Han visited his Maid Restaurant.

His maids were doing excellent work there, and it seemed the recent night attack had spread across the city, helping the Maid Restaurant's popularity. There was a silver lining. Han used the back door and the staff-only area to peek into the bustling restaurant.

Xena is getting bullied, Hanna is the most popular, and the other maids are mostly popular with older patrons who like to confide in them. Well, things are going great.

The room hummed with steady noise: chairs scraping, mugs clinking, quiet laughter rolling from table to table. Laborers sat beside clerks; off-duty guards kept helmets at their elbows. The uniforms his maids had chosen made the place feel orderly: clean aprons, tidy ribbons, polished shoes. Even from the staff hall he could see the rhythm: greet, seat, pour, listen, clear, repeat.

Hanna moved like a conductor. A glance to the counter sent a pot of tea down the line. She kept light conversation with each table, remembered names, and never lingered long enough to slow service. No surprise she was the favorite.

Xena handled the rowdy corner. The men at that table nudged one another and tried to rile her up with cheap jokes. She flinched at the first punch line, the plate on her tray wobbling before she caught it. Her jaw set. In a low voice, she leaned in and said, "Keep it up and I'll smash this plate over your heads, one by one." The table went quiet. She straightened, smoothed her apron, and pivoted away with a sharp little "harumph." The sound broke the tension, and the corner laughed.

The older patrons favored the quieter booths. His maids poured them tea and listened. Stories came out in low voices. The girls did not pry. They nodded, offered a towel for wet sleeves, and kept the cups full.

He watched as a boss should. He studied routes and table turns. Uniforms were neat. Hair was tidy. Smiles were real. He noted a few small fixes for later, but the machine ran well.

He had come because Denver had told him about the Blood Mistress's scheme. It seemed she had seen through Han's little ploy, and she was eager to send them to Demi-Human territory soon.

He was sure this mission to select slaves in their territories would include dangerous scouting, battles, and survival. He wanted to see new lands and face new experiences, but a problem weighed on him.

Do I close both businesses, or keep one open?

If he shut down both businesses, he would be able to bring every maid and pet with him. If he closed only one, half of his forces would travel with him. The Maid Restaurant relied heavily on Hanna; the Underworld Clinic relied on him. Bellatrix could try to fill his shoes, but most clients surely came for him.

So far, most of his clients were sex workers and ordinary people with scars. If he left, most of his clients would return to their previous Underworld doctors.

As Han weighed his choices, reclining in the chair with his legs crossed and his head propped on his hand, Hanna knocked and walked in after he called her. She wore her special maid dress for this restaurant and looked as if she had hurried; a tray was pressed to her stomach.

"What's the hurry?" Han asked.

"…I am not sure. I felt it in my bones that Master had a dilemma weighing on him. I felt like running over to offer my utmost assistance. I apologize if I intruded on your privacy…" Hanna explained, bowing low.

Her Maid Restaurant dress was modest: no cleavage and not even a small slit exposing her thighs. Only Han had seen everything those clothes hid.

He smiled. "No need. Still, it's interesting. Our dragon connection seems solid and more mysterious than I thought. You can feel my feelings, so perhaps I would be able to feel yours?"

At those words, Hanna's cheeks reddened and her eyes widened. She clutched the tray tighter and stared at her master with an unbelievably adorable expression. On her expectant face, her lips unconsciously curved into an elated, sultry smile, turning her into a dangerous weapon against men.

Han fell under the spell of her looks, but his Dragon's Pride would not allow him to lose his senses. Still, he stared deep into Hanna's eyes, trying to feel the secrets hidden in her heart.

His bloodline heated up.

Collar me.

Fuck me.

Slam me against the floor.

Fill me up.

Her deepest desires to be thoroughly claimed by her master reached him. His heated blood flowed down to his cock and swelled it into a lance that strained his pants. Han had been so busy with all matters and had only toyed with his pets and maids, but now he wanted to take things further.

He smiled. "Get on all fours and come over to me."

Hanna dropped to her knees, then set her hands on the floor. She crawled to her master, instinctively knowing he wanted her to grab his thighs and look up at him from below.

His erection told her more than enough. He wanted her. He saw through her. He finally noticed her.

Stretching his hand toward her head, Han stroked her hair. "Now I see why I smelled a little like you every morning. You must have quenched your desires with my smell, didn't you? What did you do?"

"I sniffed your hair and pressed my lips in a soft kiss… as well…" Hanna said.

Han smiled. "Without my permission?"

Hanna's lips parted. Shock rippled in her eyes, and her expression folded into an apologetic, nearly fearful one.

"Do you understand what that means? You'll start with me, and depending on your performance, I'll decide whether to fulfill the deepest wish I can see through our Dragon Bloodline."

Hanna nodded. "Understood…"

"To collar you…" Han whispered.

Hanna gulped.

"To fuck you brainless."

Hanna's eyes glazed.

"To slam you down and fill you to the brim…"

Hanna drooled.

Han sneered. "It all depends on your performance now. Your head. Now."

Heeding his order, Hanna tugged his pants down just enough to reveal his briefs pulled taut by his cock. Some of his precum already stained the fabric, which made Hanna smile as his scent intensified.

Finally, she let his cock spring free. Heat rolled off him. Veins stood out along the thick shaft, the head flushed and slick. He twitched in her hand, heavy and alive.

"Mm…" Hanna's breath hitched. She lowered her face and pressed a slow kiss to the head. A thin string of precum clung to her lips as she pulled back. She licked it up and shivered.

She started with long, slow strokes of her tongue from base to tip, then traced the ridge under the head in patient circles. Wet sounds filled the quiet room. She moaned against him, and the vibrations ran through his length.

Han's fingers slid into her hair. His thighs tightened. A low groan rumbled out of his chest.

Hanna opened wide and took him in, inch by inch. Her cheeks hollowed. Her jaw worked. She breathed through her nose and pushed until the head nudged the back of her throat. She gagged softly, eyes watering, then steadied and took him a little deeper. Spit glistened on his shaft and pooled on her tongue. Drool slipped down her chin.

She set a rhythm. Short bobs. Deep takes. A swirl of tongue on the way up. A firm seal of lips on the way down. Her moans turned breathy and needy. More. Take more.

Han's grip tightened. His hips lifted to meet her. Heat coiled in his gut, then snapped. He pulsed hard in her mouth, the first thick rope hitting her tongue, then another, then more. She swallowed fast, throat working, but it was too much. Seed spilled from the corners of her lips and streaked his thighs and pants.

"Disappointing," Han scoffed.

Hanna's expression turned apologetic. "Forgive me, Master."

She leaned down to kiss his thighs and lick his pants, thoroughly cleaning him. She cleaned her own mouth with slow, careful laps along his skin until every trace was gone.

When she finished, Han gathered her hair into a bundle and guided himself back between her lips. "Now you keep pace with me."

He held her steady and began to move. Short, controlled thrusts. Then deeper. Her throat flexed around him. She relaxed and let him in. Spit strings snapped between her lips and the base of his shaft. Wet, obscene sounds echoed off the walls.

Hanna's eyes stayed on him, glassy and adoring. She hummed for him, and the hum made him throb. Her hands braced on his thighs. She eased one hand up to wrap under the base, holding him steady as her mouth worked the top half with quick, tight pulls. He grunted. His stomach clenched. Good.

He quickened the rhythm. Her breath turned ragged through her nose. Tears gathered at her lashes and slid down, and she never looked away. He filled her mouth again and again, guiding her head at his pace.

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.