The plea hung in the air, a raw, desperate prayer that seemed to ignite the very oxygen in the room.
Sabrina's eyes were wide, filled with a mixture of terror and absolute ecstasy, her body trembling beneath him like a leaf in a hurricane. She was his. She had given him everything—her pleasure, her submission, her soul—and now she was begging for his mark.
Jax didn't speak. He didn't need to. The Demon King understood the language of possession, and he was fluent.
A low, guttural growl tore from his throat, a sound of pure, unadulterated dominance. His eyes flashed with a malevolent, predatory light. He pulled his hips back, his cock sliding out of her with a wet, obscene *pop*, the friction sending a fresh wave of shivers through both of them.
"You got it, little succubus," he growled, his voice a dark rumble that vibrated against her skin, ready to give her exactly what she wanted, "You want to be bred? I'll breed you. I'll fill you so full you'll taste me for a week.♥"
