The Terminally Ill Hero’s Husband is the Demon King

“Listen, human friend. We have individual tastes too. This isn’t to my taste. Someone who cries… and aren’t you already rather old?”

“It seems making a living is difficult whether you’re human or a demon.”

Gillian stretched out his arms and flopped back down. He felt resigned, and everything seemed exhausting.

Weren’t incubi supposed to make someone aroused and steeped in lust just by touching them? Now that he saw it, all they did was take on the appearance their prey liked, behave similarly, and touch their bodies. Their prey did not automatically fall into pleasure.

Gillian was disappointed and tired. He had expected that, now that he had met a being he could embrace to his heart’s content and even fall in love with without consequence, he might be able to feel good without making any effort. If sleeping with an incubus was the same as sleeping with a human, then incubi truly worked hard for a living.

No matter how many lonely nights Gillian had spent, as Rassel had said, or how willing he might have been to spend his entire life as free-ranging prey kept by an incubus as long as it made him happy, demons like incubi feared Gillian and were reluctant to approach him.

Had he ever slept with an incubus before, even someone as oblivious as Gillian would have noticed that Rassel was not one.

Rassel thought for a moment. There was more than one way to soothe a lonely man and win his heart. However, Rassel did not want to take the long and troublesome way around.

“If my prey wants to cry, perhaps I should let him.”

Rassel grabbed Gillian’s thighs and spread them apart, exposing his private parts. He sucked on his fingers to wet them with saliva, then pushed them into Gillian’s tight hole and thrust them forcefully. Gillian writhed in pain.

“Argh, ah!”

Rassel pressed down on Gillian’s chest to stop him from rising, then continued. He worked him open without concern for how overwhelmed and distressed Gillian was. He started with two fingers, then inserted three before Gillian had any chance to grow accustomed to them.

Because they were inside an illusion controlled by Rassel, Gillian’s rear grew wet and slick, making the work easier. It only made things easier for Rassel. Gillian felt as though he were dying, but that was none of Rassel’s concern.

Rassel withdrew his fingers, placed his fully erect manhood against the hole, and pushed. Gillian understood Rassel’s intentions, but thought there was no possible way. His hole was too narrow and tight for Rassel to fit all of it inside.

Rassel recklessly forced the large, hot thing into him, and somehow, it went in. If it was going to fit, then it ought to either not hurt or feel good, but instead, it only hurt as though his hole were being torn apart. Struggling was useless, and he had no choice but to accept the penis forcing its way inside.

“Ah! Aah, it hurts!”

“It’s alright. You won’t die. Shh… This is inside your dream. You wouldn’t die from something like this in reality either, so don’t worry.”

Every time Gillian thought Rassel could not possibly push in any farther, and that he could not endure any more, Rassel invaded a little deeper. Astonishingly, Gillian eventually took Rassel’s entire pillar to the very hilt.

The pressure was indescribable. It felt as though his stomach would burst or he would suffocate to death. Amid it all, the fact that he could feel the coarse texture of Rassel’s nether hair against his groin was maddening.

An incubus truly was a demon. Gillian was experiencing firsthand that they tempted people and sometimes gave them pleasure, but were fundamentally selfish and wicked beings. Even after coaxing, soothing, and loosening someone, they readily inflicted suffering.

“It hurts, ah, hng.”

“You won’t tear. Even if you do, it’s alright. You’ll be perfectly fine when you wake up.”

Incubi were the sort of beings who whispered horrifying things like the fact that any harm done to his body here would not carry over into reality, as though that was supposed to reassure him. It intended to keep ramming into him without stopping, even if Gillian cried or screamed.

Gillian felt afraid in a way unlike himself. It was not because of the pain or humiliation. It was because he did not dislike Rassel doing this to him. He had simply never thought about it before, but perhaps, deep in his heart, he had wanted a savage and cruel coupling that felt like torture… and that the thought made him nauseous.

“Khng! Nn, mm, ngh! It hurts, hah… Hahk, nng…”

“It’ll feel better soon. Alright? I’m giving you something good, but instead of taking it quietly, you keep clenching down. Stop squeezing so hard and behave yourself.”

Telling him to behave, Rassel sharply slapped Gillian’s ass from below.