Predatory Marriage - Chapter 393

Chapter 393 – Snow in the Desert (21)

Translator: Atlas / Editor: Regan

Ishakan stroked Leah’s head as she sucked him.

He was so large, he easily filled her throat. Every time his gl#ns touched the soft #vula in her throat, he drew back.

“Careful.”

Somehow, it annoyed her that he was being so careful of her throat, and she gripped him stubbornly tighter. Ishakan chuckled. So ridiculous.

Ishakan’s manhood stood straight upright. She didn’t even need to hold it. Leah’s head bobbed up and down as she licked his balls, then drew him back into her mouth.

“Leah…i” The name burst from Ishakan’s lips as she continued, the pleasure mounting. His whole body was taut. “I’m going to cum…”

He was trying to hold back.

“Let go of my hands,” he said roughly. He could have pulled them free, but Leah’s permission was part of the game.

And he had ignored her many, many times.

Now, Leah was getting even.

“No. Just cum,” she replied.

“Tsk…”

Ishakan tried to stop her, but she was determined to finish him, dragging him deep into her m0uth and then giving him a long sack until the whole length of him jerked and he finally erupted.

All over her face.

“Ah…”

Leah’s eyes were wide, her face frozen in surprise as he covered her with his seed, and Ishakan leaned over to gently wipe her face clear.

“You missed some,” he chided, and Leah belatedly blushed. But it made her proud that she had made him feel so good.

“Delicious,” she whispered.

“……”

Ishakan’s eyes narrowed.

“You want me to break the bed?”

Leah laughed at the playful threat and embraced him.

“Do it again.”

Ishakan immediately accepted Leah’s offer.

* * *

Bachmann walked down a long corridor with Hutan. Normally when he was with his son, he was brimming with confidence, but today he was so scared that he trembled, his teeth chattering.

The sight of the huge door made him despair. It was so enormous, it seemed impossible that any human could move it. And the door-sized woman beside it glanced at him and expressionlessly pushed it open.

With one hand.

It did not steady Bachmann’s nerves.

Together, he and his son followed her, feeling like sheep dragged to a slaughterhouse. In a cluttered room within, the King of Kurkan appeared in what looked like the aftermath of a meeting. He was sitting in a chair beside a window, with a long pipe between his lips.

The moment those gold eyes turned to him, Bachmann felt cold sweat run down his spine.

“When will you bring me the red-blooded fruit?” Ishakan asked, his eyes hooded and sleepy.