Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 671

Chapter 671: Attention

"Dude." Jaxon leaned in, voice dropping to a gravel rasp, that competitive edge sharpening until it could slice skin. "You just went viral. Like, right now. There’s probably fifty videos uploading of you this second. You’d have woke up tomorrow with ten thousand DMs, most of them nudes."

He said it like a threat.

Dex clapped his hands together—CRACK—the sound cracking through the thick, salty air like a starter pistol.

"Which is why we capitalize! Party at my place! Free drinks, pool, hot tub, and—" He swept one tanned, Rolex-flashing arm across the swarm. "—all these lovely people who want to worship our new Beach King!"

The crowd roared—a single, animal sound that rolled across the sand and made the gulls scatter. Phones shot higher. Girls screamed my name like they were coming on it.

Melissa pressed harder, hand sliding from forearm to wrist, then locking fingers, nails dragging slow—just enough pressure to leave faint white lines that flushed crimson in their wake. "You’re coming, right? Please say you’re coming."

Her voice had dropped low, intimate, a secret whispered against my ear despite the hundreds around us. Her nipples were diamond-hard, poking through neon fabric, brushing my arm with every breath.

"I’ll make it worth your while."

Her brunette friend—Amber—slid to my other side in one fluid motion, hip brushing mine, then pressing, grinding with every breath. The seam of her bikini bottom was soaked, slick heat seeping through onto my skin.

"We both will." She let her hand drift lower, palm flat on my lower abs, fingers curled just under the waistband, brushing the root of my cock. Teasing. Promising.

Of course you will, I thought, feeling their body heat sear through bikini fabric, smelling their arousal sharp and wet under coconut sunscreen and vanilla perfume—sweet, musky, dripping. Your cunts decided the second I stepped out of that tube. Your brains are still trying to catch up.

More women were gravitating now, pulled like planets into my orbit. The redhead—Sienna—had abandoned all pretense with Jaxon, eyes locked on me like lasers.

Two girls in matching neon-pink bikinis posed ten feet away, backs arched, tits thrust, phones angled for the perfect "candid" that wasn’t candid at all—one of them slipped a finger under her top, tweaking a nipple for the camera, eyes on me.

A thirty-something cougar in a black one-piece leaned against a cooler, watching with a predator’s smile, tongue tracing her lower lip like she was already tasting my cum.

The guys noticed. Some nodded bro-respect, fists bumping. Others went territorial, arms tightening around girlfriends who weren’t looking at them anymore.

One dude—six feet, decent build, tribal tattoo curling over a sunburned shoulder—yanked his girlfriend back by the waist. She’d been drifting toward our circle, eyes glued to me, pupils blown wide, lips parted, tongue touching the corner of her mouth.

"Babe, come on. We were gonna go swim."

"In a minute," she murmured, still staring, thighs clenching visibly.

"Babe." His voice got harder, knuckles whitening on her hip. "Now."

She finally tore her eyes away, turned to him with a sigh. "God, relax. I was just looking."

"Yeah, that’s the problem."

They moved off, but not before she glanced back—one last, starving look. Boyfriend saw it. Jaw clenched so hard I heard the pop of cartilage.

That relationship’s on borrowed time, I noted. Give it a week. Maybe less. She’ll be riding my cock by Friday, screaming my name while he jerks off to the memory.

"Weightlifting!" Colt suddenly bellowed, loud enough for the whole beach to hear. "We’re not done yet! Surfing was round one. Now we lift."

The energy shifted—electric, dangerous, delicious.

Jaxon’s grin turned feral, teeth flashing white in the dying sun. "Yeah. Let’s see if the boy’s all ocean and no muscle." His eyes dropped to my shorts again, lingering on the thick bulge, jealousy and challenge mixing.

Dex pointed down-beach, arm sweeping like a general. "Muscle Beach setup! Two hundred yards that way! Let’s move!"

The migration began—not a walk, a flow. Three hundred bodies surged across the sand like a living tide, coolers clanking, speakers thumping, phones flashing like paparazzi lightning. The sun bled orange and pink across the sky, painting every curve, every bead of sweat, every hungry stare in firelight.

Melissa tugged my arm, nails digging crescents. "Walk with us?"

I looked at her—tits heaving with every breath, nipples thick against neon fabric, begging to be sucked. At Amber—ass rolling with every step, thong riding high, camel toe visible, wet. At the half-dozen other women now orbiting, waiting like wolves.

At Colt’s crew watching with amusement, jealousy, challenge—Jaxon’s eyes burning holes through me.

"Lead the way," I said.

Melissa’s smile could’ve lit the darkening beach.

And I was the prize they fought over without ever saying it out loud.

"She’s just being friendly."

"Shut the fuck up."

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