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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+
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656 Chs

In the night when nothing else mattered (M)

"Na—Natha!"

Was that my voice, pathetically whimpering in a mix of whine and moan? That high-pitch keen and loud gasping sound that I only imagined existed in porn?

I had no idea. I had no leeway to discern the obcenity of my state as I grasped his hair and panted against his face, as he nuzzled on my cheek with a smile on his exploring lips. He still held me tight, and oh so tenderly on my back, making sure my bent figure and wobbly hips didn't topple down. But his other hand...oh, that effin' hand!

His fingers kept on exploring my inside, massaging the walls and digging deeper, as if widening a tunnel. He did it slowly, persistently, making sure it was wet enough for him to move, and halted for a bit every time I whined that it stung.