Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 682

Chapter 682: Moonlight of Bruised Ecstasy (r-18)

The thick white carpet beneath us had become a soft, swallowing sea of plush warmth, muffling every sound except the ragged, animalistic symphony of our heaving breaths and the wet, desperate slurps and smacks of our insatiable mouths.

Lila lay sprawled across my chest, her sweat-drenched skin gleaming under the fractured silver moonlight that poured through the massive glass wall, casting ethereal shadows over our tangled bodies.

Her blonde hair formed a wild, tangled halo, strands plastered to my shoulders and neck with our mingled sweat. Her lips—swollen, raw, and bruised from hours of devouring kisses—brushed my jaw in soft, worshipful grazes, each one sending electric sparks racing through my veins, reigniting the inferno of lust.

"Again," she whispered, her voice a wrecked, husky rasp thick with desperation, vibrating against my skin as she tasted of salt, jasmine, and the sharp, primal edge of her dripping need.

I answered without words—only action.

My hands, still quivering from the piano keys and the frenzy of our earlier madness, slid down the elegant curve of her spine, fingers tracing the slick trail of sweat along her vertebrae, lingering on the faint ridges of old scars, then pressing into the fresh, blooming bruises that throbbed hot and purple under my touch.

She arched into me like a bow drawn tight, a deep, throaty moan—"Mmm, Eros"—spilling from her parted lips as I gripped her ass cheeks brutally, squeezing the tender, bruised flesh hard enough to wrench a sharp, delicious gasp from her throat, the sound echoing off the glass like a plea for more.

Her lace thong was utterly destroyed—soaked through and ruined, clinging obscenely to her swollen, puffy pussy lips like a translucent second skin, the scorching wet heat pulsing through the denim of my jeans where her greedy cunt ground relentlessly against my trapped, throbbing cock.

I rolled us with slow, predatory deliberation, pinning her beneath me as her back sank deep into the plush carpet, moonlight bathing her in silver glow and deep shadows, her bruises blooming like dark, erotic constellations across her flushed golden skin.

I claimed her mouth again, hard and ravenous, my tongue plunging deep in a filthy invasion, tasting the heady mix of bourbon, sweat, and the faint metallic tang of blood from our split lips.

She moaned into the kiss—"Fuck, yes"—her hands fisting my hair viciously, yanking me deeper as her nails raked my scalp with stinging fire, making my cock twitch and leak against her.

Our teeth clashed in hunger, tongues warring in slick, sloppy battle, lips sucking and biting until they burned raw, the obscene, wet schlicks and slurps of our kissing filling the room like a profane, addictive hymn.

My right hand roamed down her trembling body, cupping the heavy weight of her breast, thumb teasing her nipple through the sagging, sweat-soaked lace bra until it stiffened into a hard, dark peak begging for abuse.

"Touch me there—fuck, please," she gasped, voice shattering as I pinched viciously, rolling the sensitive bud between rough fingers, twisting just enough to draw a broken cry—"Oh God, harder!"—that rumbled through my chest like thunder.

I devoured her throat next, sucking fresh, angry bruises over the fading ones, my tongue lapping at the frantic, hammering pulse beneath her salty skin.

She writhed wildly, hips bucking upward, her soaked pussy grinding against my thigh with wet, rhythmic slaps through the lace, the friction so intense it blurred my vision with raw need.

I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her ruined thong—fabric slick, warm, and reeking of her arousal—and tugged it aside with a slow, torturous pull.

The lace caught on her engorged, swollen lips, peeling away with a lewd schlick-schlick sound, finally revealing her bare cunt: glistening obscenely, flushed deep pink, dripping thick strands of arousal that caught the moonlight like liquid diamonds trailing down her thighs.

I crushed her mouth once more, swallowing every desperate moan as my tongue fucked hers in perfect rhythm with the slow, invading slide of my fingers. One thick digit first, then two, plunging into her scalding heat—walls clamping tight and pulsing greedily, soaking my hand instantly in a flood of creamy juices that squelched with every thrust.

"Fuck, you’re drenched—soaking for me," I murmured against her bruised lips, and she cried out sharply, her body convulsing around my fingers in wet, rhythmic squeezes that promised she was already on the edge.

"Yes, yes—fuck, don’t stop!" her voice shattered into a desperate, sobbing plea as I curled my fingers deeper, stroking that slick, swollen velvety ridge inside her with ruthless precision, feeling her walls flutter and grip like a vice.

Her hips bucked wildly upward, chasing my hand with frantic need, the obscene, sloppy squelches of my fingers plunging into her drenched pussy echoing through the room—schlick-schlick-schlick—rhythmic and filthy, blending with her escalating moans and the faint, distant thump of the party raging below.

"Right there—fuck, right there, don’t stop!" she screamed, voice raw and breaking, head thrown back in abandon, her blonde hair spilling across the white carpet like a golden, tangled flood under the moonlight.

I didn’t relent, driving her higher—kissing her savagely through the peak, my tongue plunging deep into her mouth, swallowing every muffled cry—"Eros, I’m coming—fuck, I’m coming so hard!"—as her body convulsed in violent tremors, thighs clamping down like iron around my hand, nails digging deep into my shoulders, carving bloody crescents that stung deliciously.

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