Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs - Chapter 537

Chapter 537: Her Apartment (R-18)
Her palms roamed, greedy, worshipful. Over my pecs, nails scraping the ridges, pinching my nipples hard enough to make me hiss.

Down the ladder of my abs—one, two, three… eight—counting under her breath like a prayer she didn’t believe in until now, her fingers trembling with every cut line, every vein, every inch of skin that burned under her touch.

Her mouth followed, open and starving, tongue lashing across my chest, sucking bruises into my skin, teeth sinking in just enough to mark me, to claim me back.

I carried her through the apartment, past the silent monuments to her perfect life—Berkeley, Stanford Law, framed like trophies she no longer gave a shit about, the glass cool under my shoulder as I slammed her against the wall for a second, grinding my cock against her clit through the soaked lace until she sobbed my name.

Kicked her bedroom door so hard it bounced off the wall with a bang that echoed like a gunshot.

Dropped her on the edge of the bed.

She attacked my belt like a woman possessed, fingers shaking, breath hitching, nails scraping my skin as she yanked it open. The leather whipped free with a crack, and she ripped my jeans down, my cock springing free—giant, veined, leaking, slapping against her cheek with a wet thud.

I knelt. Took my time with her heels—unstrapped one, let my thumb press into the arch of her foot, digging deep. She jolted like I’d shoved my tongue inside her, a sharp cry tearing from her throat.

“Jesus—!”

Kissed the inside of her ankle. Dragged my mouth up her calf, teeth grazing, tasting salt and want and the tremor of her skin. Every inch I claimed made her thighs quake harder, made her breath come in sharp, desperate gasps that tasted like surrender.

When I reached the soft skin of her inner thigh and sucked—hard, wet, claiming—she nearly levitated off the mattress, a broken scream ripping from her throat.

“Please—please—”

I looked up from between her legs, met her wild eyes, and hooked my fingers in black lace. Peeled her panties down slow, watching her face fracture with every inch revealed. She was bare, glistening, swollen—like her body had been waiting years for this exact moment, her cunt pulsing, dripping, begging.

I stood. Unclasped her bra with a flick. Let it fall.

And forgot how to breathe.

Heavy, perfect tits—dark nipples begging for my teeth, leaking faintly with her arousal. The elegant line of her her ribcage flaring into hips I was going to bruise purple. Skin like molten honey under the low light.

Every erogenous zone I’d mapped earlier now blazing white-hot, screaming for me.

“You’re not human,” she accused, voice shredded, lunging forward to bite my neck, my collarbone, licking the marks she left, tasting me like I was salvation. “No one feels like this. No one does this to me.”

“I’m whatever you need me to be tonight.”

I stripped the rest—jeans, briefs—let her look her fill.

Her gaze dropped and her breath stopped entirely.

“Holy… that’s—fuck.” Her hand hovered, afraid to touch. “That’s not—seventeen-year-olds don’t—Jesus, that’s obscene.”

“Still breathing?” I stepped closer, let the weight of my cock brush her thigh. She shuddered so hard the bed creaked.

“You’re going to split me in half,” she whispered, but her legs were already spreading wider, knees falling open like her body had seceded from her brain. “You’re going to wreck me and I’m going to let you.”

I crawled over her, caged her in. Pinned her wrists above her head with one hand. The other traced down her sternum, between her breasts, over her trembling stomach—slow, deliberate—until my fingers found slick, molten heat.

She arched violently, a choked sob tearing out of her.

“Priya.” I circled her clit once, feather-light. Her hips bucked like I’d shocked her. “Look at me.”

Her eyes snapped open—black, fathomless, terrified and ravenous.

“Tell me what you need.”

“You,” she said, voice cracking wide open. “I need you inside me before I lose my fucking mind. I don’t care that it’s wrong. I don’t care that I’ll hate myself tomorrow. I need it—need you—right now.”

I leaned down, let my mouth brush hers, let her feel me—hard, hot, aching—lined up against her entrance.

“Last chance to be the good girl, Priya.”

She answered by slamming her hips up, trying to take me herself, a desperate, frustrated whine ripping from her throat when I held back.

“Don’t you fucking stop,” she snarled, nails digging into my shoulders hard enough to draw blood. “Ruin me. Make me forget every rule I ever followed. Make me yours.”

So, I did.

One brutal thrust and I was ready to bury myself into her pussy.

I stopped the motion the instant the head of my cock kissed her entrance, letting her feel the weight of what was coming.

Her pussy lips parted around me—swollen, glistening, pink and slick with the thick cream of her own need.

The moonlight caught every detail: the way her folds quivered, the way her clit throbbed—fat, hood pulled back, glistening like a pearl soaked in sin. A single strand of her arousal stretched from her hole to the sheet beneath her, snapping when she shifted, the scent of her musk flooding the room—raw, sweet, desperate.

I pushed—slow, merciless, watching her cunt stretch around the head, lips flaring wide, clinging to every ridge, every vein, sucking me in like they were starved.

The first inch disappeared with a wet pop, her walls fluttering, clenching in panic and greed. She was tight—impossibly tight, velvet heat gripping me like a fist, milking me before I’d even given her half.

Her back bowed off the bed, a silent scream tearing from her throat as I fed her the next inch, then the next, her pussy stretching, burning, taking me like it had been made for this sin. Her juices gushed, coating my shaft in scalding slick, dripping down my balls, pooling beneath her ass.

The wetness was obscene—thick, creamy, foaming at the seal where my cock split her open.

When I finally slammed home—one savage thrust to the root—her scream was pure surrender, raw and animal and shattered.

“AHHHHHH~~~~” She cried.

Her pussy clamped down so hard I saw stars, walls spasming, rippling, milking every inch of my giant cock like it was trying to keep me forever. Her legs locked around my waist, heels digging into my back, thighs trembling so violently the bed shook.

“OOH. YOU’RE RUINING ME, AHHH~”

I pulled back—slow, torturous—watching her lips cling to my shaft, stretching outward in a lewd, glistening pout, refusing to release even a fraction.

Her cunt gaped for a heartbeat—pink, ruined, dripping—before I slammed back in, balls slapping her ass with a wet smack that echoed like a gunshot. Her pussy squelched, foamed, gushed—mother-juice spraying with every thrust, coating my cock, my balls, the sheets in sticky, filthy rivers.

“YES. YESSHH. YESSSSSHH~~~”

I was going to fuck her like the world’s ending—like the age on my driver’s license didn’t exist, like her Stanford degree was ash, like the only truth left was the way her body shattered around me again and again and again, crying my name like a prayer she’d never unlearn, her pussy clenching, milking, ruining itself on my cock, ruined for anyone else, forever.