Douma proceeds to pull the smaller princess onto his lap. Small kiss is placed onto her neck, then further upwards, his teeth very weakly nibble on he earlobe. Clawed hands search the body of the princess "You are angry. You are so cute when you are angry." He whispers into her ear. His fangs showing in the usual grin.
“Ah, wait–” Luna was barely able to formulate even the slightest protestations before Douma snagged her like a riptide, the demon engulfing her petite form in his embrace like an eclipse. Already was she beginning to distantly regret the side-braid she’d put her hair in for the sake of work that had to be done, too impatient for its usual braids and ponytail. Work that would have her extremely preoccupied in the mid-level medical labs Fenestala was equipped with, yet it seemed that wouldn’t be the case. “Douma, I have work that has to be done,” the princess huffed as he embraced her tightly, indignation deflating to the attentions on her neck. Her body tensed at his ministrations, feeling awkward, but…not unwilling.