Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 677

Chapter 677: Third Floor Siren, Silk, Sin and Entranced

The third-floor hallway tasted like cold marble and secrets. The bass from below had shrunk to a dull, velvet heartbeat, pulsing up through the soles of my bare feet like a distant lover’s breath.

The air up here was crisp, laced with chilled cedar from hidden vents and the faintest trace of jasmine drifting from somewhere deeper.

Every inhale coated my tongue with the promise of something expensive and forbidden.

Two doors. One sealed like a tomb, matte black swallowing the red glow.

The other: oak, six inches ajar, exhaling a blade of warm amber light that cut across the runner and licked the edges of my toes.

The small light carried heat, the scent of vanilla bourbon and heated skin, the soft clink of crystal somewhere inside.

I pushed.

The door sighed open on oiled hinges, releasing a sigh of warmer air that wrapped around my chest like silk. The room hit me all at once.

Immense. Vaulted ceiling disappearing into shadow. One wall nothing but black glass and moonlit ocean, waves crashing thirty feet below in slow, silver explosions.

The carpet was fresh snow under my feet, so thick it swallowed every step, every heartbeat.

A single vintage brass lamp glowed low on a rosewood table, spilling thick honeyed light that pooled across the floor and dripped up the walls like molten gold.

And her.

In the center of it all.

She was dancing.

She wore a white lace robe, floor-length, sheer as breath, tied with a single satin ribbon that fluttered like a dying flame every time she moved.

Beneath it, a white lace thong so delicate the lace looked almost wet, clinging to swollen lips you could see pulsing faintly with her heartbeat. Matching bra, barely there, nipples dark and tight beneath the gossamer, rising and falling with each slow inhale.

The robe had slipped off one golden shoulder, baring the swell of her breast, the soft underside catching the lamplight like warm caramel.

Her skin smelled like coconut oil warmed by sun and skin, jasmine blooming from her pulse points, the faint salt of anticipation.

Blonde hair tumbled in thick, tousled waves down to the small of her back, ends brushing the twin dimples above an ass so round it looked sculpted by filthy prayers.

Every sway sent the robe parting wider: the carved plane of her stomach, the glint of a diamond belly ring catching the light like a wink, the soft shadow between thighs that flexed and released with every roll.

She danced to the ghost of the music drifting up through the floorboards: slow, filthy R&B slowed to half-time, bass notes thumping up through the carpet and into her hips.

Her movements were liquid sex: spine rolling like a wave, hips painting slow, obscene circles, arms overhead, fingers trailing through the air like she was pulling invisible lovers closer.

When she dropped low, thighs spreading, robe flaring like wings, the lace between her legs pulled tight, outlining every fold, every slick seam.

The air around her shimmered with heat. Her perfume thickened: vanilla bourbon, warm skin, the unmistakable musk of a woman already wet and waiting.

Every breath I took tasted like her.

I wanted her, wanted her so bad than I have ever wanted anyone after only a single glance but deep in me something protective could be felt awakening.

For some reasons, my whole being was screaming at me to approach her, be gentle, and above all wrap in in the shadows of protection all my women enjoyed!

Ice-blue eyes widened in shock, locking onto me in the dim threshold. The robe slipped another fraction, baring the full swell of her breast, the nipple stiff and dark against the lace.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!"

"You perverted creep!" she snarled, voice rising in pitch, eyes blazing.

"How dare you sneak in here like some sleazy stalker? This floor is restricted—off-limits! What, you think you can just waltz into private rooms and gawk at women? Get out before I call security and have you thrown out like the trash you are!"

She backed up a step, clutching the robe tighter, her chest heaving, the lace beneath rising and falling with each ragged breath. Her whole body was shivering, not because I was intimidating or startled her but like she’d been experiencing this before in a more abusive way.

"Bullshit!" She advanced a step, eyes narrowing to slits, face flushing red.

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