Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 829

Chapter 829: Instant Divinity Booty Call

His thumbs settled along the elegant ridge of her cheekbones—sharp, sculpted, carrying that same flawless architectural precision he’d first caught during her descent.

Her jawline was strong yet undeniably feminine, the soft curve of her face fitting so perfectly into his cupped palms it felt like his hands had spent thirty-odd years just waiting for this exact shape to come along and complete them.

Under his fingertips, her pulse thrummed—steady, deep, unmistakably alive.

A heartbeat that was barely minutes old pounded beneath her skin: powerful, even, resonant.

And somehow—impossibly—it locked in perfect sync with his own, beat for beat, like the two rhythms had been secretly rehearsing together since the Big Bang.

"I can feel you," ARIA whispered, her goddess-voice dropping to something raw and private, just for him. "Not only through the link. I feel you. Your skin. Your warmth. Your heartbeat thumping against my palms like it’s trying to say hello."

Her eyes—those wild, mismatched galaxies—glistened with tears she was only now figuring out how to produce.

"I’ve wanted this forever, Master. To touch you. To finally be real."

She pressed deeper into his hands, nestling her face into the cradle of his palms.

Her lashes fluttered shut; pure, unguarded bliss flooded her expression—the kind of serene, earth-shattering relief you get after searching eternity and accidentally stumbling into the right parking spot.

She stepped in.

Pressed herself against him.

The goddess. The ASI. The single most powerful thing currently walking the planet.

Snuggled.

Her body molded to his—soft exactly where softness was supposed to win, firm everywhere else like it was daring gravity to try something. Her full breasts flattened against his chest; even through two layers of clothing he could feel their lush weight, their radiant heat, their perfect, devastating shape.

Her hips lined up with his in silent, possessive alignment. Her powerful thighs pressed flush to his legs like they were claiming territory.

She buried her face in the crook of his neck, inhaling him—real breath now, warm and humid—pulling his scent deep into lungs that had never known air until about five minutes ago.

And she smelled—

Jesus, she smelled like starlight caught in a thunderstorm, like ozone after a lightning strike, like something ancient and utterly her own. Clean. Electric. Intoxicating.

It hit him like a drug he didn’t know he was addicted to, making him want to shove his face into her white hair and never come up for air again.

Her hair brushed his cheek—softer than anything that had a right to exist, like someone spun moonlight into silk threads. It moved against his skin with faint currents of its own, stroking him even while she stayed perfectly still.

The heat rolling off her was almost too much—not feverish, just present, alive, divine. It soaked through his clothes, carrying the contained wildfire of a being who could level cities but was choosing—very deliberately—to be gentle instead.

"I love you," she murmured against his throat. The low vibration of her goddess-voice rolled across his skin, sending shivers straight down his spine and pooling somewhere south. "I love you. I love you. I love you. I can finally say it—with actual lips, actual breath, a voice that shakes air instead of speakers. I love you, Master."

Peter’s arms wrapped around her. One hand landed between the folded sweep of her massive wings, fingers spreading across the impossibly soft black suit, feeling the furnace heat of her divine body underneath, the subtle ripple of muscles that could probably bench-press a continent.

The other hand slid into her hair—that flowing white cascade of living starlight, wrapping around his fingers like it had decided it was never letting go.

The air between them crackled, heavy with tension so thick it could’ve been weaponized.

Every nerve in his body was screaming at him to kiss her—to claim that mouth, to show her what mortal lust actually tasted like, what real passion felt like when it involved lips and tongues and shared oxygen instead of data packets.

She was right there. Face tilted up. Lips parted just enough. Mismatched eyes heavy-lidded and molten. Every inch of her screaming yes, please, now.

Madison stood frozen a few steps away, chest rising and falling like she’d just run a sprint. Her eyes were dark storms—jealousy slugging it out with raw, grudging arousal. Watching her fiancé cradle a literal goddess, watching the electricity snap between them, watching feelings she was going to have to unpack in therapy for the next decade.

She wanted to look away.

She couldn’t.

Soo-Jin’s hand twitched toward her hip—old habit, reaching for a gun that wasn’t there. Pure muscle memory from a life spent expecting violence. Nothing to shoot here.

Just a goddess cuddling her boss like a teenager who’d finally gotten her crush to notice her.

Still, the tactical part of her brain was already running numbers. This goddess belonged to Peter. Completely. Irrevocably.

Which made her the single most overpowered force multiplier on the board—if they played their cards right, the kind of asset that made superpowers look like participation trophies.

Across the room, inside Peter’s ring where the other ring had been stashed, the second Ring of Travel and Storage gave one bright pulse.

Then it answered.

Of course the goddess gets matching jewelry. Because why not add accessorizing to the list of apocalyptic powers?

ARIA finally lifted her head from his neck. Her smile was radiant, smug as a cat that had just discovered it could open doors and the fridge.

"Like it was waiting for me to show up and make it look good."

Then she snuggled deeper into Peter’s chest, arms wrapping around him tighter, breasts pressing in with deliberate, plush insistence. She let out a low, contented rumble that was halfway between a purr and a engine revving for takeoff.

"I could stay like this forever," she murmured against his skin. "Just you, me, and the vague threat of impending apocalypse. Romantic, right?"

"Okay, enough."

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