Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 238

Chapter 238: Slow Dance in Amanda’s Pussy (R-18)

The suite smelled of sweat and Amanda’s release – thick, musky, intimate. She lay sprawled beside me, limp, trembling, a sheen of perspiration catching the low light like scattered diamonds. Her chest heaved, each ragged breath a testament to the ruin I’d wrought between her thighs.

The rawness of the 69 still hung in the air, the phantom ache of her throat around me, the taste of her gushing on my chin. But now, in the sudden quiet after the storm, something else stirred. Her eyes, when they fluttered open, weren’t glazed with shock or surrender. They held something deeper, a dawning wonder, a vulnerability that cut through the predatory haze still clinging to me.

This wasn’t just another conquest gasping on Harold’s sheets. This was Amanda, irrevocably altered, waiting.

I rolled onto my side, facing her. The violence that had fueled me moments before receded like a tide, leaving behind a strange stillness. My fingers, still slick with her, traced a line from her collarbone down the valley between her breasts. The touch wasn’t possessive now, not in the bruising way of before.

It was... reverent.

Her skin was impossibly soft, flushed warm, and she shivered under the light graze, a soft sigh escaping her lips instead of a gasp. I leaned in, my voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the silk beneath us and into her very bones.

"Look at you," I murmured, the words warm against the sensitive shell of her ear. "Shattered. Beautiful. All mine." My lips brushed her neck, just below her jaw, feather-light. "Harold saw a trophy, Amanda. I see a goddess finally remembering her own fire."

She trembled again, a different kind of tremor this time, softer, deeper. I felt it resonate through her entire body, a hum of awakening. My hands slid under her back, strong but gentle now, lifting her effortlessly.

She came willingly, boneless, trusting, moulding herself against me as I carried her the short distance to the head of the bed.

I settled us amidst the crushed rose petals, leaning back against the piled pillows, drawing her onto my lap, her legs straddling mine, her body nestled against my chest. The position was intimate, vulnerable, her body cradled by mine.

The sheer size of me pressed against the small of her back was undeniable, a thick, heavy presence even in this tender moment. I felt her shift slightly, a quick intake of breath as she became supremely aware of the hard length nestled against her skin.

Her hand, tentative at first, slid down her own stomach, over the curve of her hip, then back, seeking. Her fingers brushed the thick shaft, explored its girth, traced the prominent vein pulsing along its underside. A soft, almost awed sound escaped her lips.

"Eros..." It wasn’t a plea, not anymore. It was recognition. Worship. Her other hand joined the first, both small palms wrapping around my cock, barely holding the weight and hardness, fingers stroking the silken skin stretched taut over the steel beneath.

She held the weight, the heat, the undeniable reality of me, measuring the impossible promise against her own readiness.

"Easy, goddess," I breathed into her hair, my hands coming to rest on her hips, holding her steady, grounding her. My thumbs stroked the soft curve where her waist met her flank. "Take your time. It’s yours now. All of it."

I nuzzled her neck, inhaling the scent of her –sweat, sex, and something uniquely Amanda that made my gut clench with a fiercer, more profound hunger than anything I’d felt before. This wasn’t just about possession. Not now.

It was about the connection forged in the crucible of her surrender. "You decide," I whispered, the promise thick in my voice. "Every inch. Every second."

Her answer was the slow, deliberate lift of her hips. She rose up on her knees, bracing herself with her hands pressed flat against my lower abdomen, fingers splayed wide. The position arched her spine beautifully, thrusting her breasts forward, presenting the flushed, sensitive peaks to the dim light.

She shifted forward, aligning the broad, flared head of my cock with the slick, swollen entrance of her cunt. The mere contact made her gasp, her body jerking slightly. She was still so sensitive, the recent orgasms leaving every nerve endings raw and exposed. But she didn’t pull away.

She hovered, the thick crown pressed against her opening, a thick promise and a delicious tease. Her eyes met mine over her shoulder, dark pools of apprehension and fierce determination.

Then, slowly, so slowly it was almost agony, she began to lower herself. The broad head stretched her impossibly wide.

"HAAAAAaaaaahhhh~~~ Eros..." A choked cry tore from her throat, her head falling back against my shoulder, her entire body trembling with the effort, the overwhelming sensation of being filled beyond anything she’d ever known. Inch by agonizing inch, she descended.

I watched, mesmerized, as the half of the thick shaft disappeared into her body, her slick folds clinging to the veined length, swallowing me half-deep. The friction was incredible, a velvet slickness that gripped me like a fist.

I could feel every inner ridge, every flutter of her overwhelmed walls as she took more and more. Her hands pressed harder against my stomach, her knuckles white, her back arched deeper, a perfect bowstrung tension.

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