Page 60 of The Warlord's Secret Heir

He obliges.

One hand cups my ass, the other slides beneath the waistband of my leggings. I feel the shock in his breath as his fingers meet the wet heat of my pussy.

“Fuck,” he groans, red eye flaring. “You’re soaked.”

“For you,” I pant, biting my lip. “Only for you.”

He growls, the sound vibrating through my chest. “Then take it.”

Two thick fingers sink inside me, curling instantly. My back arches, stars exploding behind my eyes. His fingers feel... wrong and perfect. Slightly longer than human, textured. They hit every nerve, every sweet spot.

“Gods—Kyldak!”

“I want you to scream my name when I fuck you,” he growls, pumping slowly. “I want the whole damned moon to hear you.”

My body bucks against his hand, grinding down on his fingers. He works me open, stretching me, preparing me. My thighs tremble, hips rocking of their own accord.

“Fuck me now,” I beg, voice hoarse. “Please, I can’t?—”

He withdraws his fingers, smearing my slick on my inner thigh as he pulls back.

“Not yet,” he snarls, and drops to his knees.

I gasp as he spreads my legs wide, mouth finding my pussy with zero hesitation. His tongue is wide, rougher than a man’s, but gods—heknowshow to use it. He licks up my slit, then buries his face in me, tongue fucking me so deep I can’t breathe.

My hands slam against the wall, nails scraping down metal.

“Oh fuck—Kyldak—yes, yes?—”

He growls into me, sending aftershocks through my core. His claws dig lightly into my thighs, holding me open as he devours me like he’s starving.

“Look at me,” he demands, voice vibrating against my clit.

I force my eyes open. He’s watching me. Watchingeverything—how I tremble, how I come apart.

He doesn’t stop until I’m shuddering, hips jerking, climax tearing through me like lightning.

Only then does he rise, mouth slick with my need.

“Now,” he says simply. “You’re ready.”

He undoes his pants and his cock springs free—and gods, it’salien. Thicker than anything I’ve ever taken, ridged near the base, flushed with golden veins pulsing with heat. The head is broad, blunt, and dripping.

My breath catches. My legs shake.

“Can you take me?” he asks, voice gentle now. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I want to feel it,” I say. “All of you. Inside me.”

He growls again, low and possessive. “Then hold on, fire.”

He lines up, one hand braced against the wall behind my head. The other holds his cock steady as he presses the head against my entrance.

The stretch is immediate. Pain and pleasure. His size forces my body open, inch by inch.

“Fuck,” I sob, throwing my head back. “It’s too big?—”

“You’re taking it,” he hisses. “Gods, you’re perfect. So tight.”