Chapter 2304: Chapter 2304: You’re Much Tastier Than Hawthorn Berries
When she was in a good mood, she grabbed a hawthorn fruit and turned to him: "Open your mouth."
Sylvan Cheney frowned disdainfully.
"Come on, come on, let me feed you." Jasmine Yale shook the fruit in her hand, looking especially cheerful.
Sylvan Cheney lowered his head and bit her finger, along with the hawthorn fruit.
"Hey, biting again. Are you a puppy?" Jasmine hummed.
The hawthorn fruit was sweet and sour, probably because of the added honey, and the sweetness outweighed the sourness.
Sylvan Cheney never liked sour things, though now he seemed to enjoy this hawthorn fruit.
After eating, he clasped Jasmine Yale’s waist, pulling her close to him.
Lowering his head, he captured her rosy lips and kissed her.
Jasmine Yale was a bit stunned.
Then she closed her eyes.
Sylvan Cheney’s kissing skills had improved a lot since the previous times, no longer a chaotic nibble, blending dominance with gentleness.
Exploring, tangling, deep-kissing.
On him was the most familiar feeling she had known since childhood.
When emotions ran high, he fastened her little head and wouldn’t stop kissing.
The sound of kissing reached the ear, somewhat embarrassing.
"Mm..." Jasmine furrowed her brows, hanging her arms around his neck, forced to tilt her head up.
The deeper the kiss, the stronger the emotion.
Two blazing fires collided, rubbed against each other, and burned.
Jasmine Yale’s face was bright red, at first cooperating with him, but eventually, she couldn’t take charge, so she simply let him kiss her, softening into a puddle, nestled in Sylvan Cheney’s embrace.
Sylvan Cheney probably hadn’t felt desire for a long time, that dormant fire within him suddenly exploded.
Fierce flames rapidly spread.
Jasmine Yale was out of breath, panting heavily.
Her small hand scratched Sylvan Cheney’s neck.
Sylvan Cheney furrowed his brow, finally retreating and releasing her.
Jasmine Yale’s face was already like a blooming peach, her eyes watery, with a hint of blurry mist.
Sylvan Cheney stared at her, his gaze never leaving.
When kissing her, there was always a feeling of overlapping with dreams, perhaps because he had kissed her too many times in dreams.
He often dreamed of her, probably deeply ingrained.
He didn’t know he was so easily moved, having known her only a few months, yet never wanting to be apart from her.
Before meeting her, he always thought of himself as rational.
Looking back now, all that rational talk was so vain.
Sylvan Cheney stretched out his index finger, gently tapped her swollen lips, squinted like a sly wolf: "How’s the taste of the hawthorn fruit?"
"You’re teasing me."
"If I don’t tease you, who will? Sweetie is meant to be teased."
"I’ve never seen someone so naturally familiar like you; who’s your sweetie."
"Besides you, there’s no one else." Sylvan Cheney bowed his head and kissed her lips again, "You’re so much tastier than hawthorn fruit."
Such ambiguous words made Jasmine Yale unable to resist, she bit him.
It landed right on his shoulder.
However, her strength was small, even biting didn’t affect Sylvan Cheney much.
Sylvan Cheney quickly settled her in his embrace, rubbing her head, brows and eyes filled with indulgent and gentle smiles: "Little thing."
Jasmine Yale leaned against his shoulder, held tightly in his arms.
Sylvan Cheney tightened his hold on her waist, one hand caressing her rounded belly.
The TV was still on.
But they could no longer hear the sound from the TV; in their ears, there was only the sound of each other’s speech and breathing.
When love is enthralled to the extreme, it remains a long, unbroken intoxication.
