Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 894

Chapter 894: Like Mom (r-18)

He thrust upward to meet her next drop—hard, deliberate—driving his cock even deeper. "You’re so good, Sarah," he rasped, voice raw and reverent. "Tighter now... wetter... hungrier... you take me like you were fucking made for it... just like mom does, but you’re mine now... only mine..."

The words shattered her control. She rode him like she was possessed—fast, sloppy, relentless—hips snapping, ass clapping and rippling wildly against his thighs, breasts bouncing with every brutal plunge.

Her clit ground frantically against his pubic bone with every downstroke; her inner walls fluttered and clenched around his veined length, stretching and releasing in obscene, glossy detail—puffy lips dragging outward on the upstroke, swallowing him whole on the downstroke, slick shining on his shaft in thick, glistening strands.

When the orgasm hit it was violent—her whole body locking, back arching sharp, head thrown back in a raw, animal scream that echoed off the walls.

Her pussy clamped down like a fist—rhythmic, powerful spasms milking every inch of him—fresh floods of slick squirting out around his base in hot, messy arcs that splattered his abdomen, soaked his balls, dripped in thick rivulets down his thighs.

Peter groaned—deep, guttural—hips bucking once, twice, holding her down as she shook through the aftershocks, cock throbbing hard inside her spasming heat. He didn’t come—not yet—but the sight of her riding him to ruin, looking so much like Linda yet so perfectly, possessively his, nearly undid him.

She collapsed forward—chest heaving against his—sweat-slick skin sticking together—still clenching weakly around his cock in sleepy, possessive pulses.

Her breath came in ragged sobs—half pleasure, half overwhelmed shame at how far she’d gone, how fast she’d ridden him, how the comparison to her mother had only made her come harder.

He wrapped both arms around her—holding her close—kissing her temple, her cheek, her tear-streaked lips.

"You’re perfect," he whispered, voice thick with awe and possession. "So fucking perfect."

He didn’t give her time to come down.

The moment her aftershocks faded to trembling whimpers, Peter’s hands clamped harder on her hips—fingers sinking deep into the soft, sweat-slick flesh just above the swell of her ass—and he delivered a sharp, resounding slap to her right cheek.

The crack echoed through the room like a whip, the impact making her plush flesh jiggle violently and bloom instant pink.

Sarah yelped—high, startled, almost shocked—her pussy clenching violently around his buried cock in instant, greedy response. The sudden spasm milked him from root to tip, fresh slick surging out in a hot rush that coated his balls and dripped audibly onto the sheets.

"YES! Again," she gasped, voice wrecked and wild, eyes glassy with fresh hunger. "Harder."

Peter obliged.

His palm cracked down on her left cheek—harder this time—the sound wetter, sharper, the sting blooming bright and immediate across her skin.

Her ass rippled outward in soft, hypnotic waves from the point of impact; the flesh quivered, flushed deeper pink, and she cried out—raw, needy—hips snapping forward in a frantic grind that slammed her swollen entrance down onto his thick base with a filthy, wet slap.

The sound of her ass meeting his thighs was immediate and obscene—sharp, rhythmic claps that filled the room—followed by the slick, sucking squelch of her pussy swallowing him whole again.

She rode him like she was trying to break them both.

No more teasing circles.

Pure, desperate, savage bounces now.

She lifted high—almost pulling off completely—her stretched outer lips dragging outward along his veined shaft in glossy, clinging rings, exposing every thick, glistening inch coated in her shining arousal—then dropped hard, ass clapping against his thighs with a resounding smack that made her breasts bounce wildly and her clit grind brutally against his pubic bone.

Each downstroke punched the broad, flared head of his cock against her cervix—deep, punishing—sending dark, aching pleasure radiating through her lower belly in heavy, throbbing waves.

Her inner walls fluttered and spasmed around his girth on every brutal plunge, stretching taut and releasing in obscene, glossy detail: puffy pink petals clinging desperately to the veined length on the upstroke, then folding back in as she slammed down, swallowing him to the hilt with a wet, sucking sound that echoed wetly between them.

She slapped her own ass—twice in quick succession—left cheek, then right—hard enough to leave stinging red handprints that matched the blooming marks from his earlier strikes. The sharp sting shot straight to her clit; she moaned louder—high, broken—hips snapping faster, ass rippling and jiggling with every frantic bounce.

"Fuck—yes—harder—" she sobbed, voice cracking into desperate, pleading cries.

"Just like MOM," he rasped again, voice rough with memory and dark possession. "She rides me like this—fast, filthy, slapping her own ass while she takes every inch—but you... you’re fucking wild today."

Sarah’s pace turned completely savage—lifting higher, dropping faster—ass slapping his thighs in rapid, wet smack-smack-smack bursts that echoed like applause.

"Slap me—please—make it hurt—"

"You’re gonna come again," he growled, thrusting upward to meet her next drop—hard, deliberate—driving his cock even deeper, the head kissing her cervix with brutal precision.

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