Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs - Chapter 371

Chapter 371: Love and Devotion
I moved

Not the careful strokes of before. This was possession, but a possession born of overwhelming love. A slow, grinding withdrawal, almost all the way out, letting her feel every thick inch dragging against her hypersensitive flesh. Her breath hitched, a small gasp that was a prayer.

Then I powered back in, deep and hard, burying myself to the hilt in one smooth, relentless thrust. It was a homecoming.

“Fuck!” The guttural roar was torn from me as her body convulsed around me, a perfect, silky sheath accepting me completely. Her cry was sharper this time, higher, laced with shock and a dawning wave of pleasure that warred with the deep, internal ache. It was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard.

“Peter!” My name on her lips was a shattered gasp, a testament to her surrender. Her nails dug deeper into my shoulders, scoring lines of fire that grounded me to this moment, to her.

I set a rhythm. Deep. Deep. Circling my hips at the apex of each thrust, grinding the thick, blunt head of my cock against that spot deep inside that made her whole body seize. I felt it – the subtle shift in pressure, the way her tissues yielded and clenched around my shaft as I rotated, not just testing her, but learning her, memorizing the map of her pleasure, claiming every hidden inch in an act of worship.

My ass flexed with each powerful drive, the muscles coiling and releasing, propelling the punishing depth, but my heart was soaring. The bed groaned under us, a rhythmic protest matching my thrusts.

Wet, slick sounds filled the air – the obscene music of virgin flesh yielding to experienced cock, our bodies speaking a language older than words.

Her moans changed, grew wilder. No longer just gasps or cries, they became continuous, breathy whimpers that climbed in pitch with every deep circle I ground into her, sounds of complete abandon.

“Oh god… oh god… Peter… please…” A high, breathy keen escaped her lips, a sound of pure, unadulterated need that was forged from love and trust. Her body arched off the bed, a desperate, beautiful bow, pressing those gorgeous breasts harder against my chest, offering herself to me completely.

Sweat slicked her skin, the scent of it sharp and primal in the air, letting me slide against her, the friction a delicious, wet torture that drew shuddering moans from us both. My needy, beautiful love.

I shifted my grip, bringing both hands up to cup her face, my thumbs stroking her tear-streaked cheeks, forcing her dazed, tear-bright eyes to meet mine. I needed to see her soul.

“Take it, Emma,” I growled, my voice rough gravel, but my heart was an open wound of love for her. “All of it. This is what you begged for. This is what we were made for.” I drove into her harder, faster, the circle grinding deeper, hitting that spot dead center, punching a sharp cry from her throat. “Tell me who owns this tight little beautiful cunt, dear sis.”

“You!” The word was a scream ripped from her throat, raw and ragged as her body bowed violently, but it was more than an answer; it was a vow. “You do! Oh god, Peter, it’s… it’s too much! Deeeperrr! Please, I can’t…” A choked sob interrupted her plea, a sound of being shattered and remade.

She thrashed beneath me, her legs locking around my waist, pulling me deeper even as her hands pushed weakly at my chest. Contradictory chaos. Her eyes rolled back, unfocused, lost in the overwhelming storm I was creating for her, for us.

“Don’t stop! Please don’t stop! More! Give me more!” she sobbed, the pleas tumbling over each other, desperate and incoherent, a symphony of broken moans and whimpers that told me she was right there with me, lost in our shared world.

The sight of her unraveling for me, the sound of her begging for more of the pleasure only I could give her, the feeling of her virgin pussy clenching and rippling around my relentless cock – it was incendiary. I slammed into her, abandoning the circles for raw, powerful strokes, our bodies meeting in a frantic, loving rhythm.

My hips became a piston, driving deep, pulling out almost fully, then burying myself to the balls in a hard, fast rhythm.

Thwack-thwack-thwack.

The air crackled with the sharp, wet sound of skin slapping against skin, her high, desperate cries, and my own low, guttural grunts of exertion and pure, blissful union.

Her boobs bounced with every jarring thrust, magnificent medium rounds crowned with tight, rosy nipples, already swollen and sensitive from my earlier attention. Sweat beaded between them, trickling down her heaving sternum as she panted my name like a mantra. devotion.

Suddenly, I needed her closer. Needed her weight, her surrender absolute, her heart beating against mine. I wrapped my arms tightly around her sweat-slicked back, rolling us in one powerful movement. She gasped, a sharp, startled sound, clinging to me as the world tilted. Suddenly she was astride me, straddling my lap, my cock still buried deep inside her clenching heat.

Her eyes were wide, startled, drenched with pleasure and tears, her breath coming in ragged, whimpering pants. I couldn’t resist brushing a sweat-dampened strand of hair from her cheek.

“Ride me, Emma,” I commanded, my hands gripping her waist, guiding her. “Show me how much you want it. Show me.”

Her hands braced on my shoulders, legs trembling uncontrollably. She lifted herself slowly, a long, drawn-out whimper escaping her as my length dragged against her sensitive walls. Then she sank down, a slow, hesitant drop that ended in a wet, percussive slap, a sound of total connection.

“Fuck… yes,” I hissed, my head thrown back, a groan rumbling in my chest. “Just like that, my love.” I urged her upward again, then pulled her down hard, controlling the pace, the impact forcing a sharp cry from her lips.

“Faster.” I slapped her ass sharply – a firm, stinging smack on her medium, perfectly rounded cheek. The flesh jiggled enticingly, a perfect peak under my palm, a loving spark to ignite her fire.

She cried out, but the cry held a new note. Need. A guttural, desperate sound. She took over, finding a rhythm, bouncing on my cock with increasing abandon, her gorgeous body moving for me, with me. Her breasts bounced wildly, mesmerizing arcs of pale flesh and deep pink nipples.

I captured them, palming the weight, thumbs flicking and rolling the tight peaks mercilessly. Each tug, each flick, sent her spiraling higher, making her grind down harder onto me with a keening moan that was praise and worship.

“Peter! Oh god Peter! It’s… it’s…” she couldn’t form words, only high, breathless cries, her head thrown back, dark hair clinging to her neck. Her palms pressed flat on my chest for leverage as she rose and fell, faster, harder, taking me as deep as she could, our bodies moving in perfect, chaotic sync.

The sounds were obscene – the wet slap of her ass meeting my thighs on each drop, the slick squelch of her soaking pussy around my thick shaft, her constant, high-pitched moans blending with my deep, rumbling groans. It was our symphony.

I kneaded her bouncing ass, fingers digging into the firm, peaking muscle, spreading her cheeks slightly as she rose, feeling the stretch. My own breath hitched. My other hand continued its assault on her breasts, squeezing, tugging, owning every response. She was lost, a creature of pure sensation riding me, chasing the climax I was building in her with every deep stroke, the climax we were building together.

Her inner muscles began to flutter wildly, a telltale sign, her rhythm growing erratic, her moans dissolving into choked sobs. “Please… Peter… I think… ah… I can’t…”

“Come for me, Emma,” I growled, bucking my hips up to meet her downward plunge, driving my cock impossibly deep, grinding against her cervix. “Scream my name. Let me have it all.”

She detonated. A raw, tearing scream ripped from her throat, her body seizing rigid above me. Her pussy clamped down like a vice, a series of powerful, rhythmic contractions milking my buried cock.

“PETER! OH GOD! PETER!” It was a primal declaration of surrender, a sound ripped from the depths of her soul as the fire consumed her, followed by broken, sobbing gasps of my name. It was everything.

I held her through it, my hands anchoring her, my own guttural groan of satisfaction and love mixing with her cries as my cock pulsed deep inside her pulsing heat. Overwhelmed. Owned. Virginity not just broken, but obliterated, replaced by the raw, messy, beautiful chaos of being thoroughly, completely and lovingly fucked.

And seeing her undone – breasts heaving, ass flushed and marked by my hands, tears and sweat painting her face, her body still quaking with aftershocks – was the most exquisite sight I’d ever known. My goddess, my love, my sister.

My hunger was momentarily sated, but the satisfaction was a deep, primal hum of perfect, unwavering devotion. Mine. Utterly mine. As I was utterly hers. And I was nowhere near finished showing her.