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

Chapter 708: "Daemon," she whimpered, her head lolling back against the wall.

"If I can make you come with just my mouth on your breasts, I bet I could give you multiple with just this one finger."

He thrust it in deeper, exploring. She moaned, parting her legs further for him.

He felt grateful just being inside her like this. After the way her body had rejected him outright during her heat-and now, with her recent struggles with their intimacy-being inside her in any way at all was a damn luxury. One he would never take lightly. "Daemon, I feel… I feel…" She buried her face against his chest.

"Really hungry. I want you to mount me. It's all I th-think about."

"Yeah?"

"Oh yes," she gasped.

"I hope we can do it today."

"I hope so too, dearling. I hope so."

Caressing her gland, he kept his touches gentle, tending to her pleasure instead of his usual aggressive, you-must-take-it bombardment.

He coaxed her chin up with his knuckles.

"Do you like when I touch you inside?"

"Y-yes," she panted.

"Then I suppose I shall have to do more of it," he drawled.

"Look at me."

He kept coaxing and caressing, tracing and rubbing her sensitive, rippling walls. He worked her so damn good she was dripping like a faucet, making a mess on the floor.

All the while, his eyes devoured her, drinking in her every reaction-the way her breathing stuttered to a halt before picking up again, the way she huffed out air through parted lips.

Read more at gⱯ????????????ν????????????⩼ⓒo????

Her eyes held his, just as he commanded-yet they were glazed over.

When she was about to come, he withdrew his fingers and lifted her. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he balanced her against him with one arm, his other hand freeing his erection.

Bracing her against the wall, he guided himself to her entrance, sliding into her in a single, smooth thrust.

She went completely still.

As still as the dead.

Every tremor, every soft moan and breathless quiver… vanished in an instant. Her eyes stayed fixed somewhere over his shoulder, wide and empty, as she retreated into her head.

Daemonikai deflated.

"Emeriel…?"

"I can't. I can't…"

There was no trace of the hunger that had colored her voice moments before-only pure fear.

His desire vanished like a candle snuffed by the wind.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered hoarsely.

Protect.

He withdrew from her slowly, feeling her tightness resist him until his length slipped free. Then he held her close, shielding her from the threat.

But it was him. He was the danger.

The rigidity left her body at once. Then came the shaking.

She buried her face against his neck, tremors overtaking her, breath coming in shudders. Tears soaked his skin.

.

.

.