Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs - Chapter 542

Chapter 542: Peter’s Priya (R-18)
It took an hour to diffuse their morning lust but none seemed satisfied.

The emerald silk slid over her skin like liquid sin, catching the morning light and throwing it back in molten flashes.

The dress had been designed by someone who understood exactly how lethal a backless gown could be: from the nape of her neck all the way down to the twin dimples just above the swell of her ass, nothing but smooth honey-brown skin and the elegant sweep of her spine.

The fabric clung to every obscene curve (full, high breasts that didn’t need a bra, a waist he could almost span with both hands, hips that flared dramatically before pouring into long, toned thighs).

The hem stopped mid-thigh, high enough that every time she breathed the silk shifted and threatened to reveal the slick mess still dripping down the inside of her legs from the last hour.

Priya looked like she’d been built for boardrooms and back-room fucking in equal measure.

Thick black waves tumbled halfway down her back, tangled from his fists, a few strands still caught in the spaghetti straps. Her lips were swollen, darker than usual; faint bruises bloomed across her throat and collarbone like someone had painted ownership on her skin.

And those eyes—almost black, sharp enough to cut glass—were hazy now, pupils blown wide with fresh lust.

She was barefoot, legs slightly apart, and when she rolled her shoulders the silk slipped just enough to flash the soft outer curve of one breast, the dark nipple already stiff against the fabric.

Peter came up behind her without a word. One arm locked around her waist, the other hand sliding straight up under the plunging neckline to palm a heavy, bare tit. His cock (still half-hard from the last round) thickened instantly against the cleft of her ass, trapped between silk and skin.

“Tell me about your job,” he murmured, mouth brushing the shell of her ear.

Priya’s laugh came out shaky. “You’re insane.”

His thumb rolled over her nipple, slow, deliberate circles that made her back arch and her thighs clench. “Mob & Dough. The Zenith-Horizon merger. Two hundred million. Tell me.”

His other hand dragged the hem of the dress higher, bunching the silk at her waist until cool air hit her soaked pussy. She was dripping (visibly, shamelessly), cum and her own slick glistening on the inside of her thighs. Two fingers traced her swollen lips, parting them, spreading the mess.

“Peter—”

“Start talking, Priya.” He pushed those two fingers inside her in one smooth glide, curling instantly, stroking that spot that made her knees buckle. “Or I stop.”

“How do you—ah—” One hand slid up. Slow. Over her ribs. Cupped her breast through the dress. Squeezed gently. His thumb finding her nipple through the fabric, circling it. “—know where I work?”

“I paid attention when you told me.” His other hand moved down. Over her stomach, fingers splayed. Lower. “The deal you closed. $200 million. Tell me about it.”

“I can’t think when you’re—”

She moaned, hands flying to the mattress to brace herself as he started fucking her with his fingers, slow, filthy drags that had wet sounds echoing in the quiet room.

“Fuck—”

“Tell me, Priya.” One finger circled her clit. Slow. Deliberate. Light pressure that made her hips jerk.

“What companies?”

He slid two fingers inside her. Not fast—slow, letting her feel every inch. Curled them. Found that spot that made her see stars.

“It was—oh god—Zenith Biotech and Horizon Therapeutics—”

He added a third finger, stretching her open, thumb settling on her clit and rubbing tight, ruthless circles. Her hips jerked back against his hand, chasing more even as her thighs shook.

“Keep going.”

“Peter—”

“Keep talking.” His other hand still on her breast through the opening of her dress. Thumb circling her nipple, matching the rhythm of his fingers inside her. “What did they need?”

“One had—fuck —patents for cancer treatments—the other had distribution networks—Peter please—”

“Please what?” He started moving his fingers. In and out. Slow. Torturously slow. His palm pressing against her clit with each thrust of his fingers.

“I need—”

“You need to finish your story first.” His lips on her neck now. Kissing down to her shoulder. Biting gently. “What did you do?”

“I structured—oh god—IP licensing agreement—” She gasped as he curled his fingers harder, hitting that spot. “—stock swap with cash component—$200 million total—it was my idea—”

Her words dissolved into a sharp cry when he twisted his fingers hard, grinding against her front wall until her pussy fluttered helplessly around him.

“Smart girl,” he growled, pulling his fingers free. She whined at the loss, but then the blunt, slick head of his cock was right there, nudging her entrance, sliding through her folds, coating himself in the mess they’d already made.

He didn’t ask. He just pushed one long, relentless thrust that buried him in a single stroke. Priya’s back bowed, a strangled moan ripping out of her as he bottomed out, thick and burning-hot inside her swollen cunt.

“Hands on the bed,” he ordered, voice rough. “Bend over for me.”

She folded forward instantly, palms sinking into the mattress, ass tilted high, legs spread just enough that he could see everything (her puffy, flushed lips stretched tight around his cock, the way her slick dripped down her thighs in slow, obscene rivulets).

He pulled back until just the head remained, then slammed home again, hard enough that her tits bounced in the silk and the breath punched out of her lungs.

“How long did negotiations take?” he asked, conversational, like he wasn’t balls-deep and splitting her open.

“Six—fuck—six months—”

Another brutal thrust, hips snapping forward, the slap of skin on skin loud in the sunlit room.

“And when it closed?”

“They called me—” She broke off on a sob as he reached around, two fingers finding her clit again, rubbing fast and rough. “Called me the smartest fucking lawyer they’d ever seen—”

He rewarded her with a series of short, vicious thrusts that punched the air from her lungs and had her pussy clenching greedily around him.

“Damn right they did.” His hand left her breast, slid up to fist in her hair, arching her neck back until she was staring at the ceiling, completely open and helpless. “Now come on my cock while you tell me how brilliant you are, Priya.”

He started fucking her in earnest–long, punishing strokes that dragged over every sensitive spot inside her, his fingers relentless on her clit, the other hand pulling her hair just hard enough to sting. The emerald silk was ruined, twisted around her waist, her tits spilling free now, bouncing with every slam of his hips.

She lasted maybe thirty seconds.

Her orgasm hit like a freight train–back arching impossibly, a raw, broken scream tearing from her throat as her cunt clamped down hard, pulsing and gushing around him, soaking his balls and the sheets beneath.

He didn’t stop, just kept driving into her through it, drawing it out until she was shaking and sobbing his name.

***

A/N: I am a bit sick today, if you spot any mistakes please tell me. I wasn’t at my best today guys. I hope I delivered.