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

Chapter 802 Chapter 802: "I am your soul bond, Daemon. Three years ago, my blood saved your life. With or without dark magic, that truth remains. My blood still means something, because I am yours. With or without our bond, that doesn't change." In the past, he would have refused outright, without hesitation. He hadn't forgotten the healers' warnings-that drawing blood from her in the later stages could cause her discomfort. But what he had forgotten was the rest of their advice: if she was comfortable with it, if she chose it, then not only was it safe-it was vital.

"I've been eating a lot of greens," she said with a slight smile. "And the herbal tonics the healers prepared to strengthen my blood. I can handle this." And gods help him, he wanted to do it. He craved her blood with a hunger that ached in his fangs. He missed it. Missed it-the rich, potent taste sliding down his throat instead of the teasing sips he'd allowed himself in recent months. His throat worked around a rough word. "Alright." S~ᴇaʀᴄh the Findnøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. She blinked, visibly surprised.

But she recovered quickly. "Alright. How?" How do you want me? On my back, on my knees, bent over the edge of the bed, standing against the wall-gods, Emeriel. I'll take you however you let me. Fuck, it was his cock doing the thinking now instead of his fangs. Lately, he had tried not to stare when she passed by; tried not to watch the sway of her hips, the movement of her breasts beneath her loose dresses, the bounce of her ass. He'd look away when she smiled so brightly. Look away when she blushed or turned shy. He tried not to notice too much when she wore sleepwear-or anything, really.

Suffice it to say, everything about her turned him on. Daemonikai was in a constant state of arousal. Get the latest gαℓησνℓs․com The constant pressure around her was more torturous than being hung upside down and branded with hot iron. He wanted to throw her legs over his shoulders and pound her into the mattress. You can't do that to her in this condition, his rational mind reminded him. Damn it. Fuck. That was true. But hell, he still wanted her. Daemonikai had once scoffed at drunken lords who joked about needing sex so badly they'd beg just for the tip. He'd thought them pathetic fools.

But now, he completely understood. At this rate, even if he could only slide the head of his cock inside her, he'd thank the gods and die a happy man. Because he could make it work. The way he wanted her-he could find release in simply having even the smallest part of himself buried inside her. . . .