Page 32 of King's Obsession

“No, he’s finished for the day,” Dougal insisted, getting up and stretching himself, looking at Asmodeus. “You’re looking tired. You need to rest.”

Baal’s jaw all but hit the floor as he looked between the two of them. His eyes were wide with shock. “Finished?” he squeaked.

“Yes, finished,” Dougal answered before Asmodeus could utter a word. “You can go tell all the others he’ll see them another day.”

Baal lifted his notepad. “Tomorrow is just as busy, but I can try to fit them in.”

Asmodeus’s lips twitched at the outrage coming from Dougal at what he felt was an injustice, at them both being trapped in this windowless room with stuffy demons who should take care of their own business. That all came across loud and clear, so he waited to see how Dougal dealt with Baal. Truth be told, Asmodeus was weary, and he could eat some of Dougal’s homemade stew, maybe take a nap curled up next to Dougal. The idea was very appealing indeed. And if Asmodeus was honest, this bossy side of his blissful one was hot as hell.

Dougal’s hands went to his hips, and he towered over Baal, rising to his full height. “No, you aren’t listening. There will be no fitting in anymore. In fact, we’ll be fitting in a lot less. The king is a very important person in this realm, I am not discounting that. But as the king, his time is precious, and your demons need to learn that for themselves. You can go back to whatever diary system you have got going and pencil in two hours’ worth of appointments every morning, Monday through Friday, ten till twelve, for all future visits.”

Baal looked like Dougal had suggested he pay a visit to hell for a vacation. His lips were moving, but nothing came out, his red skin paling as Asmodeus rose and took one of Dougal’s hands. “It seems, that’s all sorted.” He gave Baal a curt nod. “We’ll see you at ten.” Then, before the other demon could reply, they were back in the forest and Asmodeus was kissing Dougal for all he was worth.

“Who knew I liked bossy trolls?” he murmured in between kisses, his hands dragging off Dougal’s coat that weighed an absolute ton and thudded to the floor hard enough that it made the ground beneath their boots shudder.

“I’m the only bossy troll you’re getting.” Dougal’s hands worked just as fast as Asmodeus’s, who groaned at the rough feel of his hands on his skin.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted,” he moaned, his cock clasped between meaty fingers that stroked and pumped his rock-hard shaft.

“Same. Now what was that about food and a nap?” Dougal was panting.

“After… after… argh, more,” Asmodeus cried out as fingers stroked down the crease of his ass. “Need more.”

Dougal kissed his way down the side of his throat, nibbling at the junction of his neck, licking at the salty flesh. “And more you shall have, my love.”

Asmodeus wasn’t sure how they made it to the bed, or when Dougal had stretched him. All he cared about was the feeling of fullness, of connection to his blissful one as Dougal drove the head of his cock into his body. His ass clenching, he groaned and mewled in delight. “More… gods… more.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Dougal gasped, his face sweaty and flushed, his jaw tight with his restraint.

“You won’t,” he moaned, using his strength to push up and get Dougal to bottom out. They cried out together, their pleasure feeding each other until neither could tell where one began and the other ended.

Grunts, cries, and groans were drowned out by slapping bodies. The bed rocked forcefully as Asmodeus came in violent shudders, cum spurting over his chest and hitting his chin.

Heat filled his ass as Dougal’s head thrust back and he roared through his release, then collapsed on Asmodeus, still panting.

His weight pinned Asmodeus to the mattress, giving him a sense of security that he didn’t think he’d ever tire of. His belly chose then to rumble, and Dougal lifted his head off the pillow to look down between them. “Hungry.”

“Our child is,” he said without thought, only to find himself staring at Dougal’s bare ass hightailing it out of the room so fast that if he’d blinked, he’d have missed it.

His laughter rumbled out as he heard Dougal clanging about in the kitchen muttering, “Well, we can’t have that.”

Asmodeus rolled off the bed, grinning. For the first time, he could definitely see the benefits of being pregnant. Now all he needed was not to vomit again.

Chapter Nineteen

Dougal

“There’s no natural light there,” Dougal explained to the younger plants all clamoring for his attention. “That would make things very difficult for you.”

It was early morning, and Dougal had slipped out as soon as the sun’s rays started peeking over the horizon, determined to soak up some sunlight before another grueling two hours at the demon realm. Baal, perhaps emboldened by Dougal’s insistence on protecting Asmodeus’s time, had suggested on the first morning of the new regime, that each visitor had a time limit. He explained it would make it easier for Baal to schedule the limited time, but Dougal noticed how much more confident the PA got every time he interrupted a meeting, letting Dougal know that the next appointment was waiting. There was a definite swish in that saunter when Baal followed the disgruntled demon out of the office, giving them a few moments before the next one came in.

Honestly, it was a good idea. Dougal sighed as he petted the surrounding leaves, sending out his soothing energies. It seemed the higher ranked a demon was, the more they thought every element of their life history was important when it came to asking what they wanted. In a lot of cases, the demons didn’t even want anything specific. Dougal was fast coming to the conclusion that a lot of them visited just so they could drop it into conversations later about their meeting with the king and his troll.

But the white walls and the ornate chairs, which were hellishly uncomfortable, were grinding Dougal’s gears. He couldn’t imagine how Baal could handle working there, and while Asmodeus just said, “It’s just always been like this,” when Dougal had asked about it, he didn’t think that meant things couldn’t change.

He tapped the pile of pots he’d brought out with him. “At the moment, your roots have free rein to travel as far as they can grow. If you come with me and do this, then you’re going to have to be cooped up in a pot for weeks.”

He listened, head tilted as the leaves, grasses, and bushes chatted among themselves. The general consensus was that Asmodeus would put in a window if asked, and most of the plants were keen to volunteer for a short trip, provided it wasn’t for very long.

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