Page 67 of Chained to the Devil's Daughter

“S-so full,” I whimpered.

“You’re doing so well, my love. My mate. I’m going to start fucking you now.”

That was all the warning I received before his tail fucked further into my channel, carving its way inside my body as his cock moved in tandem. I was so full. I had no choice but to take every inch he gave.

With a predatory growl, Ash’ren flipped us around and plastered me between his hard body and the lip of the spring, jostling the appendages buried in my holes. I cushioned my face from the dirt with one hand and let the ground hold me steady while Ash’ren used my body. He draped over my back, taking my free hand and interlacing our fingers so sweetly.

The spring water sloshed around us, the slightly viscous liquid adding to the obscene squelching between my legs. His cock and tail worked me from the inside out, massaging my every crevice with a brutal pace. When his hand connected with my clit, I fell apart.

“So fucking sweet, coming on my cock. I’m going to empty my sac inside this pretty cunt and fuck my knot inside using my cum. Then I’m going to carry you home and sleep buried in your cunt—inmyfucking cunt—and fill you again, until you’re properly bred. Are you ready?”

All I could do was mewl. Water splattered on my face as his hips took on a savage pace, his tail shoved deep in my ass. I was beyond movement and could do nothing but swallow his cum with my body, sagging deeper into euphoric bliss with every pulse of his cock inside me, his name a constant cry.

“Mate!” Ash’ren shouted. He roared, the terrifying sound spooking the remaining flamingos.

My mate lifted me, plastering me to his chest. His tail dropped from my used hole, and I sank onto his cum-lubed knot as he flopped backward against the ridge of the spring.

My belly grew as his knot emptied, flooding me with his love, and possibly his pups.

“Mine,” I rasped, voice raw from crying his name.

“Yours,” he panted, kissing the top of my head. “Always yours.”

Exhaustion threatened to claim me as deeply and truly as my demon just had. I barely clung to consciousness as he slathered the spot of our joining with the healing liquid, then ever-so-gently pushed some into my abused asshole with a careful finger.

Abandoning the fresh clothes and our picnic supplies, he gathered me into his arms and launched into the starry night sky that had always kept our secrets.

37

Searra

Ash’ren and I went a little too hard last night. Between receiving his mate mark and riding him two or three times afterwe went to bed, my mind was addled by a lack of sleep in the morning.

Donning a composed, queenly facade to visit the labor rings was difficult, but it must be done. Every laborer and their family had been warned of the plan, but I feared nothing would compare to hearing it from their queen. So, we visited as many hubs as possible, assuring children and urging parents to hide the moment they heard the alarm within the next two days. Warning without instilling too much fear was honestly an impossible balance, but we did our best.

“Keeper, it’s good to see you on your feet,” I exclaimed as the tattooed old man approached us, leaning heavily on his staff.

“Hello, Your Highness.” The fragile prophet smiled in that knowing way. Something distracted him, and he nodded at someone to my left. I followed his gaze to Markel playing in the distance, his smile broad despite the worry loitering around the adults. I waved before turning back to Keeper, noticing then the lithe demon hovering at his elbow.

Wait, I recognized this demon! Something clicked in my sleepy mind, and I snapped my fingers at the brothel worker I’d last seen on a cot, full of grace even while pissed off and in pain. “You!”

“Me,” the demon drawled. He dropped into an elegant curtsy. “Your Bone-Blessed Majesty.”

“Tayman. I’m so glad to see you well.” An epiphany provided a burst of energy. I snapped my fingers and marched forward. “Tayman, I have a position I think you’d be perfect for.”

“Whoa, Your Highness. You’ll have to speak to my higher-ups to commission my services,” Tayman teased. Recalling the choice words he’d had for his powers-that-be, I figured it wasn’t totally a joke.

Behind me, Ash’ren growled. I waved my hand behind my back to call him off. “Ha, ha! No, Tayman, my pleasure is fully taken care of, thank you!” The brothel worker’s brow rose in the kind of way that made me want to lean forward and gossip more, but I shook the silliness from my sleepy brain and grasped for that flaming queenly facade. Tayman reminded me way too much of Elodie, which didn’t help my urge to dub us friends right this moment. “I mean something much, much greater.”

Tayman glanced over my shoulder. He made a trilling sound and leaned close, covering half of his mouth conspiratorially. “Your king consort doesn’t seem to think there’s a damn thing in this entire shit sandwich more important than your pleasure.”

King consort. Purely hearing Ash’ren called such so casually made my heart flip. I giggled despite myself.

I waved at Fara, who rushed to my side with parchment. “This is Fara. Come visit me. She will give you the details.”

Fara nodded, scribbling on the parchment and offering it to a very confused Tayman. I squeezed his shoulder, shocking him into silence, which I assumed was a rare achievement. I snappedmy hand back and apologized. “Whoops, ha! Anyway, good to see you both!”

Curse theno-touchie-touchie-the-princessrule. I’d be getting rid of it pretty soon. Hopefully. Assuming we weren’t all dead in three days.

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