Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 24

Chapter 24: Taking Control: My First Time 4(R-18)

The nerves were still there—but buried under something else. A heat crawling under my skin like liquid confidence. Years of curiosity, late‑night research, half-formed fantasies and dreams that never made sense until this exact moment—now flooding me all at once.

All those hours of "educational research" were finally about to pay off.

And suddenly, I wasn’t just letting this happen to me.

I took control.

My hands seized her hips, fingers sinking in with a grip I didn’t know I had. My eyes locked on hers—glassy, stunned, still trying to process how completely filled she was.

Then I thrust up.

Hard.

She yelped—her mouth falling open, her whole body jolting like I’d sent an electric current through her spine.

"Peter—"

Another thrust. Deep. Precise. Not reckless, not rushed—just deliberate, like I knew what her body needed before she did.

And holy fuck, I was actually making her lose control.

Her eyes rolled back in a way that should’ve probably come with a warning label.

She moaned—loud enough that her neighbors were probably googling my name—and that was when it hit me:I could destroy her composure.

I had her. Right there. Wrapped around me tighter than anything I’d ever imagined.And she couldn’t stop shaking.

"You wanted all of it," I muttered, breath ragged, pulling out until just the tip remained—then driving back in with terrifying precision. "You’re gonna take what you can handle."

"Oh, fuck—"

She couldn’t form complete sentences anymore.

And I was the reason.

She clawed at my chest as I established a rhythm—slow, deep strokes that hit her at angles she clearly hadn’t prepared for. Her legs tightened around me, her hips ground desperately, but I didn’t let her control the pace anymore.

It was mine now.

Her moans turned messy—broken and desperate. Her words dissolved into pure sound.

All that internet research was finally paying dividends.

I remembered everything I’d absorbed from countless hours of "educational content"—hip angles, rhythm changes, the art of pulling out slow and going back in with purpose. I did all of it—every technique, every angle that had looked effective.

Her hands scrambled for purchase—my chest, the sheets, her own thighs—anything to anchor her as I set the rhythm. Controlled. Deep. Unrelenting.

Her moans turned messy. Raw. Like her voice couldn’t decide between crying out in pleasure or begging for mercy.

I leaned up, one hand still gripping her waist, the other sliding up to her breast, and when my palm cupped it—soft and flushed and bouncing gently with every thrust—it was like touching something sacred. My thumb brushed her nipple, and the way her body twitched in response sent a surge through me I couldn’t explain. Not with words. Not with logic.

I lowered my head—didn’t even think. I just acted. Instinct took the wheel.

My mouth closed over her nipple and I sucked. Slow at first. Gentle. Like I was tasting something forbidden. My tongue flicked over the tip and her entire spine arched like I’d lit a fuse.

"Oh my God, Peter—~~"

Her voice broke.

Her hands flew to the back of my head, holding me there like she needed my mouth on her. Like she couldn’t survive if I stopped. I rolled her nipple between my lips, sucked again, harder this time, and her body clamped down around me so violently I thought I might come right then and there.

She was unraveling. Because of me.

Because I had her breast in my mouth and most of my cock buried inside her at once, and I couldn’t tell anymore where I ended and she began.

I switched sides—kissed across her chest, lips and tongue dragging heat across her flushed skin—then took her other nipple in my mouth and sucked again like I knew what I was doing.

Truth? I had no clue.

I was faking it. Riding pure instinct and porn memory and desperation to please.

But judging by the gasping, cursing, half-moan, half-sob sounds pouring out of Madison Torres’s mouth... I was nailing it.

She looked down at me, eyes wide and wet and dazed. Like she couldn’t believe the virgin nerd had just taken control of her body like this.

Like I was rewriting her understanding of who I really was.

And maybe... I was.

And her body responded like I had just discovered the cheat codes to human pleasure.

"Jesus, Peter—" she gasped. "You’re actually fucking me."

Her voice cracked on the word fucking, like she couldn’t believe it was real—like the whole idea of me, the so-called virgin nerd, turning into this version of myself in front of her very eyes was short-circuiting every expectation she’d ever had.

She arched into me, body spasming under mine.

"Oh my God, don’t stop," she whispered, voice broken and reverent like prayer. "Please don’t fucking stop."

"Fuck, Peter... You feel so good."

Because for the first time in my entire life... I wasn’t imagining it.

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