Page 29 of The Demon King's Destiny

He used their bodies to pin the material between them before slowly gliding his fingers along the skin of her leg. He inched leisurely across to her inner thigh, then up.

His fingers touched lace and he thought he’d spend in his trousers. He wanted to drop to his knees and see her underthings. His demon agreed wholeheartedly and Marrok threw him back in his cage.

This was about Evelyn, not about him. Tonight, she’d not be teased. She would be rewarded for her acceptance of their bond.

Marrok cupped her center and her hips jerked. He pressed harder and she did it again. Goddess above, she was responsive.

“Please,” she breathed into his mouth. Her thoughts were muddled, her only focus was soothing the growing ache between her thighs.

Evelyn’s plea was more than he could stand. Marrok used a claw with delicate precision to tear apart the lace. He yanked it from her hips and hastily stuffed it in his pocket. Now that he had full access, he retracted his claws and used his middle finger to stroke her folds.

His mate was wet. For him. He shifted and ground his erection into her upper hip.

He stroked her folds again and then circled her hardened nub. Evelyn’s sharp intake told him all he needed to know, giving away exactly how and where she wanted him most. He repeated the action. Once, twice, three times.

Her body started to tremble and he increased the speed of his hand’s movements. When his finger dipped inside and his thumb pressed on her clitoris, Evelyn broke the kiss and bit into his pectoral. Her muffled yell vibrated across his chest.

Marrok secured her to him with his left arm while his right hand worked to draw out her orgasm. He could feel her spasms against his fingertips and he longed to feel them while he thrust between her legs.

Soon, his demon promised.

She was still coming when she dissolved in his arms, sighing his name.

* * *

Evelyn came to, panting and gripping her sheets tightly. Her body was still pulsing from her pleasure, the phantom touch of her male a whisper upon her skin.

She slid her hand down to cover her mound, trying in vain to duplicate the contact. She couldn’t.

She also couldn’t feel her underwear.

* * *

Marrok awoke to the sound of his own shouts as he stroked his shaft to completion. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d touched himself and been so sensitive.

Breathless, he looked down at the mess he’d made and frowned. Wrapped around his cock, covered in his semen, was a swatch of torn white lace.

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