Ensnaring his Dark Moon-Chapter 276: Coy Esme

His eyes however held amusement and a warning that seeked an answer to his previous question ’’So, tell me Princess, who is your man?’’

His eyes screamed ’Answer’

Her lips tilted up slightly as she looked at him in the provocation, seemingly saying, ’Make me’

Esme was more stubborn even on the verge of her doom. She dug her fingers harder inside his skin as moved closer to him, gliding on his length with her movement, her face flushed with desire.

Aleister gritted his teeth and grabbed the back of her knee and yanked one of her legs up as he placed her ankle on his shoulder, her body was raised upwards.

Esme was amused at how her body was not breaking apart. But her amusement withered away when she felt him filling her differently, deeper this time, hitting places she did not even know existed.

’’Ahh... There...’’ she clung to him, to soothe the desperate itch growing in her body.

But the ruthless man smirked like a scoundrel, ’’Who is your man, Princess?"

Esme bit her bottom lips, still unwilling to answer but she knew if she didn’t, he would torture her further. And her body seemed like it would catch fire any moment from now on.

A thin layer of sweat covered her face and neck, her heart thudding inside her chest as she leaned closer and tilted her chin.

Esme kissed his neck, ’’You,’’ she whispered, ’’You are my man.’’

But a victorious smirk was not what she saw on his face. It was the gradual darkening of his eyes that was paired with a ferocious look, ’’You are so dead tonight, my dear moon.’’

If death sounded so seductive, Esme could die every night.

Her thoughts were in shambles as the man took himself out of her before entering inside her with a hard thrust.

She gasped. Their chests collided with every hard thrust as she clung to him. A few times, she was still able to hold back on her moans but by the end, Esme was in a mess, moaning and screaming his name, ’’Ahh... Al, there... I...’’

Just as she was screaming, she heard the sound of approaching footsteps, ’’Someone is coming...’’ she whispered. Even though her body was fully aware, her body and mind were in shambles, ’’Al...ahh... it might be the King.’’

’’Then, Princess, we should be quieter now,’’ his words were yet to drop when he captured her lips and increased the pace of his thrusts.

Her ankle which was initially placed on his shoulder had now slid to his back as the man had half-carried her by now. Her knee was bent near his shoulder as her heel dug into his back. One of his arms strongly curled around her waist while he harshly thrust inside her, feeling her to the brim.

Her body went lax and she melted in his arms weakly but his movements did not cease.

He kissed her passionately and the thoughts of being thrown inside the dungeon by the king for turning this holy place unholy left her mind as Aleister pulled himself out and with a rough thrust, entered her again.

She squeezed around him, feeling his warm juices spilling inside her.

And from the corner of her eyes, Esme saw a hazy silhouette before both of them disappeared from the library. Their lips and bodies still flushed and pressed against each other.

All she could hope was this ancient library and Aleister’s pure divine powers did not have a consciousness of their own or these things would know that both of them had tainted their holiness without holding back.

Jeremiah glanced at the empty library and his brows were furrowed in confusion. He had heard some vague noises earlier.

The King told him that Esme was here alone and he had come to find that vain woman, expecting her to be stirring some new trouble but much to his surprise, their was no one inside.

The King had gone back to handle some matters so he sent him to accompany Esme.

Jeremiah’s lips curled down in disdain.

Three more days. He wanted to marry that woman right at this moment to mark the end of the troubles in his way to claim what was his but that was not possible.

He could not arouse anyone’s suspicions at this juncture. Chiefly, not Rezeph’s.

Hence, what he needed to do was be patient.

Be a little bit patient.

Once he married that woman, having her body and putting his seeds inside her would be the end of this threat hanging on his head.

As he thought about it, Jeremiah’s vicious expressions softened a bit.

He turned around and left the library. To think that all these years, he was not allowed inside this place despite being the heir apparent yet the King let him come in just for the sake of that woman.

He frowned in displeasure and went to his room to accompany the women who were sent by Marcus.

...

’’It seems like it was that fiancée of yours. The one you address so lovingly as ’Jer’,’’ Aleister ripped off Esme’s clothes to shreds as they fell on her bed inside her room, his thrusts were lazy and slow, driving her to the point of insanity and bringing her back from the brink.

’’You are my fiancé,’’ Esme ground out through gritted teeth, ’’Don’t I call you Al?" Without her memories, she had been genuine towards Jeremiah for the most part until that day when he told her that he had lied to her all along. Lies about her identity? Luciana’s lies were different matter but Jeremiah’s were different. Luciana did not pretend to be her sister, but Jeremiah pretended to be her lover. The moment she had recovered her memories, she realized what he was up to after she pieced a few things together.

And Aleister knew it, Yet, he was being so petty.

’’Is it, my dear moon?" he pulled himself out, rubbing at her wetness gently, gliding up and down.

Esme almost cried, as she instinctively pressed her thighs together to trap him in between, to soothe that itch that was once again growing inside her body, ’’Al... I love you...’’ At other times, Esme would have coughed up blood if she had acted this coy. But she realized that in bed, she had no shame left inside her. She hooked her arms around his neck and looked at him with teary eyes, ’’How can you do this to me?"