Pregnant by the Prince of Lust(BL)

Seraphel

"Spread your legs." The words slipped from Azriel’s lips, slow, sultry, and heavy with absolute command, as he gently but firmly lowered me onto a plush bed.

It was a massive, decadent mattress made entirely of fresh, fragrant white lotuses.

I stared up at him shakily, my entire frame trembling involuntarily as the phantom vibration deep inside my hole suddenly grew even more intense every seconds.

We had left the Abyss of Perfection after staring at the cosmic display for only a few fleeting moments. The scenery had shifted so fast, warping from the starry desert to this dark, private chamber within seconds, that I hadn’t even realized when Azriel snapped his fingers.

I was burning from the inside out, on the verge of going crazy from too much pleasure.

My body was completely overwhelmed by a maddening cocktail of intense pleasure and sharp, aching frustration. At this point, I didn’t care about the magic or the domain anymore—all I wanted was for Azriel to touch me. I wanted him to feel me, to wrap his heavy arms around me, and to finally show me exactly what he intended to do with my aching body.

"I won’t ask you again, Seraphel," Azriel’s voice dropped, shifting into a dangerously serious, dark tone that sent a chill straight down my spine.

Shivering, I quickly obeyed his command. I parted my thighs, exposing my trapped, hard cock and the wet, trembling entrance of my hole to his heavy gaze.

A wicked, thoroughly satisfied grin spread across his lips. Instead of climbing onto the bed of lotuses with me, he turned around and sat down on a grand, crimson-and-gold throne positioned directly opposite the bed, keeping his eyes locked onto my spread legs.

"Beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "You are absolutely breathtaking, Seraphel." He placed one elbow on the armrest, resting his chin on his knuckles as he pointed a long, elegant finger toward me. "Now, I want to see you dance with that thing vibrating inside of you."

My eyes widened in sheer horror. I instantly pushed myself up, sitting straight on the bed of flowers.

Was he actually going insane? Dance? How on earth was I supposed to dance in a state like this when my prostate was being relentlessly hammered by invisible, magical waves? When I couldn’t even think straight?

"I... I can’t—" I tried to protest, desperately wanting to talk him out of this cruel game and beg him to put me out of my misery.

But before I could even formulate a proper plea, Azriel was back on his feet. He glided effortlessly across the chamber toward a small, carved wooden chest. He flipped it open, retrieving a few items before returning to the edge of the bed. Without a word, he set down a beautifully polished glass bottle of exotic, scented oil—thick, slick, and smelling heavily of sweet jasmine and musk. Next, he lit a thin stick of dark incense, letting the sweet, heavy smoke billow into the room, before finally releasing a suffocating wave of his own dominant pheromones.

The intoxicating scents of black orchid, warm sandalwood, and dangerous red spider lily hit my senses all at once, completely overloading my brain. The pheromones acted like a powerful aphrodisiac; my cock throbbed violently against the tight lace of my lingerie, and my drenched hole clenched so hard around the invisible vibrator that my vision went entirely white.

I couldn’t help the high-pitched, desperate scream that ripped from my throat.

My back arched off the bed of white lotuses as my body violently crossed the line, sending a thick, heavy wave of cum exploding from my cock, soaking straight into the lace cup of the lingerie.

Azriel watched the entire display, a look of immense, dark amusement washing over his handsome face.

"I want you to dance," he murmured, leaning down to press the slick bottle of oil into my trembling fingers. "Dance for me while you strip away that brown robe. Let me see you in the outfit I chose for you. And as you dance, I want you to pour that oil over your skin, rubbing it into every inch of your beautiful body."

I gasped as he suddenly leaned in, biting down sharply on the fresh mating mark on my neck before running his hot, wet tongue over the stinging skin.

I gripped the silk of my robe with one hand and clutched the bottle of oil with the other, shutting my eyes tight as his pheromones completely filled my lungs.

My body shuddered violently, the internal vibrations spinning even faster, pushing me right over the edge for a second time. Another desperate moan escaped my lips as my body buckled, a fresh wave of warm cum spilling over the tight straps of the lingerie and dripping down my inner thighs.

I let out a weak, panting gasp. Even after spilling twice, the burning hunger inside my lower half refused to stop. The invisible toy was buzzing relentlessly for something thicker, harder, and real.

I craved Azriel’s heavy cock more than I could possibly describe.

"If you want me to get rid of that toy and put you out of your misery, then you will do exactly as you are told," Azriel said, his wicked grin widening as he stepped back. He returned to his grand crimson throne, crossing one leg over the other and resting his chin on his hand once more. "Dance, Seraphel."

"But... I can’t dance," I stammered, my voice thick with unshed tears. "I... I am struggling just to sit up. There is no way I can perform for you like this."

Azriel scoffed softly, shaking his head. "You danced in my room just a few hours ago and I believe you can. Do a strip dance for me now."

I bit my lower lip so hard I could taste the metallic tang of blood. I knew there was no escaping this. No matter how much I begged, the Prince of Lust always got exactly what he wanted.

He wanted a show. And luckily for him, in my past life, I had watched more than enough provocative choreography videos online.

Maybe if I showed him, he would put me out of my misery.

But as I prepared to stand, a sudden wave of anxiety hit me, and I instinctively placed my hand over my flat stomach, worried about the pregnancy.

Azriel’s eyes softened just a fraction, his grin turning knowing. "Do not worry about the child. I always place a powerful protective ward around the baby whenever I indulge us in the sinful acts of lust. So..." He paused, his crimson eyes locking onto mine with absolute, rules-free authority. "Dance for me, Seraphel. Touch yourself. If I am satisfied with your performance, I will put you out of your misery and fuck you. If not... then we are not leaving this domain tonight."

The dominant command in his voice was undeniable. By all accounts, I should have been furious at him for treating me like a toy to be controlled. But deep down, a twisted, shameful part of me actually liked it. I found his intense possessiveness incredibly hot.

Was I going insane? Finding something like this hot? What kind of spell was I on?

It wasn’t Stockholm syndrome. I hadn’t fallen in love with my captor out of survival; I had originally entered this demonic palace with a clear, calculated mission to find a way to eliminate Azriel and escape the plot of this web novel entirely. But somewhere along the line, the tables had completely turned.

Now, trapped under his dark allure, I had no choice but to surrender to his whims—and I was starting to enjoy every single second of it.

"Fine," I breathed out shakily, my fingers tightening around the glass bottle. "I’ll dance. I’ll strip for you."

I forced myself onto my knees on the soft bed of white lotuses.

Holding his gaze, I shrugged my shoulders, letting the elegant brown silk robe slip slowly down my arms, pooling around my hips until I was kneeling before him in nothing but the highly explicit, tight lace lingerie.

Azriel smirked, a dark, rumbling chuckle escaping his chest. "Beautiful. I knew that lace would look absolutely delicious on your skin."

"Can I at least get some music?" I asked, my voice trembling as I popped open the cap of the glass bottle.

I tipped the bottle, pouring the thick, warm oil directly over my collarbones. I let out a soft, shaky breath as the slick liquid began to cascade down my chest, running over my stomach and down my thighs.

Moving slowly to the rhythm of the harp and guzheng still echoing from the domain, I began to slide my hands over my own body, spreading the warm oil over my chest, my waist, and down the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, ensuring every inch of me glistened under the dim, warm light.

Azriel wanted a show and he`ll get one.