Caro's Descent

Chapter Eighteen - Demonic Passion

After the club, we took the bus back to the barracks so we could each pack an overnight bag. Sharp called for a cab, and soon after, a van pulled up. We tried several hotels before finally finding one with a vacancy. Sharing a room wasn't ideal, but we decided it would beat no room. I shouldn't have been surprised at the size of the room. After all, it was the Honeymoon Suite. Cole, who'd contributed the most, took the king-sized bed with his girl. Sharp and his date settled on the couch by the balcony, leaving Owens and me on the floor by the bathroom. Thankfully, the room offered a soft carpet and extra blankets, providing comfort.

Jasmine Owens, the eldest daughter of a modest family from Birmingham, Alabama, had always embraced her responsibility toward her siblings. She'd always had a strong sense of duty ingrained in her, but that night, as she lay beside me, a different kind of excitement pulsed through her veins.

I turned off the lights and stripped down to my underwear. Owens looked incredible in just a T-shirt. The gentle glow from Baltimore's city lights cast a subtle silhouette over her, accentuating her curves. As I lay beside her, my heart pounded with anticipation. Who knew a person could be excited, nervous, and scared all at once? I thought.

"I wish we could have our own room," I whispered, gently caressing her shoulder.

Owens smiled affectionately as she wrapped her leg around mine. "At least we have a room," she replied, her voice softening the tension.

When she kissed me, her lips warmed against mine, and I felt a yearning I'd never known. As I slid on top of her, only my boxers separated us, heightening the sensation. Her light touch sent shivers through my body, soothing my nerves. We locked eyes, and within the playful mischief in hers, I found comfort.

Jasmine's eyes seemed to drift off to a distant place or time, and I asked, "Are we moving too fast?"

"I was just remembering, when I was a kid, my dad would sometimes let me tag along at his auto shop, always teaching me the value of hard work." A mischievous smirk crossed her face. "I wonder what he would say if he saw me now?"

A wave of guilt rushed through me, but I pushed it aside and explored her body with clumsy yet careful hands, relishing every gasp and moan. We were tangled in heavy breaths and lingering kisses, lost in the purity of the moment. Around us, Cole and Sharp continued with their encounters, the rhythmic thud of the headboard a constant reminder of their presence.

As I focused on Owens, her gentle hand took control, easing my head into position. I closed my eyes, allowing my senses to guide me. My lips traversed her soft thighs. But before my mouth reached its destination, doubt crept in.

"Oh, it smells good, doesn't it, Michael?" The haunting voice taunted me. "Go ahead, taste it. What are you afraid of, Michael?" My inner guide pushed me to act.

I shook off the devil's whispers, drawn back by Jasmine's intoxicating scent, electrified moans, and the sight of her soft, shaven skin. Guided by Owens's contented sighs, finding my rhythm didn't take long. Pride filled my heart as her soft hands crept through my hair, and her intensified panting revealed her satisfaction. I'd never realized bringing someone else such pleasure could satisfy me so intensely.

With a loud groan, Owens kicked me off and commanded me on my back. Her hands were gentle, and her hair tickled my skin as her warm, wet mouth sent waves of pleasure trickling through my body. My eyes rolled, and my legs trembled as the euphoric sensation overtook me. Just as I teetered on the edge of climax, she eased off.

With a gleam of deviltry in her eyes, Owens slid her leg over my pelvis. I could see the fierce determination in her expression, a reminder of her desire to break free from her small-town roots. As she lowered herself, I delighted in her body, devouring her beauty. The moment was intoxicating. A warmer, wetter sensation enveloped me as her hips smoothly rotated, steadily raising and lowering.