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The Demon Lord’s Bride (BL)

Getting transmigrated inside a novel is not really a bad thing—you know the story, you have the power of the future in your hand, you know all the hidden keys. You might as well end up as the most powerful and omniscient being in that world. That is, if you don’t wake up during the epilogue. And yet I find myself in the body of a fallen priest at the end of the novel, a tragic hero who had his mana circuit broken in the last war, being shunned, drown in debt, and destined to die not long after. Fortunately, I know just the cure. Unfortunately, the cure was in the hand of one of the Demon Lords—you know, the race that my kingdom just wage war with. Would he give me the cure if I asked him politely? There’s no harm in trying, right? I’d die if I didn’t get the cure, anyway. “Sure, but you have to be my bride as the price,” the Demon Lord said. ...huh? Sir, you know I’m (technically) a priest, right?

Aerlev · LGBT+
Not enough ratings
498 Chs

How do people exercise their breathing?

The moment those words came out of my mouth, I felt his hand on my waist and nape, holding tight, pulling me closer. The gleaming silver eyes disappear from my sight the moment he claimed my lips.

Again, it felt as if the rest of my body was melting and tingling. Holding tight to his shoulder, there was nothing I could do but left Natha consumed me.

But it was different from the last time. He wasn't as aggravated, and while it felt consuming, his lips were gentle. Rather than feeling as if being pulled in a sprint like before, he guided me patiently this time. The hand on my nape moved my head along with his, so our lips slotted better with each other. He rubbed my nape gently, and I parted my lips as if being coaxed, feeling his tongue slipping inside.

Clutching on his shirt and closing my eyes tight was the only thing I could do as he roamed my mouth with his flesh, each touch sending a tickling sensation all over my body.