Chapter 117: Jasmine and lena
The heavy teak door clicked shut behind Dr. Singh, leaving the air in Jasmine’s room thick with the remnants of vulnerability and the heady perfume of frangipani drifting through the open balcony doors. Jasmine sat curled on the edge of her bed, the stark white bandage on her wrist a glaring reminder against the soft, earthy tones of the bedding. Lena perched on a cushioned stool nearby, her posture relaxed but her dark eyes watchful, absorbing every micro-expression that flickered across Jasmine’s face.
Silence stretched, not uncomfortable, but charged with the unspoken weight of the session. Dr. Singh had pushed hard, excavating the rot beneath Jasmine’s recent breakdown – the gnawing jealousy, the feeling of being merely Bruce’s wild distraction while Lena was his anchor, the crushing fear of displacement when Sophia’s vibrant curves joined the family. Lena had listened, truly listened, without judgment, sharing her own moments of insecurity, her fierce protectiveness over all of them, Jasmine included. The dynamic wasn't Lena vs Jasmine; it was them against the poison whispering in Jasmine’s mind.
Jasmine traced the edge of her bandage with a fingertip. The tropical air felt suddenly too warm. She lifted her gaze, those striking green eyes finding Lena’s. A tremor, subtle but there, ran through her. "Last night," she started, her voice husky, catching slightly. She swallowed. "I felt alive. For the first time in… weeks."
Lena tilted her head, a small, encouraging smile playing on her lips. "Yeah? Bruce said you connected."
A deeper flush crept up Jasmine’s neck. "I… sucked him off." The words hung in the air, raw and intimate. Lena’s expression didn’t change, just softened further, waiting. Jasmine took a breath, pushing through the residue of shame Dr. Singh was helping her dismantle. "It tasted… like you."
Lena stilled. Utterly. Her dark eyes locked onto Jasmine’s. The playful warmth vanished, replaced by a sudden, intense focus. "Yeah?" The single word was low, almost a growl.
Jasmine nodded, the movement jerky. "Yeah. That… salt, and musk… the taste of you on him. Before… before I let the poison seep into me, before I convinced myself I was just the dirty little secret…" Her voice cracked. "I missed that taste, Lena. I missed you. The way we used to laugh, the way we’d share Bruce, the way you’d watch me take Malik… fuck, the way you’d taste with me." A tear escaped, tracing a hot path down her cheek. "I love you, Lena. Not just because you’re family. I love you."
Lena was off the stool in a heartbeat. She didn’t walk; she moved like a panther, crossing the small space between them in two silent strides. She didn’t hesitate. Her hands, strong and warm, framed Jasmine’s face, thumbs brushing away the tear. Her gaze, dark as molten obsidian, bored into Jasmine’s, searching, confirming the raw truth laid bare.
"Mi hermana," Lena breathed, the Spanish endearment rough with emotion. "Mi salvaje hermana." She leaned in, her forehead pressing against Jasmine’s. "I love you too. More than you fucking know."
The connection ignited like dry kindling. The shared confession, the raw vulnerability, the memory of shared pleasures and the taste of Bruce on both their tongues – it coalesced into a sudden, electric pull. Lena’s lips met Jasmine’s. Not tentative, not questioning. Deep, claiming, hungry.
Jasmine responded instantly, a desperate whimper escaping her as she kissed back with equal fervor. Her hands flew up, tangling in Lena’s thick, dark hair, pulling her closer. Lips parted, tongues clashed – a fierce exploration, tasting, reclaiming. Jasmine tasted the remnants of coffee, the faint sweetness of jasmine tea, and underneath it, the undeniable, primal musk that was uniquely Lena. It was different from Bruce’s taste, yet intimately familiar, a flavour that spoke of tangled sheets and shared secrets.
Lena’s hands slid down from Jasmine’s face, over the thin silk of her pajama top, fingertips brushing the sides of her breasts. Jasmine arched into the touch, a moan vibrating against Lena’s mouth. Lena broke the kiss, breathing raggedly, her eyes blazing. "I need to taste you," she rasped, her voice thick with desire. "Need to taste my sister. Need to know you're back."
Jasmine didn’t speak. Her answer was in the frantic way she pushed the thin straps of her pajama top off her shoulders, letting the silk pool around her waist. Her small, perfect breasts, tipped with dark, taut nipples, were bared to the humid air. Lena’s gaze was a physical caress, hot and appreciative. "Dios, you are fucking beautiful," she murmured, her hands already moving to the drawstring of Jasmine’s pajama bottoms.
Jasmine lifted her hips, helping Lena shove the soft fabric down her legs, kicking them off. She lay back on the bed, gloriously naked except for the stark white bandage, her smooth, dark skin glowing in the soft light. Lena stood for a moment, drinking her in – the long, powerful legs, the flat plane of her stomach, the incredible swell of her hips, and the ass Bruce had crowned, the ass that truly was a masterpiece, full and high and begging to be worshipped.
"Roll over," Lena commanded, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Show me that world-class ass."
A shiver of pure anticipation ran through Jasmine. She obeyed, rolling onto her stomach, then pushing herself up onto her knees, presenting herself. She arched her back, pushing her incredible ass high into the air, the rounded globes perfectly framed. The view was breathtaking – the deep cleft, the smooth skin, the glistening hint of her dark, swollen folds peeking from below. She looked back over her shoulder, her green eyes smoldering. "Yours, Lena," she breathed. "Taste me. Make me yours again."
Lena didn't need further invitation. She climbed onto the bed behind Jasmine, her own tank top and shorts discarded somewhere on the floor in a blur of motion. Her naked body pressed against Jasmine’s upturned ass, the heat radiating between them. Lena’s hands settled on Jasmine’s hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh, possessive and strong. She lowered her head, not to Jasmine’s pussy, but to the incredible curve of her ass. Her tongue, hot and wet, laved a long, slow stripe from the crease of Jasmine’s thigh up the full, glorious swell.
"Fuuuuck," Jasmine hissed, dropping her head between her shoulders, pushing her ass back harder against Lena’s face. "Yes! Like that!"
Lena worshipped her. She kissed, licked, and nipped gently at the smooth skin, her hands spreading Jasmine’s cheeks apart, exposing her completely. The humid air and Jasmine’s own arousal made her glistening pussy lips shine, her tight little asshole clenched and fluttering. Lena groaned, the sound vibrating against Jasmine’s skin. She shifted lower, her tongue finding Jasmine’s dripping slit. Not teasing. Straight to the source.
She buried her face between Jasmine’s cheeks, her tongue spearing deep into Jasmine’s soaking wet pussy. Hard. Deep. Ravenous.
"OH GOD! LENA!" Jasmine screamed, her back arching impossibly. Lena’s tongue was a piston, fucking her with deep, demanding strokes, curling against her inner walls. Lena’s hands held her spread wide, thumbs pressing firmly beside Jasmine’s clit, keeping her open for the invasion. The sound was obscene – wet, slurping, sucking noises filled the room, mingling with Jasmine’s high, keening cries. Lena ate her like she was starving, like this was her first meal after a famine, her tongue lapping up Jasmine’s juices, probing her depths, then swirling around her clit with expert pressure.
"Taste so fucking good, hermana," Lena moaned against her, her voice muffled by Jasmine’s flesh. "Taste like mine. Like us. Fuck, you’re drenching me." She sucked Jasmine’s clit hard into her mouth, flicking her tongue rapidly over the swollen bud.
Jasmine was dissolving. The weeks of pain, the therapy session stripping her bare, the declaration of love – it all coalesced into pure, white-hot sensation focused entirely on Lena’s mouth. Her hips bucked wildly, fucking herself back onto Lena’s relentless tongue. "Don't stop! Don't you fucking stop! Make me come! Please, Lena, PLEASE! I need it! Need you to make me scream!"
Lena responded by sliding two fingers deep inside Jasmine’s clenching channel, curling them upwards as her mouth descended back onto Jasmine’s clit. She sucked hard, her fingers pumping in a fierce, rhythmic cadence.
The orgasm hit Jasmine like a physical blow. It tore through her, wringing a guttural, ragged scream from her throat that echoed out onto the balcony. Her entire body convulsed, her pussy clamping down viscously on Lena’s fingers, her ass trembling violently. Jets of wetness flooded Lena’s hand and mouth as Jasmine shook apart, her cries dissolving into breathless sobs.
Lena didn’t relent. She kept sucking, kept pumping her fingers, drawing out the convulsions until Jasmine was a trembling, gasping wreck, collapsed forward onto the bed, her cheek pressed to the sheets.
Only then did Lena slowly withdraw. She crawled up Jasmine’s body, her own skin sheened with sweat, her breathing harsh. She kissed her way up Jasmine’s spine, tasting salt and Jasmine’s essence on her lips. She reached Jasmine’s shoulder and gently turned her over.
Jasmine’s eyes were glazed, her face flushed, tears of overwhelmed pleasure streaking her temples. She looked utterly wrecked, but the shadows in her green eyes had been chased away, replaced by a sated, vulnerable glow. Lena cupped her face, kissing her deeply, letting Jasmine taste herself on Lena’s tongue.
"I’m here, Jazz," Lena murmured against her lips. "All yours. We’re all here."
Jasmine clung to her, burying her face in Lena’s neck. "Don’t let go," she whispered, her voice trembling.
Lena wrapped her arms tightly around her, holding her close, her own heart pounding against Jasmine’s chest. "Never, baby. Never again." She stroked Jasmine’s sweat-dampened hair, the scent of sex and frangipani thick around them.
Outside the door, unseen, Dr. Singh stood in the shadowed hallway, a small, thoughtful smile touching her lips. She had paused on her way out, hearing the shift in energy. She didn't need to see to understand. The raw, ecstatic cry, the deep silence punctuated by shaky breaths and murmured words – it spoke volumes more than any session. Healing, she knew, took many forms. Neural pathways could be forged in fire as well as therapy. She turned silently and walked away, leaving the door to Jasmine's sanctuary slightly ajar, the sounds of fragile reconnection drifting softly into the Balinese night. Camille’s approaching footsteps, light on the teak floor, were the only other sound.
Camille’s footsteps paused just outside the slightly ajar door. The thick Balinese night air carried sounds she knew intimately: Lena’s low, possessive murmurs, Jasmine’s shaky breaths, the slick slide of skin on skin. The scent hit her next – frangipani mingled with the unmistakable, musky tang of sex and female arousal. Her own breath caught sharply in her throat.
She pushed the door open wider, the soft light spilling into the hallway framing the scene inside. Jasmine lay sprawled on her back, Lena draped over her, one thigh hooked possessively between Jasmine’s legs. Lena’s dark head was buried against Jasmine’s neck, her hand still possessively cupping Jasmine’s breast, thumb brushing a dark, stiff nipple. Jasmine’s eyes, wide and glazed, met Camille’s. A flush deepened across her cheeks, but she didn’t pull away from Lena’s embrace.
"Camille," Jasmine breathed, her voice thick, raw.
Lena lifted her head slowly, turning towards the door. Her obsidian eyes held no surprise, only a fierce, sated possessiveness. Sweat gleamed on her brow, her lips swollen. She didn’t move her hand from Jasmine’s breast. "She needed us," Lena stated, her voice rough-edged. "Needed me."
Camille stepped fully into the room, the door clicking softly shut behind her. The humid air felt charged, thick with the aftermath of Lena’s claiming. Jasmine’s dark skin shone, her incredible body still trembling faintly, the white bandage stark against her wrist. Lena’s powerful legs bracketed Jasmine’s hips, her own nakedness a testament to the raw intimacy that had just transpired. The smell of Jasmine’s release was potent, primal.
"She told me," Lena continued, her gaze locked on Camille’s. "Said she sucked Bruce off last night. Said he tasted like me." A slow, predatory smile touched Lena’s lips. "Said she missed my taste."
Camille moved closer, her own pulse hammering against her ribs. She saw the truth of it in Jasmine’s vulnerable, open expression, in the way her body still yielded to Lena’s weight. The poison Dr. Singh excavated was being flushed out, replaced by this visceral reconnection. Camille reached the edge of the bed. Her fingers traced the damp curve of Lena’s shoulder, then slid down to brush Jasmine’s flushed cheek. Jasmine turned her face into Camille’s touch, nuzzling her palm.
"She needed reminding she belongs," Camille murmured, her voice low. "That she’s ours. Always."
Lena’s smile widened, feral and approving. She shifted her weight, rolling partially off Jasmine, creating space. Her hand slid down Jasmine’s sweat-slicked stomach, fingers tracing the defined muscles before dipping lower, through the dark curls. Jasmine gasped, arching her hips off the bed. "She needed this," Lena growled, her fingers finding Jasmine’s swollen, glistening folds. "Needed to feel owned. Needed to fucking scream."
Camille watched Lena’s fingers move with practiced, intimate knowledge, spreading Jasmine’s slick lips, circling her clit. Jasmine’s breath hitched, her green eyes fluttering shut, then snapping open to find Camille’s. "Cam… please…" she whimpered, her hips lifting, seeking Lena’s touch.
"Look at her," Lena commanded Camille, her fingers pressing harder, rubbing tight circles. Jasmine cried out, her back bowing. "Look at our wild girl coming undone again. Because of me."
Camille couldn’t look away. The sight was hypnotic: Jasmine’s powerful body writhing under Lena’s relentless fingers, Lena’s fierce pride, the raw vulnerability warring with desperate need in Jasmine’s eyes. Camille felt the heat pool low in her own belly, a familiar ache tightening. She leaned down, her lips finding Jasmine’s parted ones in a deep, claiming kiss. Jasmine moaned into her mouth, the sound vibrating against Camille’s tongue, tasting of salt and arousal and Lena.
Camille broke the kiss, her own breathing ragged. She trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down Jasmine’s neck, over her collarbone, lower. Her tongue flicked one dark nipple, then the other, drawing sharp gasps. She moved lower still, following the path Lena’s hand was blazing, replacing Lena’s fingers with her mouth.
Lena withdrew her hand, watching intently as Camille buried her face between Jasmine’s thighs. Camille’s tongue was broad, demanding, licking deep into Jasmine’s soaked cunt, lapping up the combined taste of Jasmine’s essence and Lena’s earlier possession. Jasmine’s cries escalated, sharp and ragged. "Fuck! Camille! YES! Eat me! Eat my fucking pussy!"
Camille groaned against her, the vibrations making Jasmine buck wildly. She sucked Jasmine’s clit hard into her mouth, flicking her tongue rapidly, her hands gripping Jasmine’s hips, pinning her down as she thrashed. Lena leaned over, her own mouth finding Camille’s shoulder, biting down possessively, her hand sliding down Camille’s back to cup her ass.
"Make her come again," Lena hissed against Camille’s skin, her fingers digging into Camille’s flesh. "Harder. Make her fucking forget everything but your mouth."
Camille obeyed. She drove her tongue deeper, fucking Jasmine with it, then sealed her lips around Jasmine’s clit and sucked with fierce, rhythmic pulls. Jasmine’s scream tore through the room, raw and primal. Her body locked rigid, pussy clamping down on Camille’s tongue in violent pulses, drenching her chin. Wave after wave crashed through her, leaving her shuddering, gasping, tears streaming down her temples.
Camille lifted her head, her face glistening, breathing hard. She looked up at Jasmine’s wrecked expression, then at Lena’s fiercely satisfied one. Lena’s hand slid around from Camille’s ass, fingers slick with Camille’s own arousal. She pressed two fingers against Camille’s dripping entrance. "Your turn, mi reina," Lena murmured, her eyes dark with promise. "Show her how wet you got watching me own her."
Camille moaned, pushing back against Lena’s probing fingers. Lena didn’t hesitate. She drove her fingers deep into Camille’s cunt, curling them upwards, finding that sweet spot instantly. Camille cried out, her head falling back, her body bowing as Lena fucked her hard and fast with her hand. Jasmine, still trembling, pushed herself up on shaky arms, her eyes fixed on Lena’s fingers plunging into Camille. She leaned in, her tongue tracing Camille’s jawline before capturing her mouth in a deep, messy kiss, tasting herself on Camille’s lips.
Lena watched them kiss, her fingers pistoning relentlessly inside Camille, her thumb finding Camille’s clit, rubbing hard circles. "That’s it," Lena growled, her own hips grinding against Camille’s ass. "Fuck her mouth, Jazz. Taste how fucking wet she is for us. For this."
The dual assault was overwhelming – Jasmine’s hungry tongue exploring her mouth, Lena’s fingers fucking her deep and rough, her thumb grinding her clit. Camille’s orgasm detonated, a silent scream locked in Jasmine’s kiss as her cunt convulsed violently around Lena’s fingers, soaking her hand. She shuddered, collapsing forward slightly, breaking the kiss, gasping for air.
Lena slowly withdrew her fingers, bringing them glistening to her own mouth. She sucked them clean, her eyes never leaving Camille’s flushed face. "Tastes like victory," she purred.
The three women lay tangled on the sweat-damp sheets, breathing heavily in the fragrant, sex-scented air. Jasmine nestled her head against Camille’s shoulder, Lena pressed along Camille’s back, her arm draped possessively over both of them. Jasmine traced the edge of her bandage again, but the gesture seemed thoughtful now, not haunted. "He’ll smell it on us," she murmured, a hint of her old defiance creeping back into her voice. "Bruce. He’ll know."
Lena chuckled, low and rich, her fingers tracing idle patterns on Camille’s hip. "Good," she said, her voice thick with satisfaction. "Let him fucking know." Her hand slid lower, fingertips brushing the wetness still glistening between Camille’s thighs. "Let him smell all of us." Camille shivered, pressing back into Lena’s touch, the promise hanging heavy in the humid air as distant thunder rumbled over the ocean, heralding the approaching storm. Bruce’s heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway, growing louder, faster, drawn inevitably towards the potent scent of his reclaimed wives.