I Sealed the Demon Lord for a Hundred Years, Now He Wants His Jailer novel · Chapter 11 of 24

Chapter 11: Chenjue

"Don't talk," Chenjue said again, in that voice that was not quite his own.

Wuhen lay under him on the rug and looked up into the red.

He knew that color.

He had seen it exactly once before, a hundred years ago, in the dark.

He had spent every day since trying not to remember it.

His heart was pounding hard enough to hurt.

He should have been afraid.

He found, with a kind of cold wonder, that he was only angry.

"Look at you," he said. "You've gone all bloody-eyed over a bit of fingering."

The hand on his wrists tightened.

"Stop talking."

"Or what? You'll tie me up? Chain me? Lock me in your palace?" He bared his teeth. "Do it. I've had worse from better."

The red flared.

Chenjue let go of his wrists and hauled him off the rug by the front of the robe.

Wuhen's feet left the ground.

He was thrown over a shoulder, and the room whirled.

Then his back hit the great carved door of the bedroom hard enough to rattle the hinges.

The breath left his lungs.

Chenjue's body pinned him there, huge and hot, and he caught Wuhen's chin in a hand that was no longer entirely a hand.

The nails had lengthened.

They were black and curved and pricked the skin along his jaw.

"You think you're so brave," Chenjue said, low and rough.

"I think you're so slow."

"Say that again," Chenjue said.

"You've been talking for an hour. Fuck me or put me down."

Chenjue made a sound that was not human at all.

He wrenched open the sash of his own robe.

He dragged Wuhen's legs up around his waist, no oil, no gentleness, and the thick hot head of his cock slammed against Wuhen's already-stretched hole.

Wuhen grabbed the horns with both hands.

"Do it."

"You're not ready," Chenjue replied.

"I've been ready for twenty-one nights. Do it."

Chenjue drove in.

It was a brutal, burning, shattering stretch, and Wuhen threw his head back against the door and screamed.

It rang down the corridor.

Chenjue didn't stop.

He thrust again, deep, and the door shuddered on its hinges.

Wuhen's nails raked down the demon lord's scalp to the roots of his horns.

"Fuck," Wuhen gasped. "Yes. Like that."

"You asked for it."

"Give me the rest."

He bit Chenjue's shoulder, hard, tasting sweat and smoke, and felt the whole body against him shudder.

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