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

Chapter 261: EMERIEL

Emeriel whined, her senses overflowing, hyper-alert to the kiss. Just like the night before, King Daemonikai's kisses rocked her to her core.

She was beginning to realize that, unlike his calm demeanor, there was nothing calm about his kisses. They were stormy. Intense. Hard. Consuming.

His hand firmly around her neck, he tilted her head to the side and devoured her lips, sucking and licking with fervor. His tongue thrust deep, another moan escaping her lips. Emeriel's fingers dug into his clothes, pulling him even closer. The kiss seemed to stretch on indefinitely, as if time and reality had dissolved into nothingness. At last, he broke the kiss, his tongue tracing a path along her neck.

"Your scent is addictive," King Daemonikai said, his voice rough.

His scent captivated her as well. Though lacking their heightened senses, Emeriel associated a unique, masculine smell. It was distinctly his own, and it drove her crazy.

Strong hands explored her body, gliding slowly from her neck downward. They kissed again as his hand rested on her left breast, caressing it with a touch that was gentle yet demanding.

Her nipples were hard, hungry. A sharp hiss escaped her lips as he explored them, his fingers transitioning from a feather-light touch to a more defined pressure.

Apart from slave master Boris, no one had ever touched her breasts before. The unexpected surge of pleasure that flooded her when he touched her nipples was startling, coaxing a deep, throaty moan from her.

"Pretty, little thing," he groaned into her ear, his breath hot, sending shivers down her spine.

"Touch me, please," she whispered into his mouth, her voice trembling with need.

L????tеst chαptєrs in g????l????ovє????s.????????????

"I am, young one. But I am also attempting to apply control."

Had she spoken aloud, rather than merely in her head?

Emeriel bit her lip, her body alive and trembling with hunger. He had yet to fully touch her, yet she already felt a dampness in her undergarments.

"Please, touch me?" Rational thought abandoned her. Emeriel simply wanted everything she could receive from him. Her hands, trembling, hastily attacked the fastenings of her clothing.

"Galilea," he growled, his voice strained with restraint.

She hurriedly pushed aside her garments and chemise, revealing a pale, plump breast to the gaze of the grand king and the moonlight above. "Please, please," she could only utter, shyly.

Emerald eyes locked onto that creamy flesh, raw hunger burning in them. The king's hand reached in, withdrawing the other breast.

He merely gazed, as if capturing every curve and contour in his memory. Emeriel's head leaned back against the tree, her eyes squeezing shut as he looked.

"You are beautiful," he murmured. With a noise of surrender, his head descended, and his mouth caught one straining rosy peak.

Emeriel cried out, arching her back. Her hand tangled in his luxurious hair, marveling at its softness. King Daemonikai suckled her, driving her wild with every tug and nip.

Ohhhh… So it could be like this?

Emeriel squirmed, her soft cries rising into the night. His mouth was insistent, every tug sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core. She felt as though there was a direct link between his mouth and her womanhood, every pull tightening the knot of desire inside her.

.

.

.