Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 933

Chapter 933: In-Club Counter (r-18)

She was still trembling from the orgasm that had ripped through her from nothing more than the tip of one finger.

Chest heaving, thighs glistening with her own slick, eyes glassy and unfocused.

"Please..." she whispered again, voice hoarse and broken. "Ruin me while she sleeps... make me yours."

I didn’t answer with words.

Every second count with a horny lady in your suite, doesn’t it? Hehe~

I stood, slid my hands under the full curves of her ass — fingers sinking into the soft, yielding flesh, her ass felt perky and firm in her skirt, I was already wonder how they feel naked — and lifted her like she weighed nothing.

Patt gasped as her feet left the floor, — a soft, surprised sound that melted into a needy whimper when I carried her the three steps to the marble kitchen counter of the suite and set her down on the cool stone edge.

The chill of the marble bit into her ass cheeks through the thin fabric of her skirt. She hissed softly at the contrast — hot skin meeting cold stone — and her thighs instinctively clenched once before I stepped between them.

Her skirt had already ridden high on her hips. I hooked two fingers into the tight hem of her skirt and slowly, deliberately dragged it the rest of the way up until the fabric bunched uselessly around her waist like a ruined belt.

Her thighs spilled out— full, juicy, thick and plush in all the right places. In the low golden light of the suite, they looked obscene: smooth, lightly tanned skin glowing with a fine sheen of sweat, the inner flesh softer, paler, almost luminous, already shiny with thin trails of her arousal that had leaked down from her soaked panties.

The meat of her thighs quivered with every shallow breath she took; the plush curves trembled when I pressed my hips forward, spreading them wider. Up close they felt like warm velvet under my palms — heavy, yielding, the skin fever-hot and slightly tacky where her slick had trickled down earlier.

Every time she shifted, the inner surfaces slid against each other with a faint, wet whisper.

I stepped fully between those thick thighs, forcing them apart until her knees hooked over the counter edge, feet dangling helplessly. My hands stayed on her ass — kneading the soft flesh, spreading her cheeks slightly so her soaked panties pulled tighter against her swollen folds.

Then I leaned in and kissed her.

I was already so hungry for her. I did not want to wait anymore n claiming every inch of her.

The kiss was deep, claiming, filthy as I claimed her mouth. My tongue pushed past her lips like I already owned the inside of her mouth, tasting the faint bitterness of wine and the sweet-salt desperation on her tongue.

She moaned into me— loud, broken —hands flying up to clutch my shirt, her grip was pretty firm, then my shoulders, nails digging in as she tried to pull me closer.

Her thighs squeezed around my waist instinctively, thick muscles flexing, trying to drag my body flush against her dripping center which she was, as it seemed, wanted me to claim already. The heat pouring off her core was unbearable — even through my trousers I could feel how scalding she was, how her soaked panties were already leaving a wet spot against my abdomen.

When I finally broke the kiss, her lips were swollen, shining with spit, parted on shallow pants.

I dropped to my knees right there on the marble floor.

Patt’s breath hitched audibly — sharp, almost pained. "Eros... what are you—"

I didn’t answer. I simply leaned forward and pressed my open mouth to the inside of her left thigh — high, right where the softest, warmest flesh met the edge of her soaked panties.

I could already smell more of her waiting dripping pussy. Her scent was that of an aged pussy without a real cock surely as her thoughts had supplied.

It was so rich and made me want her more. Just like a feeling of smelling an aged wine.

From this alone, I could tell Patt wasn’t a toy person and preferred the real cock.

The first contact of my lips against her skin made her shudder violently like something was going through her— whole body jerking like I’d shocked her. Her thigh felt fever-hot under my mouth, the plush meat trembling against my tongue as I dragged it in a slow, broad stripe upward.

She tasted faintly salty from sweat, sweet-musky from the trail of her arousal that had leaked down earlier — thick, heady, coating my lips and tongue with every lick. The skin was impossibly soft, yielding under the slightest pressure, dimpling when I sucked gently, then blooming pink when I pulled harder her skin with my warm mouth.

"Oh my gods..." she whimpered, head falling back against the cabinet with a dull thud. Her hands flew to my head — fingers plunging deep into my hair, gripping so hard my scalp stung. "Eros... your mouth... on my thighs... fuck... it’s too much..."

She was shaking uncontrollably now from, just now.

Her thighs clamped around my ears — not to trap me, but because the pleasure was overwhelming her and I didn’t mind this grip at all. The plush inner flesh pressed hot and slick against my cheeks, trembling violently with every kiss.

She tried to close them tighter — hips started rolling helplessly in search for my tongue to go to her mouth— but I held them open with my shoulders, spreading her wider so I could reach higher.

{His mouth feels like fire... every kiss is sending shocks straight to my clit... I’m dripping onto the counter... while Rory sleeps right there... I’m letting a teenager mark my thighs with his mouth on a hotel kitchen counter... and I want him to keep going... how old is he even...

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify