If your pulse quickens for forbidden bonds, slow-burn surrender, and dangerously sensual fantasy worlds.... this story will ruin you in the best way possible. 💋
Step inside Daimyra’s world. Read “Innocent Cravings” on Stck [@Gulabi_stories]
Enter only if you’re ready to crave what you shouldn’t. 🌶️
🥵 Read the first taste here ... just enough to feel the pull. 💋
Then slip over to @Gulabi_stories (https://rhrose.stck.me) for where the real heat begins.
🔥I PROMISE… HER SMUT WILL RUIN YOUR SLEEP, NOT YOUR MOOD.🫦
🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️
CHAPTER 1
“She is here,” Kailith’s mother said quietly, standing at the threshold of his study.
Kailith’s jaw tightened until the bones in his face creaked under the strain. Thirty years old by Daimyra reckoning, an age of full command and power, and yet the mere mention of her sent a storm through him. She was human. Nineteen. Barely more than a child.
He was a thirty-year-old Daimyra, a species humans often compared to demons, and she—a human—was only nineteen.
In his world, the world of higher beings where Daimyra, Vampires, Werewolves, and Fae walked, nineteen was considered a baby. A woman was not truly a woman until she turned twenty-five, and humans, with their fragile, fleeting lives, bled as early as eleven and were allowed to give consent by eighteen. Kailith never understood it; he found it downright disgusting. But nature had been cruel enough to bind him to a half-Daimyra mate—a woman more human than Daimyra—and she was only nineteen. Nineteen and already in heat, a phenomenon that didn’t occur in full-blooded Daimyra women until they were at least twenty-five, sometimes even later.
When he had first learned of her existence a year ago, “angry” hadn’t even begun to describe what he’d felt. Shocked. Enraged. Betrayed by the very nature that had crafted him. How could fate bind the Prince of Daimyra, the strongest of his kind to someone so breakable? How could she ever withstand a creature like him?
“Thank you, Mother. You can leave now,” Kailith said without turning toward her.
The twelve-foot-tall doors of his study loomed ahead, crafted from polished darkwood and carved with the sigil of House Daimyra—a serpent wrapped around a flame. Beyond those immaculate doors waited his mate. The one he had seen only once before.
Thirteen months ago.
At Nakanda University’s three-hundredth anniversary convention, where the best of the higher species gathered in pride and power. Kailith had been the chief guest—Prince of the Daimyra, heir to the first flame. The 1,500-square-foot seminar hall had been crowded, every inch filled with eager faces. Yet, even without looking, he had known.
She was there. His mate was there.
His senses had flared like wildfire, his beast stirring before his eyes found her. And when they finally did, when he spotted her sitting at the far corner of the hall, tiny and uncertain, with her curly hair half-tamed and large glasses slipping down her nose, it had taken everything in him not to move. Her gaze had locked with his, wide and startled, like she had never seen a Daimyra before. In that instant, the world had gone utterly still. His demon form, the shadowed beast that slept under his skin, had risen like a roar inside him. His heart thundered as if he were in flight; his body went taut, every nerve alive with fire, all because of a small, fragile human.
He had left immediately, before the beast decided to claim what wasn’t ready to be his. Clara, his assistant, was sent to dig into her background.
Her name was Gloria. Nineteen years old. A second-year student at Nakanda, specializing in Higher Species Studiesand ironically in Daimyra physiology. Born of tragedy, she was the unwanted result of a rut-bound Daimyra’s violence. Her mother had died giving birth to her, and Gloria had been raised by human foster parents, blissfully unaware of her mixed blood until a school blood test exposed it. That alone had earned her entry into Nakanda, half Daimyra, brilliant, but so terribly unprepared for the weight of what she was.
A woman who had no business being his mate.
For a year, Kailith had avoided the inevitable, believing time was on his side. He could wait ten more years, perhaps longer. But fate had other plans.
She had gone into heat.
Among full-blooded Daimyra women, heat did not come before twenty-five, often later. For the half-blooded, it came unpredictably early. And for those who had already scented their mate, as she had scented him that day in the hall, spending the heat without her mate would be unbearable.
Worse, Daimyra bonds ran both ways.
No matter how far apart they were, her heat would pull at his mind, her suffering would vibrate through his veins as if it were his own. Already, he hadn’t slept in days. Not because of her but because of the all the recent work he was doing.
He had a council meeting tomorrow, an assembly of the High Species, where he would stand for the presidency. He needed focus, sanity. But her pain was like fire under his skin, constant, unrelenting.
There was only one way to calm it. He had to give her his venom…the only thing that soothed a Daimyra mate’s heat, that could ease her torment and in return his.
It was not desire that drove him. It was survival.
“She was made aware of both of your bonds today. She is young, innocent, be gentle with her. Be careful,” his mother said, worry evident in her voice.
“I will do what I need to do, mother. You don’t need to worry about her.”
“Kailith..”
“Mother..thank you for your help,” he said, cutting her off. She gulped before leaving him.
He pressed his palm to the door. The wood creaked under his touch as the hinges groaned open.
She was there, standing by his desk, gnawing nervously on her nail and pacing the floor. The Nakanda uniform, a cream blouse and knee-length pleated skirt made her look even smaller, absurdly out of place in his grand study.
Kailith’s throat tightened. She smelled faintly of rain and smoke and something far more dangerous…heat.
He cleared his throat.
She jumped, spinning toward him, her wide eyes reflecting both recognition and fear.
“Good morning.”
CHAPTER 2
Gloria looked at Kailith Dimitri and forgot how to breathe.
The man standing before her wasn’t just anyone; he was the figure she had seen countless times on magazine covers, news panels, and Higher Species broadcasts. The future president of the Higher Species. The prince of the Daimyra. The one they called the Prince of the First Fire.
A year ago, she had seen him in person for the first time, at her university’s anniversary celebration. Every girl in her class had attended that day just to catch a glimpse of him. The infamous Kailith Dimitri, more legend than flesh, more enigma than man.
And now he was here. No, she was here, in his home, in his study and she couldn’t stop staring.
He stood at least six foot four, his presence swallowing the space between them. Power rolled off him in waves, heavy and oppressive. He looked twice her size, maybe even thrice, all sharp lines and restrained strength. His black shirt clung to his frame, and for a fleeting moment, Gloria wondered if the heat flooding her veins was all due to the heat or more.
Clara had told her everything that morning, after Gloria had woken in her dorm room drenched in sweat and pain, thinking she was dying. The woman had walked in with quiet authority and calm eyes and told her the impossible:
The prince of Daimyra was her mate.
Her mate.
The word had sounded ridiculous in her mouth, like something stolen from a fantasy book. But Clara’s expression hadn’t changed, and when Gloria realized where she had seen that face before on TV, always standing beside Kailith during public addresses, she understood this wasn’t a prank. The werewolves in the dorm were notorious for their cruel jokes, but this wasn’t one of them.
Clara had explained it in clipped, careful words: the pain she felt was heat. A biological call triggered by her Daimyra half and the bond between her and Kailith had awakened the moment they’d seen each other at Nakanda University all those months ago. He had felt her suffering as sharply as she did. And now she was here, at the Dimitri Estate, so that the prince could… “Take Care Of Her Condition.”
Gloria still had no idea what that meant.
“Sit on the table,” he said.
His voice was deeper than it sounded on television rough, commanding, the kind that filled every inch of space and left no room for hesitation. It slid through her like a pulse, making her knees weak.
She blinked, uncertain, and cleared her throat. “On… this one?” she asked, pointing awkwardly at the desk behind her.
“There’s only one table here,” he replied flatly, his tone sharp enough to cut. He sounded like a man with a thousand better things to do, and she was a problem he’d rather not have.
Heat crept up her neck, burning its way into her cheeks as she obeyed. She almost tripped, catching herself on the edge of the table before managing to sit. The polished surface was cool against her thighs, a sharp contrast to the fever building beneath her skin. She smoothed the creases of her skirt, trying to compose herself, spine straight, knees pressed together, hands folded tight on her lap. When she looked up, Kailith was watching her like she was some strange creature that had wandered into his world by mistake.
“Hi,” she croaked, voice barely there.
His face didn’t soften. If anything, the flicker of annoyance in his eyes deepened.
He moved toward her in slow, deliberate steps, each one echoing across the marble floor, the rhythm of his approach collecting in her chest like another heartbeat. The air between them thickened, heavy with something she couldn’t name.
“Remove your panties,” he said. No hesitation. No warmth. Just command.
Her breath caught. “What?” she managed, legs pressing together as if her body could shield itself from his words. What was he going to do to her?
“You heard me.”
“You want me to get my panties off?” she asked, disbelief tripping over her tongue.
“That’s what I said.”
Her pulse pounded so violently she could taste it, could feel it in her fingertips. Then it came…the heat. A molten trickle sliding down her thighs, proof of everything Clara had warned her about, cruel and undeniable. It wasn’t just need; it was nature. The thing that would tear her apart if he didn’t act.
She swallowed hard, trembling fingers dipping under her skirt, hooking at the hem of her panties. The movement felt endless and slow, every inch of fabric dragging against her skin louder than the click of his shoes, louder than her own heartbeat.
Kailith never looked away from her face. Not once. His gaze pinned her in place, dark and unreadable, as if he were watching a storm he had called into being but didn’t quite trust to obey him.
Her panties slipped down her thighs and pooled on the floor with a faint, trembling whisper of sound. Kailith stepped closer, his presence stretching around her until the air itself seemed to hum. Two of his fingers brushed the inside of her knee, a touch so light it could have been imagined, and yet fire raced up her leg. He pressed gently, and she didn’t resist. There was no point. Her Daimyra studies told her that the heavy pulsing in her blood could only be answered by him.
He pushed her knees apart, slow but firm, until her breath came ragged and shallow. Her chest rose fast, skin flushed and tight, nipples tingling, the heat inside her coiling low and deep.
Kailith brought his thumb to his mouth, to the tip of one sharp fang, one she had never grown, the mark of what she was only half of. The fangs of the Daimyra, capable of delivering venom that could kill an elephant within seconds. He pressed until a small bead of liquid welled up and gleamed beneath the light. Then, with deliberate calm, he rubbed his thumb against his forefinger and middle finger, coating them with the deadly shimmer, before lowering his hand.
Instinct made her tense. She tried to close her legs, fear spiking through the fog of heat.
“No,” he growled, voice deep and resonant as his thigh slid between hers, stopping her movement. “You need this.”
Her voice broke. “That’s going to kill me.”
“It would,” he said, eyes locked on her face, “if you weren’t my mate.” His tone softened just barely. “Relax.”
Then his fingers touched her clit, the one no one had ever touched before and her world shorted out. Every nerve lit up, every thought disintegrated into a shuddering gasp. He didn’t fumble, didn’t search; he found it easily, as if her body had always known it belonged beneath his hand.
She squeezed her eyes shut, the sensation flooding her, dizzying and bright. Her legs trembled..
He turned his palm upside down, sliding his fingers down the slippery fold until it reached her core. He circled his fingers around it, testing, before he pushed them inside, a few inches, no more and paused, his gaze flickering to her face.
“You’ve never been with a human male?”
“Or Daimyra, or were, or vampire, or fae,” she blurted out, breathless, her attempted smile collapsing under the weight of sensation.
“I would know if any Higher Species had touched you,” he said, voice edged with something dark. “But why not even a human?”
“I… I never had a boyfriend,” she admitted, the words falling apart between gasps.
He sighed softly, like the revelation irritated him, his eyes half-lidded and knowing as his fingers slipped inside. There was a sting, but only a slight one, before it dissolved into something magical. Heat, need, pleasure like no other. She could feel her juices trickle down, drench her skirt under her butt.
“You study Daimyra…you should know this small hole won’t work, right?” Kailith asked, holding her gaze as he moved his fingers in and out, the fullness almost uncomfortable if it wasn’t for her slick.
“I…I…” What was she going to say?
“Even my damn fingers are too big for you,” he gritted.
“I am sorry,” she muttered.
He snickered, not out of humor though.
“Suck in breath,” he said and before Gloria could understand what was happening he was pushing his fingers deep inside her, as deep as it could go.
A broken gasp escaped her lips, part discomfort part suprise.
“Need to coat your cervix with my venom,” he grunted trying to find it and once he did she felt a dull pressure as his fingers swiped against it. As soon as he was done he pulled his hand away and stepped back. The sudden absence of his touch was jarring; heat bled from her body in an instant, leaving her shivering and empty. She almost stumbled, knees weak, breath catching as reality rushed in.
He turned without a word and disappeared toward the back of the study—she assumed a bathroom—his silhouette fading into the dim light. She stood there frozen, the silence echoing faintly against the marble and polished wood. When he returned, his hands were shoved into his pockets, his face carved from stone, every trace of what had just happened wiped clean.
Something twisted in her chest. It wasn’t the fading bloom of her heat now, but a dull ache, heavy and sharp. She didn’t want this…this bond, this claim, this inevitability which had been forced upon her by biology and fate. She could admit he was breathtaking, terrifyingly so, but attraction was a cruel thing when it came with chains. Men like him existed in a different world, and yet somehow, she had been dragged into his. Why did he look at her like she was the burden? As if she had trapped him.
“Put your panties back on,” he said, not glancing at her, his attention fixed on the glowing screen in his hand.
Gloria blinked once, twice, before snapping into motion. She bent quickly, snatching her panties from the floor, her movements hurried and clumsy, shame rushing to swallow her whole. The air still smelled like him, dark, warm, charged and she wanted to escape it. She pulled them on hastily, her cheeks burning. Why had she thought he was going to make her come? That had never been the purpose. Efficiency…that’s all this had been about. She could already feel her body cooling, the fever within her fading, piece by piece.
“Thank you… I should… I should leave,” she whispered, her voice unsteady.
“Hmm,” he replied without looking up. His thumb flicked across the phone as if she were nothing more than a trivial distraction. “Stay home for the next two days. Take plenty of water, and…” He lifted his head, finally meeting her eyes, his tone flat and unbothered. “Break your hymen, for fuck’s sake. We’re bound to have sex at some point, and I’d rather not make it more difficult for me than it already will be.”
The words hit harder than she expected. There was no gentleness in him, no trace of the man who had touched her like an inferno only minutes ago. Just cold practicality, as if her body were a problem to be managed.
🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️
I’m burning with excitement right now— go to her page and dive into the rest of it.
Here’s the link… you’ll thank me later 😈✨
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Miss_Shubhi ❤️
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