Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 991

Chapter 991: Results Of Three Strides (r-18)

Three strides. That’s all it took to reach the wide desk that had already witnessed her ruin once.

I set her down on the edge—firm—then stepped back half a pace just to look at her.

City skyline bled muted gold through the frosted windows behind her head.

The office was sealed, soundproofed, supposedly private—but the risk still crackled in the air like static: hallway cameras, assistants who might double-back for a forgotten tablet, the low electronic hum of security somewhere overhead.

One wrong moan too loud, and the sister of the Empress would be trending for all the wrong reasons tomorrow morning.

She didn’t give a fuck about optics.

Sable planted both palms on the cool glass behind her hips, arched her spine like a drawn longbow, and dragged the cream silk higher.

Slow. Torturously slow.

The fabric gathered in thick, luxurious folds at her waist, unveiling long, trembling thighs—porcelain skin flushed deep rose, already glistening with a slick sheen of arousal that caught the amber light like someone had drizzled her in liquid diamonds.

Black lace panties came into view—filmy, sheer, utterly fucking drenched.

The crotch was glued to her swollen mound, outlining every obscene detail in high definition: puffy outer lips parted just enough to show the dark, glistening shadow of her slit, clit visibly engorged and throbbing against the lace like it had its own pulse, a thick dark wet spot blooming wider with every shallow, shaky breath.

She shifted—thighs parting wider—and the panties pulled taut. Lace stretched thin enough that I could see the exact shape of her inner petals: dark pink, swollen, slick, quivering, begging to be peeled open.

I dropped to my knees between her spread legs like a man finally finding religion... she knew how much a worshipper I was when it came to beauties’s bodies... especially lower part.

Her pussy to be specific.

Her breath hitched—sharp, almost a sob at the anticipation alone.

I started low—soft, reverent kiss pressed to the tender inside of her knee... she shivered. Her body really shook from that only contact.

Her skin was fever-hot, silky, trembling under my lips. Moved higher—open-mouthed, sucking lightly, tasting salt and heat and the faint floral trace of whatever overpriced lotion she wore.

She shivered again, violently, thighs quivering on either side of my head like live wires about to snap.

Kissed again—higher—licked a slow, wet stripe along the soft inner curve, then sucked harder, pulling flesh into my mouth until it bloomed dark rose against pale skin.

Each mark felt like a signature; each pull dragged a fresh, helpless tremor out of her.

She moaned—low, broken "mmphhh..."—fingers diving into my hair, clutching tight at the roots, yanking me closer like she needed my mouth branded into her DNA.

I went higher. Teeth grazed the sensitive crease where thigh met groin. I sucked—hard—drawing a deep, possessive oval into the tender skin that would bruise purple by morning, a secret brand she’d feel every time she crossed her legs in a boardroom tomorrow.

Her hips jerked forward on pure reflex as if to fuck my face; the scent of her pussy slammed into me harder than I was already had—sharp, musky, heady, thick with raw feminine need. I did not resist the smell of her already ripe pussy... I inhaled deep—nose brushing soaked lace—and groaned low against her thigh.

The smell was obscene—sweet-tangy arousal, hot and fertile, so potent my cock throbbed painfully against my zipper, pre-cum already leaking like I was the one being edged.

"Nnghhh... fuckkk..." —voice cracking raw, hips rolling shamelessly forward. Her fingers tightened brutally in my hair—yanking, desperate—pulling my face flush against her covered cunt as she rolled her hips with my mouth and nose on her pussy.

I opened wide, sucked the drenched lace and swollen lips into my mouth at once—fabric and flesh together—tongue flattening hard against the outline of her clit through the thin barrier.

She bucked—"Hahhh... ahhhh...!"—moans splintering into high, needy whimpers that bounced faintly off the glass walls.

Black panties stretched to breaking across her mound—lace so wet it was basically transparent, clinging to every fold. I could see everything: puffy outer lips parted wide, inner petals dark pink and swollen, glistening, clit pulsing visibly against the fabric like a second heartbeat.

A fresh bead of slick welled up and soaked through right in front of my eyes.

I squeezed—hard—kneading upward until my palms cupped the bare undersides of her ass cheeks. No fabric.

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