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

Chapter 289: Gradually, the heat stroke waned, and the deep red marks on her skin began to diminish. Her eyelids closed, then fluttered open, revealing blue eyes that slowly regained focus.

"Your Grace," she whispered hoarsely. "You came back."

"I should have never left." He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, unable to believe the strong relief that washed over him.

"Come, let us rise from this floor together, shall we?" Tears filled her eyes, and she nodded weakly.

He rose and lifted her. She was featherlight, weighing nothing, yet felt so right in his arms. Her soft skin and delicate curves fit perfectly against him.

There was no time for a bath, as the waves would return soon-very soon-if he was not inside her, claiming her.

Laying her on the bed, he tried not to let his eyes linger on her alluring naked body. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath. Her scent was intoxicating-heady and distracting. Daemonikai was breathing too hard, struggling against the overwhelming urge to spread her legs and thrust into her until she howled his name. To hold her open and stroke against her.

"Focus. You are stronger than your rut," he reminded himself.

Daemonikai wet a washcloth, the cool water dripping onto his hand. He set to work quickly, cleaning her up, lapping the cloth gently against her skin.

"Give me your manhood, Your Grace. I beg of you. I need it," she moaned weakly, her eyes glazed with lust.

Galilea parted her legs, exposing every part of herself to him. Her core was wet and glistening, her musk even thicker, almost choking.

"Please, give it to me. I cannot handle this pain; it's too much."

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"I shall give it to you, sweetling," he whispered.

"Please," she gasped, her breath shallow. "Please, I need it inside me."

Daemonikai cursed as the breath was punched out of him, his rut intensifying tenfold. Lust surged through his veins like wildfire spreading through a dry forest. His manhood was so hard it hurt-relentlessly.

Throwing the washcloth aside, he covered her with his body, his weight pressing her into the mattress. A growl erupted from him at the feel of her body-her soft curves fitting perfectly against his. Her scent enveloped him, intoxicating him further. Ukrae. She was small, delicate-looking, yet somehow, the girl fit. Not only did she feel so good in his arms, but she fit him in all the right places-as if she was made for him.

"Yes, yes. Get inside me. Now, please. Fill me up. Give me your seed. Your knot. I want it." Her words were a delirious cry, her inhibitions forgotten in the heat of the moment.

Somehow, hearing that usually shy, hesitant voice speak those words thrilled him on a primal level. She wanted him-his body-enough to beg for it.

Kissing her cute little pointed nose, he positioned himself, his manhood brushing against her soft folds. He took hold of her leg and raised it, adjusting her just the way he desired.

"Now. I want it now," she cried, her head shaking side to side, her black hair fanning out around her like a dark, silken blanket. Her eyes were closed, her face a picture of raw hunger. "Give it to me now. I want it so much. So much."

He plunged inside her, cursing as her body welcomed him, enveloping him like a warm, eager glove.

"Yesssss," she moaned, her eyes closing in pleasure, nails digging into his skin. "Thank you so much."

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