Chapter Seventeen
Jasmine
“Jasmine,” Donovan murmured, his voice deep and gruff.
Dragging my eyes open, I looked up at him. He was above me, one hand fisting his c**k and the other curled over the side of my hip.
My body was still quaking from the intense o****m that had just crashed over me. But I already needed more. I needed the feel of him filling me.
“Donovan, please.”
I heard the pleading in my voice. But I was beyond caring, beyond shame. I was caught in this web of madness. All I knew was what my body needed. His body was a work of art—all hard planes with a few scars scattered over him. There was no polish to Donovan—he was all raw, rugged man, a pure masculinity so intense he encompassed me with his mere existence.
My hips arched toward him, and he finally sank inside of m
