That Prince Is A Girl The Vicious King's Captive Slave Mate novel Chapter 367

Chapter 367
“Are you okay?” Alviara whispered, with a thread of honest concern.

“Oh yes,” Emeriel removed her arm from her eyes, sounding hoarse and dazed “More than okay.” Renewed. Reborn.

“That’s great to hear.”

Her beloved pulled away, rose and leaned in, hands braced on either side of her. He looked half-crazed with desire.

“Now, take him in your hand,” Alviara’s voice urged in a sultry order.

Emeriel bent forward as much as her rounded belly allowed, wrapping her fingers around the thick, pulsing length of him. Warm, alive, throbbing with need.

She stroked him once. Twice. Watching his eyes darken, jaw tighten. Breath drag through clenched teeth.

And in that moment, Emeriel understood. This night wasn’t just about erasing pain, making her feel safe, or ensuring she wasn’t alone. It wasn’t even about Alviara’s guidance, her encouragement, her presence. It was about this.

Making her see that even with all his power, all his strength, she held all the reins that mattered.

She stroked him again, watching that great body tremble for her. He was staring—no, devouring—the view between her parted thighs with those green, savage eyes but he made no move to sate his torturous hunger. He didn’t shove her hand aside and try to enter her. She really held the power.

With a single word—“No”—it would all end. Her consent, her comfort… they mattered to him more than his own pleasure. On some level, she had always known this, but it was the first time in so long she felt it again—body, heart, and soul.

You are not helpless, yet you wish to be. You hold all the cards, all the power, right now, yet you desire to hand them over to him.

Tears filled her eyes as she released him and cupped his face with trembling fingers. “Please, come into me, Daemon.”

It was permission. A plea. A surrender freely given.

He had watched her struggle against herself. He had seen it all, yet she still expected his hesitation. But whatever he found in her face in that moment strengthened his resolve.

He shifted his weight and adjusted himself, his crown poised at her entrance. “Put it in, dearest,” he said gently.

She twisted and reached down again, gripping him. Tilted her hips forward, tears rolling freely down as she guided him into herself. “Help me,” she breathed.

And he did. Rolling his hips forward, he pressed inside until he was seated fully inside her.

Emeriel felt… at peace.

The ghosts were still there like shadows dancing in her mind, but that’s all they were now. Shadows. A distant past that no longer had any place in their present, or their future.

Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes as she smiled up at him. He laid over her, careful to keep his weight from her belly, his hand tender as he cupped her face, kissing away her tears.

It was beautiful. Feeling him again like this, stretching her, so thick inside her… it was amazing. Everything felt right again.

“Shhh…” He smoothed back the strands of hair stuck to her temple, tucking them behind her ear.

Her gaze roamed their surroundings again. And…