Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs - Chapter 382

Chapter 382: Sarah Wants (R-18)
It started fiercely, a collision of suppressed longing and system-fueled hunger. My lips claimed hers, demanding, insistent.

Sarah responded with a startled whimper, her hands flying up to clutch at my shoulders, uncertain whether to push me away or pull me closer. The kiss was deep, searching, bypassing tentative exploration for raw intimacy. I tasted the mint of her toothpaste, the unique flavor that was Sarah.

My tongue swept past her lips, meeting hers, tangling in a dance that was part battle, part surrender.

Her initial uncertainty melted beneath the onslaught, replaced by a burgeoning, desperate need. Her nails dug into my shoulders through my shirt. The kiss stretched, long and thorough, a slow, deep drowning. It wasn’t just lips and tongues; it was the shared breath, the frantic press of bodies, the unvoiced confessions pouring into it.

This was the kiss she’d waited for, the one that acknowledged the forbidden current crackling between them for years.

My hands roamed, sliding up her sides, thumbs brushing the sensitive undersides of her breasts through the sheer robe, feeling their weight, their heat. Her hands weren’t idle; they slid up my neck, fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer, deeper, her body arching instinctively towards mine.

I could feel the frantic beat of her heart against my chest, feel the heat radiating from her core, inches away from mine. The counter was hard beneath her, but she seemed anchored only by me, by the kiss that stole breath and reason.

The Taboo Aura flared, a wildfire consuming restraint. The sheer robe, the damp skin, the frantic hands, the desperate kiss – it was all fuel. The embrace in the kitchen, the whispered question, the sudden lift onto the counter… it felt like the world narrowing down to this moment, to her.

The day had careened from madness to intimacy, from public frenzy to this unbearable private tension.

‘Now Sarah’s turn, huh?’ The thought echoed through the haze of sensation as I kissed her, deep and long, my hands finding the firm curve of her ass beneath the robe, pulling her tighter against me, sealing the promise of the kiss with the undeniable pressure of our bodies aligned. The twins loved him.

Emma had crossed the boundary. And now, standing between Sarah’s thighs on the kitchen counter, the taste of her desperation on my lips, the system burning in my veins… the question wasn’t if. It was when.

Sarah trembled against me on the counter, her legs instinctively widening further as I stepped deeper into the cradle of her hips. The kiss broke, both of us gasping, foreheads resting together.

Her eyes were dark pools, wide with a mixture of shock, terror, and blazing want. The sheer robe gaped open where I’d pulled her, revealing the smooth expanse of her inner thighs, the black triangle of her panties stark against her pale skin, damp already at the center.

My hands remained on her ass, fingers digging into the firm, lush curves through the robe.

“Peter,” she breathed, the name a plea, a question, a surrender all at once. Her fingers were still tangled in my hair, clenching and releasing rhythmically. “I… I didn’t meant to…”

Didn’t mean to what? Want me? Ask? Kiss me back like her life depended on it?

“Don’t,” I whispered, my lips brushing hers again, softer this time, coaxing. “Don’t say didn’t mean to.” I tilted my head, trailing kisses along her jawline, feeling the delicate flutter of her pulse beneath my lips.

Her head lolled back, exposing the long, graceful line of her throat, a silent invitation. “Tell me what you do mean, Sarah.”

She shuddered as my lips found the sensitive spot just below her ear. “I… I meant to ask,” she gasped, her voice trembling. Her hands slid from my hair down my back, clutching desperately at my shoulders. “About… them. About… how it felt.”

Her hips gave a small, involuntary roll forward, seeking friction against the hard ridge of my cock separated only by thin layers of fabric. The contact drew a sharp hiss from us both. “But… not just them. I wanted… I wanted to…”

My hands slid up her sides beneath the sheer robe, thumbs tracing the delicate ridge of her ribs. The sensation was revelation. Her skin wasn’t just skin; it was warm silk over toned muscle, soft yet resilient, humming with a life-force that resonated deep in my bones.

It’s different. I realized dazedly. Not like Emma’s fiery suppleness or Linda’s practiced curves. Sarah’s body feels both achingly familiar and terrifyingly new—like discovering a hidden river in a valley I’d mapped my whole life.

Sarah gasped as my thumbs brushed the underside of her breasts. “Oh! Peter…” The sound was raw, shocked—a moan torn from the core of her being. Her fingers, tangled in my hair, clenched spasmodically.

Her eyes, dark and wide, held mine, reflecting the same dawning awe: she was feeling it too—the shock of recognizing a brother’s body as the source of a consuming, forbidden heat.

“Wanted to know about Emma?” I finished for her, my voice rough. My hands slid from her ass, moving slowly upwards, tracing the dip of her waist, the flare of her ribcage beneath the sheer robe. I could feel the rapid rise and fall of her breathing.

My thumbs skimmed the soft undersides of her breasts, teasing the sensitive skin where they met her ribcage. She gasped, arching into the touch. “Or wanted to know for yourself?”

“Both,” she choked out, her honesty raw and disarming. Her nails bit into my shoulders. “God, Peter… both.”

Her eyes were glazed, fixed on my face, watching my every reaction as my thumbs drifted higher, circling the base of her breasts, avoiding the straining peaks for now, building the tension. The robe’s thin fabric did nothing to hide the hardened points of her nipples, dark shadows begging for attention.

“Did you feel jealous?” I murmured, bending to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone. My tongue flicked out, tasting the clean, damp salt of her skin. “Or just… curious?” My hands continued their slow ascent, thumbs finally brushing the sides of her nipples through the silk.

Sarah cried out, a sound muffled as she bit her lower lip. Her body arched off the counter, pushing her breasts more firmly into my hands. “Curious,” she managed, the word ragged. “So… so curious… and… jealous isn’t… isn’t the right word…” She struggled to articulate, lost in the sensations. “It’s… it’s like… like watching something… incredible… and burning… because… because…”

She couldn’t finish, the words dissolving into another soft whimper as I rolled her nipples gently between my thumbs and forefingers, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core.

“Burning because you wanted it too?” I supplied, my voice thick with lust and understanding. I shifted my attention fully to her breasts, cupping their weight through the robe, feeling their soft resilience.

The sheer silk was tormenting, a barrier I needed to breach. My fingers found the belt of her robe, tugging gently at the loose knot. “Burned that it was Emma first?”

“Yesss,” she hissed, the admission tearing free. “Yes… and no… it’s always… always been you, Peter…”