Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 517

Chapter 517: The Connection (R-18)

She couldn’t find the words. Didn’t know how to ask for what she needed, her heart racing, vulnerability raw.

"You want to be in control," Eros said, understanding immediately, voice gentle, knowing. "You want to set the pace. Make it about what you need instead of what I give you."

Patricia nodded, tears pricking again, relief flooding her. "Is that okay?"

"Patricia." He cupped her face again, palms tender, eyes intense. "You can have anything you want from me. Anything. Always."

She kissed him then—soft, tender. Not demanding. Just grateful, lips brushing, a slow, loving press, tongues touching lightly, a shared breath.

When she pulled back, she looked down between them. His cock stood proud—thick and hard and absolutely massive, veins pulsing, head dark and swollen, glistening with their earlier mess. Even after everything, the sight of it made her breath catch, her pussy throbbing, awe and need mingling.

She reached down with both hands. Her small, delicate hands looked almost ridiculous next to his size, fingers trembling slightly.

Her fingers couldn’t come close to wrapping around his girth. She placed both palms on either side of his shaft, trying to encompass him, and there was still so much cock visible above and below her hands, the sheer size overwhelming.

"You’re so big," she whispered, almost in awe, eyes wide, voice reverent. "Look at my hands. They can’t even..."

She wrapped her right hand around him—or tried to. Her fingers didn’t meet. Not even close. The gap between her fingertips and thumb was at least an inch. Maybe more. His girth was just too much for her small hand, hot, throbbing, velvet over steel.

She stroked upward slowly. Felt the heat of him, scalding, felt the veins—thick, raised lines running along his shaft that pulsed visibly with his heartbeat. She traced one with her finger—followed it from base to tip, feeling how it stood out from his skin, how it throbbed under her touch, a living pulse.

"These veins," she breathed, voice hushed, mesmerized. "I can feel them. Feel your pulse through them."

Her other hand joined. Both small hands working together, stroking his length. It took both hands stacked on top of each other to cover him from base to tip. And even then, the head protruded above, dark and swollen and glistening with precum that leaked from the slit, a slow, shiny bead.

She traced the head with her fingertips. Felt the flared ridge—pronounced, defined, the part that caught on her entrance, that dragged against her inner walls. Circled it with one finger, feeling the texture difference between the head and shaft, smooth, slick, sensitive.

"You’re beautiful," she whispered, voice soft, awed. "Your cock is beautiful."

She stroked him slowly. Both hands moving together—up, feeling every vein, every ridge, every throb. Down, feeling the heat intensify near the base. Up again, watching precum leak from the tip. Down, feeling him throb harder in her grip, his breath hitching.

Eros groaned softly, voice low, strained. "Patricia. Your hands. The way you’re touching me. It’s—"

"Shh," she said softly, voice gentle, commanding. "Let me. Let me just... feel you."

She stroked for another minute. Learning him. Memorizing him. Feeling how he responded to her touch—how he throbbed when she squeezed gently, how more precum leaked when she circled the head, how his breathing changed when she traced the thick vein running along the underside, his hips twitching faintly.

Then she lifted herself. Positioned him at her entrance—using both hands to hold his cock steady because he was too thick to control with one, her fingers slick with precum, her pussy quivering.

The head pressed against her opening. Hot. Hard. Impossibly large, her lips parting, already swollen, still leaking cum.

She looked into his eyes, glowing softly, filled with love.

And slowly—so slowly—began to sink down.

The stretch was immediate. Intense. Her entrance spreading impossibly wide around just the head, bruised lips flaring, pink walls flashing, a soft, wet schlick. She watched his face as she took him—watched his eyes darken, his jaw clench, his breath catch, restraint etched in every line.

"Oh god," she gasped as the head popped inside, her pussy clamping, walls fluttering. "You’re splitting me open."

"Take your time," Eros murmured, his hands on her hips—not pushing, not pulling, just there, supporting, warm. "Feel every inch." His voice a tender anchor, guiding her, loving her.

She sank down another inch. Felt the first thick vein drag against her inner walls, raised, prominent, a textured ridge scraping deliciously, creating friction that made her gasp, a sharp inhale, her pussy fluttering. Another inch. Another vein, pulsing, hot, her pussy stretching wider to accommodate his girth, lips splayed, pink walls yielding, a soft, wet schlick echoing.

"Oh fuck," Patricia breathed, voice trembling, eyes wide. "You’re so deep. So—I can feel you everywhere."

"Look at us," Eros said softly, voice reverent, eyes locked on their union. "Look at how perfectly you take me. How your pussy wraps around my cock."

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