Page 88 of The Slave in A Princess Disguise

"Move." His voice strained, the wild look in his eyes made her hot. How much could she test his control? Did she even want to? Emeriel wasn't entirely sure.

"I ca-can't," she managed to gasp out. She felt utterly full. Stuffed to the brim. The intense pleasure hummed just beneath her skin like a charge.

King Daemonikai's hands gripped her hips, holding her firmly in place as he took control, moving beneath her. His strokes long and slow.

Each thrust made her gasp. With every glide into her descended womb, the sensations that flooded her were beyond words. Emeriel wasn't sure she could describe them as pleasure. They were more than pleasure, yet not pain. Simply…more.

A part of her—a distant part of her—was embarrassed at her loud, uninhibited cries. Like that of a seasoned whore. But Emeriel couldn't help it, the pleasure was too strong.

"You enjoy getting stuffed with my dick?" he groaned, punctuating each word with a firm thrust.

"Yesssss," she hissed, sweat beading and rolling off her skin.

He changed his angle abruptly, pressing against a particularly sensitive spot inside her, and Emeriel arched, nearly catapulting out of her own skin.

His manhood in her womb stroked her so good, touching glands Emeriel never knew existed. She chased that sensation, grinding against him so his hardness hit her sweet spot so well.

Her moans filled the air as the tingling of an impending orgasm grew more profound with each passing moment. "I'm going to..."

King Daemonikai stopped.

Emeriel nearly sobbed with frustration. Without a word, he rose, keeping her close. Their bodies remained joined, Emeriel clinging to him like a tenacious spider. Each step sent a jolt through her core as he crossed the room.

Reaching the sturdy chair, the grand king sat down, pulling her down onto his lap and leaned in closer. "Start moving."

All Emeriel's instincts said obey. And she did, her hips already moving. Rising and falling, her hands clung to his broad shoulders for balance, biting her lip at the exquisite feel.

His fingers wove through her hair, capturing a handful in a firm, yet gentle hold.

"So sexy. So hot," his tone caressed her skin as much as his touch.

A bashful heat bloomed across her cheeks, and Emeriel ducked her head to hide her flush, burying her face in the harrow of his neck. Moving rhythmically, she savored every contact… every slide.

"You feel really good," she confessed shyly into his neck, the warmth of his skin against her lips making her heart race. Her heat thrummed in her, but without its brutal waves Emeriel felt as if she were soaring through the heavens.

The room filled with her moans mixing with his occasional low groans. Her orgasm built again, imminent and inevitable, her belly tightening as her cries grew louder.

A thick finger suddenly prodded her back entrance, pushing in. Emeriel whined, shock and stark pleasure swarming her.

"You're drenched," his voice was gravel with raw lust. "Tight, yet loose with heat."

Withdrawing his finger, Emeriel heard the soft command. "Open."

She lifted her head, her face even more aflame to see the glistening finger he held to her lips. Surely, he didn't mean...

But he did. The king's green eyes masked with desire held silent purpose. Emeriel didn't think she could blush harder than she already was, but her face and neck grew even hotter. Heart racing, her lips parted to accept the finger.

Surprisingly, sweet, clear liquid burst across her tastebuds. Moaning loudly, she licked his finger eagerly, chasing more of that flavor.

King Daemonikai pulled his finger out, moving it behind her again.

"Ohh," she wheezed as two fingers plunged into her. Repeatedly, they matched the rhythm of his powerful thrusts into her virginal canal.

Words failed her. If Emeriel had felt full before, she couldn't even begin to describe what she felt now.

Tremors rocked her sweaty body. Her muscles clamped down, locking tight for a few seconds before she shattered into a million pieces.

Emeriel was screaming andscreaming, the release shaking her very soul. Rocking her entire being. Capturing her heart and soul in its grip.

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