Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs - Chapter 320

Chapter 320: Overlord (R-18)
The sanctuary held its breath—a cathedral of bound witnesses, sweat-slick skin, and the thick perfume of sex and vanilla. Vivienne lay pinned against the leather sofa, her cunt dripping ice water, chocolate, and violet arousal. My hands clamped onto her hips, thumbs pressing into the rope-burned hollows below her navel.

Her emerald eyes, wide and ruined, locked onto mine as I positioned the flared head of my cock against her soaked entrance.

The broad crown pressed against her folds—slick, swollen flesh parting like velvet curtains. I felt the resistance: a tight, heat-sealed ring of muscle guarding her core. With a slow grind of my hips, I pushed. Her cunt yielded—not gently, but with a viscous squelch as ice water and glistening chocolate syrup lubricated the invasion.

Her inner lips clung to the rim, dragging outward as the thick vein-ridged shaft sank inch by punishing inch.

“FUCK—EROS!” Her scream ripped through the silence, spine bowing off the leather. I watched the flared head disappear inside her, followed by the thick stem, veins pulsing visibly against her stretched walls.

When I finally buried myself to the half of my cock, my balls slapped against the soaked cleft of her ass—WET. Heavy. Full. Her cunt clamped around me like a furnace-lined fist, fluttering as it adjusted to the brutal stretch.

I anchored myself—feet planted, thighs tensed, glutes flexing like coiled steel. My hips locked into a pelvic tilt that angled every thrust against the front wall of her cunt. I pulled back slowly, savoring the drag: inner walls suctioning around my shaft, chocolate smearing in glossy rings, violet release gushing down my length.

Then I drove—a piston-snap of hips that buried me balls-deep.

Slap.

Flesh collided. Her breasts heaved. Slap. The leather groaned beneath us. Slap. The sound of my balls hitting her soaked ass echoed through the sanctuary, met by ragged gasps from the bound women watching.

I found a rhythm…

Short, grinding strokes—pelvis grinding against her clit, each rotation making her whimper.

Deep, full-length plunges—withdrawing until only the head remained kissed by her entrance, then slamming home hard enough to shake the sofa frame

Hip-rolls—corkscrewing motions that explored every molten inch of her

Her body responded in violent beauty. Thighs trembled. Calf muscles clenched. Toes curled. With each thrust, her cunt flooded—cool violet release gushing around my cock, mixing with ice water and chocolate on the leather below.

My hands never stilled.

One slid up her sweat-slick flank, fingers digging into the soft flesh above her hipbone, anchoring her for each thrust

The other crushed her breast, thumb flicking the rigid nipple—hard, slick, flushed deep rose

Palm flattened against her lower belly, pressing down so she felt every ridge of my cock through her abdominal wall

Her hands clawed desperately:

Nails raked my shoulders, leaving fiery trails

Fingers tangled in the ropes binding her wrists, knuckles white. One hand flew to her own throat, grasping desperately as if to steady herself against the oblivion flooding her senses

Seven bound women watched—transfixed. Their reactions painted the periphery:

Anastasia’s lips parted, thighs clenched, ice water trickling down her own inner thighs

Celeste’s eyes glazed, honey-mint scent thickening as she rocked minutely against her bonds

Gabrielle… her muscles coiled like a predator watching, chocolate smears glistening on her bronze skin

I could tell Sophia’s mind had shattered, lips mouthing silent calculations erased by sensation

Ashby: Tears cutting paths through honey on her cheeks, cunt visibly pulsing

as for Madison & Amanda their tongues darted over lips, hips grinding subtly against restraints, copper-ash scent sharp as they watched

The air became a living entity:

Wet slap-slap-slap of flesh, leather groaning, the schlick of my cock churning her release, her whimpers rising to screams. Vanilla deepened to primal musk, chocolate melting like incense, violet sweetness blooming metallic

Sweat-slick skin sliding, rope burns rubbing raw, ice water trickling, syrup creating sticky friction. Chocolate-smeared thighs shaking, veins standing out on my cock as it pistoned, violet release gushing in waves, bodies writhing in peripheral vision.

I leaned over her, my chest against her, sweat dripping between us. Our breaths mingled—hot, ragged, tasting of salt and ozone. My hips locked into a punishing rhythm, grinding deep, then withdrawing to slam home with devastating force.

“You’re splitting me—” she gasped against my mouth. “Burning—freezing—”

My hand flew to her throat—not choking, but claiming. Pulse raced under my thumb.

I slammed into her one last time—HARD.

“YESSSS—!”

Her detonation was apocalyptic. Cunt muscles crushed around me like a vise, milking, pulsing, flooding. Violet release erupted—a tidal wave of cool ecstasy gushing over my cock, soaking the leather beneath her in a dark, glistening lake.

Her eyes rolled back, showing only black water beneath emerald. Body seized. Ropes bit deep.

I held still inside her—buried to the root—feeling her walls flutter like hummingbird wings around me. Sweat slicked our skin. Chocolate, sweat, and violet release mingled on our thighs. The sanctuary reeked of conquest.

I pressed my forehead to her, feeling her final, weak convulsions. “Mine to ruin,” I whispered.

“Ruin me forever,” she breathed, ruined eyes pleading. “Anchor me in the fire…”

I smiled. And drove my cock deep once more—locking inside her broken, beautiful ruin.

*

One hour later, the sanctuary had thickened with the scent of violet release and vanilla musk as I withdrew from Vivienne’s ruined cunt—schlick-pop as her swollen lips clung desperately to my retreating shaft, leaving it glistening with ice water, chocolate, and traces of her essence.

Her body went limp on the leather, thighs quivering, emerald eyes glazed black where only shattered pupils remained. Sweat-dampened ropes bit deeper into her wrists with each ragged breath.

My muscle coiled, tendons snapped tight. I spun, not walking, but hunting. My hand shot out like a striking serpent, fingers tangling in Celeste’s sweat-slicked blonde hair at the nape. I called onto her—not asking, taking—dragging her off her position before the altar with a gasp torn from her throat.

She stumbled, rose-gold honey still trickling down her inner thighs, mint leaves crushed and clinging to her skin like green wounds.

Celeste was the masochist type.

I sent her forward over the armrest of the L-shaped sofa, spine bowing violently, palms slapping down on sweat-drenched leather to catch herself. Thwack. The sound echoed like a gunshot. Before she could react, Vivienne was hauled up beside her—no gentle touch, but a grip like iron on her chocolate-smeared hips, forcing her down next to Celeste.

Two bodies bent in parallel submission, asses high and exposed, cunts gleaming under the firelight. Celeste’s rose-oil slicked entrance fluttering, Vivienne’s violet-drenched folds still swollen and pulsing from my assault.