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

Chapter 1018: Luna’s Offer, Addiction and Bet

They sat naked on the bench, her back pressed warmly against his chest, his arms wrapped securely around her waist, her legs draped lazily over his. Her skin against his in that heavy, golden post-everything haze where time had politely excused itself and the outside world could go fuck itself for a while.

"That was really beautiful," Luna said. Quiet and honest. "The way you just... anchored me. It wasn’t you conquering me or taming anything. He was pulling me closer in a way I didn’t even know was possible."

Her fingertip traced slow circles on his chest.

"It was softer than our first time. Softer than any soft time you have ever taken me. And you have taken me soft before, but this... I don’t even have a word for it."

He kissed the top of her head and let his lips linger there.

"I just missed your body syncing with mine," he murmured. "Every time I tried to speed up, something in me refused. Like your body was whispering to mine to stay slow... and mine actually listened for once."

She went still for a second. Her finger stopped moving.

"I hope you didn’t hate—"

"Bullshit." She lifted her head sharply, eyes flashing. "I loved it. Gods, Peter, it was so beautiful. The way your hips rolled—your cock just rolled inside me, slow and so deep. Every stroke felt like a long, lazy wave hitting me in my spine, my chest, behind my eyes... I—"

He ruffled her hair with his full palm, messing it up completely and knocking her glasses crooked again.

She sputtered. "Hey—"

"You were about to get poetic."

"I was about to get accurate."

"Same difference with you."

She huffed, left her hair a glorious disaster, and settled back against his chest with a grumble that was ninety percent theater and ten percent real annoyance.

Luna kissed his bare chest then—soft, deliberate—pressing her lips right above his heart and holding them there a beat longer than necessary, like she was checking that the damn thing was still beating exactly the way she wanted it to.

She shifted in his arms, finding an even deeper, more comfortable angle against him, then kissed his lips slow and unhurried, tasting like sex and salt and the two of them melted together.

When she pulled back, she moved to his neck, her mouth tracing the tendon, tongue dragging lightly over his pulse until a shiver rolled through him that he couldn’t hide.

She smiled against his skin—he felt it—and continued downward, kissing across his collarbone and lower, pressing her lips into the ridges of muscle with quiet reverence.

She wasn’t trying to start anything new. She was just... worshipping. In that pure, no-announcement Luna way—honest and focused, aimed straight at whatever part of him she felt like loving right then.

He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes until she kissed them shut somewhere between his neck and sternum.

Now he was just floating, every press of her lips leaving invisible fingerprints on places no one else would ever reach.

She watched him for a long moment. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel her steady, warm gaze.

Something in her chest seemed to settle, like a final piece clicking into place.

She couldn’t really explain how he did it, but he always made a special space for every one of his women.

Or maybe it wasn’t separate rooms at all.

Maybe it was one enormous space inside him made for all his women at once with no seperation.

She wasn’t sure which was more beautiful: having a private, walled-off room in his heart with only her name on the door... or sharing the bigger, open space where the walls were gone, everyone’s love bled into everyone else’s, and the warmth felt too vast for any one person to have created alone.

Luna murmured against his chest, her voice soft and half-asleep. "Yeah... I kinda like the latter better."

He opened one eye and reached up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear with his thumb. "Like what better?"

She hummed and snuggled deeper into him, cheek pressed firmly against his sternum, one arm tightening around his waist as if she could physically prevent him from leaving—even though he had zero intention of moving for the next century.

Luna’s gaze drifted downward, tracing the hard lines of his torso.

Her fingers followed, sliding slowly over his abs, then lower still, brushing teasingly along the thick, heavy length of his cock resting against his thigh.

Even soft, it was unmistakably sinful—long, girthy, and promising, the kind of cock that made rational thought short-circuit.

She bit her lip, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she gave it one lazy, affectionate stroke.

Gods, she thought, the sinful weight of it warm and familiar in her palm. No wonder her body always surrendered so completely. No wonder she could still feel every slow, rolling thrust echoing deep inside her hours later.

"Nothing," she said. "Just thinking."

A comfortable silence settled between them for a few breaths before she tilted her head up. "So...what’s up with my mom?"

"Your mom?"

"She said she’ll stay for one more day. But you’re supposed to go to Paris today night, right?"

He laughed—full, warm, the sound vibrating through both their bodies because she was pressed so tightly against him she felt it in her teeth. In one smooth motion he scooped her up into a princess carry, her legs swinging, her arms instinctively grabbing his neck.

Before she could finish her startled yelp, he was already biting her.

First her shoulder—a soft, deliberate bite that pressed just hard enough to leave the faintest dents in her skin.

Then down across her collarbone, teeth grazing, lips following. When he reached her breast he bit into the soft upper swell with that perfect pressure that lived exactly on the border between pain and pleasure.

"It tickles!" she gasped, giggling and squirming in his arms, her hands pushing weakly at his forehead.

There was no real force behind it—she didn’t actually want him to stop, and they both knew it.

"And you," he said between bites, teeth finding the curve of her other breast and nipping the soft flesh while she twisted and laughed, "you little gremlin—I heard from ARIA that you set your mother up with our private videos and pictures."

Her giggle turned into a full cackle. She threw her head back in his arms and shouted at the ceiling, "ARIA, you traitor!"

He bit her again—this time the underside of her breast, right where the skin was softest. She squealed, kicked her legs, grabbed his hair, and couldn’t stop laughing long enough to form a proper defense.

"Hey—" she managed between giggles and gasps as his teeth grazed her nipple, "hey—Mom hasn’t been fucked in like eighteen years. Maybe more."

He shifted her so her legs wrapped around his waist and she was facing him eye to eye, her arms draped over his shoulders. Both of them were naked and flush against each other in the warm low light.

He kissed her lips—slow, firm, tasting the laughter still lingering there—then pulled back just enough to ask, "So?"

"So," she said, poking his chest with one finger, "I happen to know just someone—" another poke, harder, right at his sternum, "—who’d gladly liberate his own mother-in-law."

She poked him again, grinning now with full teeth, those green eyes sparkling with mischief behind her fogged glasses. "Oh, great High Pope of the Liberation Church. Oh wait—right—you’re a god now. Close to god, anyway."

He laughed.

"What makes you think I’m going to swoop in and liberate her?" he asked, kissing her neck while he spoke—lips finding the sensitive spot below her ear that always made her melt.

She shifted against him so his cock settled right in the slick, warm crease between her thighs. Then she started moving.

Slowly.

One unhurried grind at a time, her hips rolling at a pace that said this wasn’t urgent—this was simply where she lived now.

"Because—mmh—liberation is one thing," he continued, his voice catching as she rolled again and his cock slid through her folds, the heat of her nearly derailing the entire sentence, "but I can’t possibly cover every woman on the planet. Also—"

He kissed her jaw, then her chin, then the corner of her mouth while her hips kept that slow, devastating rhythm. "Who knows? I might be fine with just having her as my mother-in-law. Black is the new yellow."

"Bullshit," Luna said immediately, still grinding, still smiling, completely unbothered by the fact that she was negotiating while slowly riding the thick length of his cock like it was a perfectly normal Sunday afternoon activity.

"Okay. Tell me. Are you gonna do it or not?" She leaned back in his arms just enough to look at him properly, her expression shifting from playful to businesslike with a speed that reminded him she was Isabella’s daughter and had probably inherited negotiation tactics through sheer proximity.

"I bet three million on the latter."

"On my money," he said flatly.

"On your money," she confirmed without a shred of shame.

He flicked her forehead. She flinched, laughed, and her grinding stuttered for exactly one second before resuming.

"You can’t use my money to bet on me," he said.

She shrugged—a full, casual, completely unrepentant shrug from a woman who was naked in his arms, wet against his cock, and absolutely certain she was going to win this argument.

"Up to you. If you don’t want to lose your millions—oh, by the way—I’m telling all the girls to bet the same. Of your money. If you don’t do it, you lose." She grinned, feral and adorable all at once. "Now come on, tiger. Save your billions."