That Prince Is A Girl: The Vicious King’s Slave Mate Novel

Chapter 223: A guttural moan escaped his lips as he pulled her flush against him, his fingers digging into her waist.

He nuzzled into her neck, his lips all over her delicate skin, as his senses were overwhelmed by her sheer scent.

EMERIEL

Emeriel was on fire. Every nerve ending alight with burning desire. Having him so close…

A breathy moan escaped her as he licked her neck twice. His warm tongue sent ecstasy through her. His arms tightened around her waist, pulling her closer as though he wanted to embed her into his skin.

She clung to him, her fingers digging into the strong muscles of his back, nearly shaking out of her skin to be this close to her Beloved.

"Your musk," King Daemonikai growled, a deep rumble that she felt as they were plastered together. "Holy Ukrae." He knew. He could smell her arousal. Shame washed over her, yet she couldn't control the unbridled passion coursing through her veins. She mewled, hiding her face in his chest.

Emeriel wanted to stop, to pull away, but her body refused to obey. Helpless, trembling with need, she pressed her aching core against his firm thigh, grinding against him desperately.

Her arms tightened around him, her entire being longing to merge with his. To disappear into him. His broad shoulders shielded her from reality, the outside world…

Fading into insignificance, nothing mattered but her overpowering desire to be consumed by this male. "Touch me," she cried, her voice raw with unrestrained longing. "I need you so much, I-"

He abruptly pulled away, leaving her aching for his warmth.

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Emeriel sobbed in protest, her hands reaching blindly for him.

But his hand caught hers, stopping her. "No, Galilea. This is not only ill-advised, it's also dangerous."

She opened her eyes to find him staring down at her, a tortured expression on his face. King Daemonikai's body was rigid with restraint, his eyes burning with… something that both thrilled and frightened her.

"Your Grace," a soldier's voice called from outside the shed, shattering whatever spell had held them captive. King Daemonikai's eyes became hard.

"What is it?"

"Lord Herod requests your presence. He has finished the notes and requires your assistance with the compilation," the soldier reported. "Should I inform him that you are occupied and need more time?"

"There is no need for that." His eyes remained locked on Emeriel, his voice cold and composed.

"Thank you for walking with me, young princess. I must take my leave." Then, with a curt nod, he turned and walked away, leaving her alone in the shed.

Emeriel's legs gave way beneath her, and she collapsed to the floor. Ravenous hunger coursed through her, a relentless hurricane demanding to be fed.

Had he felt it too? In the throes of their connection, she hadn't been able to discern if he shared the same burning need.

Their bond was even stronger than she had imagined, and it terrified her.

.

.

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