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

Chapter 308: Gods, I need him so much.

Aekeira parted her legs, letting her hand wander down her body for the first time. Maidens had whispered of such acts, but never had she felt the need to explore herself. Until now.

Her fingers found her sensitive clitoris, tender and swollen with need. Aekeira imagined they were his fingers steering the pleasure rolling off her in heated waves.

"Lights…" she cried, closing her eyes. Shame mingled with arousal as she adjusted, burying her face into her pillow, biting into the fabric to muffle her moans. Her fingers worked faster, flicking, rubbing, pressing her engorged, slippery nub. Each touch fueled by the vivid memory of his kisses. His taste.

The way he had pressed her against that ancient tree in the woods… His teeth sinking into her neck as he brought her to a climax…

A whine slipped from Aekeira as she came, shuddering under the strong waves of release. Her legs clamped together, pressing tightly against her exploring hand as she convulsed.

"Vladya…" she whispered, the name rolling off her tongue like a prayer as pleasure danced over her. Only when her clit became too sensitive did her fingers still. The tide of ecstasy slowly receded, leaving Aekeira breathless. Spent.

Awareness gradually seeped back into her consciousness, her eyes fluttering open to the sheets she was biting down on. She was alone, yet it didn't stop the surge of embarrassment.

You touched yourself.

You did so, imagining him.

Do you want him that much?

gαℓησν????????s․com is full of thrilling adventures

Shame flushed her cheeks, her breathing slowing as her mind raced. I touched myself thinking about him.

The reality of her actions, of her desire for Grand Lord Vladya, settled like a stone in her chest. When it came to him, she behaved like a wanton. Like the slut he accused her of being.

Prostitutes at brothels probably have more control than I do.

Aekeira closed her eyes, but sleep did not come for a long, long time.

EMERIEL

By the night of the third day, Emeriel was sated.

Sated and happy.

Sated, happy, and worried.

Was there such a thing as too much sexual intimacy?

If so, Emeriel felt they might have set a new record. Was every full heat like this, or was it unique to the first one?

The days had blurred into a continuous fog of pleasure. More pleasure, resting, sips of water, more coupling, sleeping, tender hand-feeding, hurried clean-ups, more heat, and even more sex. Not necessarily in that order.

Emeriel's feelings had fluctuated between utterly sated, ravenously hungry, exhausted, aroused, basking in the afterglow, thirsty, completely passed out, sleeping, and then, more arousal.

She was often only dimly aware when King Daemonikai tenderly cleaned her up, always drifting into sleep when the maids quickly tidied the cottage and replaced the soiled linens. Throughout it all, the grand king was steadfast by her side, always ready to quench the fires of heat whenever she awoke, needing him. Mounting her thoroughly, leaving her begging for more… or mercy.

.

.

.