Predatory Marriage Chapter 393: Snow in the Desert (21)

Ishakan stroked Leah’s head as she s#ck3d him.

He was so large, he easily f#ll#d her thro@t. Every time his gl#ns t#uched the soft #vula in her thr#at, he drew back.

“Careful.”

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

Ishakan’s m#nh#0d stood straight upr!ght. She didn’t even need to hold it. Leah’s head bobbed up and d#wn as she l#ck3d his b#lls, then dr#w him b#ck !nto her m#uth.

“Leah...!” The name burst from Ishakan’s lips as she continued, the pl3as#re m#unt#ng. His whole body was taut. “I’m going to c#m#...”

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 c#m#,” she replied.

“Tsk...”

Ishakan tried to stop her, but she was determined to f#n!sh him, dr#gg#ng him d3ep !nto her m0uth and then g!v!ng him a l0ng s#ck until the whole l3ngth of him jerked and he finally er#pt3d.

All over her face.

“Ah...”

Leah’s eyes were wide, her face frozen in surprise as he cov3red her with his s#ed, 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 bre@k 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.