Disguised Before The Alpha Prince

Chp 61

Pearl’s POV

My breath hitched as Demyan’s weight settled over me, his lips brushing against mine with aching tenderness — so gentle, it contradicted the storm raging inside both of us. His body trembled, as if every ounce of control was fraying by the second.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered, his forehead resting against mine, eyes clenched shut.

I didn’t. I couldn’t.

Instead, I reached for him, cradling his face between my hands. “I trust you,” I said, voice soft but steady. “I want this… I want you.”

Something inside him broke or maybe it was unleashed.

He kissed me again, this time with fire. No more hesitation. No more fear. Just raw, burning hunger. Our bodies tangled like two halves trying to fuse back into one. I felt him guide himself against me, the moment charged with unspoken promises. My hands slid down his back, anchoring myself to the reality of him.

And then—

I gasped, my body stretching around him, welcoming him. It was overwhelming, the fullness, the heat, the ache like something sacred and dangerous all at once. A soft cry left my lips as he stilled, giving me time, his mouth never leaving mine.

“I’ve dreamed of this,” he breathed against my skin, voice breaking. “Of being inside you. Of making you mine.”

My heart clenched at the way he said it as if he wasn’t claiming, but surrendering. Offering every scar, every breath, every part of him.

We moved together, slowly at first, like a rhythm only our bodies knew. I could feel him shaking with restraint, as though even now, he feared hurting me. But I wasn’t afraid. I was undone completely, utterly, willingly his. And in that hidden room, with the world locked out, there was no prince. No mission. No danger. Only us.

A sharp gasp escaped me the moment he pushed forward deeper, fuller than I thought I could hold. Pain bloomed first, sudden and real. My body tensed, and I instinctively clung to his shoulders, eyes wide, breath caught in my throat.

He stopped. Completely.

His eyes met mine burning but gentle, clouded with restraint. I could feel the tremble in his arms, the war inside him as he hovered above me, his lips parted with shallow breath.

“Pearl…” he whispered, brushing his knuckles along my cheek. “You’ve never...?”

I shook my head slowly, the heat rising in my cheeks. My eyes welled with tears I hadn’t expected not from pain, but from how I felt in that moment.

His gaze drifted downward and I knew he noticed the slight trace of blood. His jaw tightened, but then a small, broken smile touched his lips. He leaned down and kissed me soft, reverent.

“I’ll be gentle,” he promised, voice hoarse and filled with something that sounded like worship. “I swear.”

And he was.

With every slow, careful movement, he made space for me to breathe, to feel, to adjust. The pain faded into a fullness that stole my breath, and warmth began to flood in its place intense, unfamiliar, but not frightening.

Our hands entwined above my head. His lips brushed over mine again and again as if to remind me that I wasn’t alone in this. That he was here not just in body, but in soul. “You’re mine,” he whispered into my skin, as if it were the only truth he knew. “And I’ll never forget this moment. Ever.”

I didn’t know how long he’d been moving inside me only that time had blurred into heat, need, and the way he held me like I was something precious and wild all at once. His stamina felt endless, only intensified by the pill he’d taken. He wasn’t stopping. He wasn’t even close.

He lifted me effortlessly, like I weighed nothing. My back was pressed against his chest, and I could still feel him deep within me. His dickk was burried deep inside of me. My body was trembling, overstimulated, burning, but craving more. His strong arms wrapped across my stomach, holding me firmly in place as my head fell back against his shoulder.

He knew exactly how to break me apart — and how to piece me back together.

Then he moved us again.

I found myself on his lap, still facing away, my thighs stretched wide across his. He was stretching my thighs apart so that I could have a good look at the view in front of me. The mirror in front of us reflected the rawness of what we were, the flushed skin, the tension, the way I arched against him as if he were the only thing tethering me to this earth.

His voice was hoarse when he leaned in, breath hot against my ear.

“Look at us, Pearl,” he whispered. “Look how your body takes mine.”

My heart pounded as I followed his gaze to the mirror. We were one. Yet, I could feel there was more. A part of him he hadn’t given me yet.

“You’re not even taking all of me yet,” he murmured, voice thick with restraint. “But you will. It’ll ache a little—but you’ll love it.”

A soft moan escaped me, head spinning with need and emotion. “Then give me everything, Demyan. All of you. I want it.”

His grip tightened ever so slightly. “You already have all of me,” he growled against my skin. “And I’m taking every part of you.”

Then he moved, deeper than before and all I could do was hold on.

Demyan's breath ghosted over the shell of my ear, warm and uneven. I was wrapped in his arms, locked in a rhythm I couldn’t control and didn’t want to. Every inch of my body was hyper aware of him, his heartbeat against my spine, the heat of his skin, the possessive way his hands traced across my waist as if memorizing me all over again.

“You feel it, don’t you?” he whispered, voice strained and dark. “How perfectly we fit… like the moon was made to orbit the same star, over and over again.”

I didn’t have words. Just the sound of my breath catching and the rush of blood in my ears as he pulled me tighter.

He shifted beneath me again, slow and deliberate, as though determined to make me feel every movement, every pause. I whimpered softly, my fingers digging into his forearm where he held me still.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, placing a kiss on the nape of my neck. “Do you want me to stop?”

I shook my head frantically. “Don’t,” I breathed. “Don’t stop. Please.”

His low growl rumbled through my back. “Say it again.”

“I want you,” I whispered, voice breaking. “I want you, Demyan. Only you.”

He turned my face gently, forcing me to meet his eyes through the mirror. They were darker than I’d ever seen — full of hunger, but also something deeper. Reverence. Worship.

“I’ll ruin you, Pearl,” he said, voice a vow and a threat. “You know that, right? After tonight, you’ll never be the same.”

My heart fluttered.

“Then ruin me,” I whispered back. “If it’s you, I’ll never want to be whole again.”

He groaned softly, his lips trailing along my jaw before returning to my shoulder, leaving a fire in their wake. His hands moved down again, gripping my thighs as his pace deepened, his control fraying. And still, he watched me in the mirror — watched the way my body answered only to him.

This wasn’t just passion. It was something primal, something sacred. Something that bound souls.

And I surrendered to it completely.

______________

Warmth.

That was the first thing I felt, a deep, all-encompassing warmth that wrapped around me like a second skin. I stirred slightly beneath the heavy blanket, my body aching in places I never knew could ache, and a soft sigh escaped my lips.

Every part of me felt worn and utterly claimed.

I tried to shift, to sit up but I couldn’t. His arm was draped over my waist, solid and unmoving, keeping me locked against his chest like I might vanish if he let go. His grip was gentle, but possessive… like even in sleep, he wasn’t willing to part from me.

My head rested against his bicep, and I could feel the slow rhythm of his heartbeat under my cheek. Calm. Steady. As if he hadn’t turned my world inside out just hours ago.

I peeked up.

Demyan was still fast asleep his face serene, strands of his dark hair brushing over his forehead, lips parted slightly. The early morning light filtered in through the curtain, casting golden lines over the sharp angles of his face. He looked… peaceful.

Gods, he was beautiful.

My cheeks flushed remembering how he had whispered my name like it was the only word he knew. How he held me so tightly through every wave of pleasure and pain. How he kept saying I belonged to him, and how I wanted to believe it.

I tried to slip out from his grasp, but his hold tightened instantly, a small growl rumbling in his throat.

“Don’t…” he mumbled, voice hoarse from sleep, his lips brushing my shoulder. “Stay a little longer.”

I froze, heart stammering.

“Demyan…” I whispered, but I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say. I didn’t have the strength to argue. My body still felt sore, tender in the most intimate of places, reminding me of everything that happened last night.

Every part of me still hummed with him.

So I gave in, pressing my forehead against his chest, letting his scent warm spice and something deeply masculine — lull me back into stillness.

And in that moment, wrapped in his arms, under his breath and heartbeat, I realized something with terrifying clarity. I never wanted to leave.

I tried to move.

A soft hiss left my lips as soon as I shifted my legs, a sharp ache flared between my thighs, spreading like a dull burn across my lower back. I flinched, immediately stilling, biting my lip to hold back a whimper.

Gods… everything hurt.

I heard stories of people having their first time. I had even read about it in books hidden under my pillow. But none of them warned how real the ache would be, how my muscles would feel stretched, used… claimed.

My body was sore in places I hadn’t even known could ache. And no matter how much I willed myself to get up, I simply couldn’t.

I lay there, completely still under the thick blanket, blinking up at the ceiling in silence. My cheeks flushed as memories of last night rushed in like a wave. Demyan… his voice, his hands, his warmth, the way he said my name like a prayer.

And then I felt it the way his arm gently tightened around my waist.

“Pearl?” came his deep, gravelly voice, still laced with sleep.

I tried to answer, but my throat was dry. All I could manage was a small nod as his hand slid from my waist to the side of my hip, his thumb brushing softly along my skin.

His warmth shifted behind me as he sat up slightly, then leaned over to see my face. His brows immediately pulled together.

“You’re in pain,” he said quietly, concerned, darkening his gaze. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to wake you,” I murmured, forcing a small smile despite the discomfort. “Besides… I’ll be fine.”

His jaw clenched. “Pearl, you can’t even move.”

He sat up more fully, the blanket slipping slightly, and gently turned me onto my back, his hand supporting my waist. I winced again, and his expression turned sharp with guilt.

“I shouldn’t have…” he paused, his voice rough. “I lost control.”

“No,” I whispered, placing a hand on his chest. “You didn’t. I… I wanted it. All of it.”

“But still,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from my forehead. “I should’ve been gentler. You’re so small... and I—” he looked away, jaw tight. “You’re in pain now because of me.”

A soft silence passed between us.

He leaned down then, pressing a warm kiss to my shoulder not out of hunger, but comfort. His hand gently moved to my thigh, and I tensed, but he only massaged the muscle there, trying to soothe the ache.

“I’ll give you a warm bath,” he said quietly. “Stay in bed. Let me take care of you this time.”

I nodded, watching as he slipped from the bed, naked from the waist up, his muscles flexing as he wrapped a robe around himself and moved to the bath chamber.

And as I lay there, aching, wrapped in the scent of him on the sheets, I realized something else.

Demyan hadn’t just taken my body last night.

He had taken my heart too.