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

Chapter 962: Married Body... Stranger’s Cock (r-18)

I pulled her off my cock again—slow, torturouslyslow, letting her swollen lips drag along every veined inch, milking the last thick strings of silver spit until they snapped and fell in heavy ropes onto her heaving chest.

She gasped—ragged, sobbing inhale—perfect, heavy tits rising and falling fast, nipples dark and painfully erect, spit-glazed and glistening under the fluorescent glare.

Her eyes were feral—pupils blown black. The torn dress dangled in pathetic black ribbons around her hips, doing nothing to conceal the wreckage: flushed skin, trembling thighs, pussy visibly dripping down the insides in slow, obscene trails.

I spun her around—gentle but unyielding—until her front pressed flush to the cold metal stall partition.

Her palms slapped flat against it; she arched instantly—spine curving into a deep, desperate bow, ass thrusting back toward me like her body had already surrendered what her mind was still fighting, ready to receive me.

Full-body shiver rippled through her from shoulders to calves the moment my hands found her hips.

I dropped to my knees behind her, palms sliding up the backs of her thighs—smooth, warm, quivering skin—pushing the shredded silk higher until it bunched uselessly at her waist. No thong, no barrier.

Just bare, flushed flesh: pussy lips swollen dark pink, glistening obscenely, inner folds slick and parted, clit peeking out throbbing, a thin silver thread of arousal stretching from her entrance to the marble floor below.

I started at her nape—lips first, then tongue—slow, wet drag down the centerline of her spine. She shivered violently the instant contact—goosebumps erupting in waves across her shoulders, down her arms, low, forbidden married-woman moan slipping out.

"Ohhh... fuck..." —voice cracking, trembling, like she hadn’t meant to let the sin escape.

I kept going—kissing, licking, sucking lightly at each vertebra—her back muscles jumping and twitching under my tongue as I worked wonders on her, spine arching harder, ass pushing back greedily.

When I reached the small of her back I bit down—firm, possessive—and she cried out sharp and broken, "Ah—yes—" hips jerking backward, thighs quaking, pussy clenching visibly on nothing.

Lower.

I spread her ass cheeks wide—firm, claiming grip—exposing everything: tight little ring winking, slick pussy dripping, inner thighs already shining. Tongue flat and broad, I dragged from the base of her her pussy straight down to where her pusst ended—tasting salt, sweat, the sweet heady musk of her forbidden arousal.

She sobbed—"Fuck—yes—gods—"

—Her voice wrecked, knees buckling inward. I held her steady by the hips, mouth devouring her cheeks now—sucking one side hard enough to pull the flesh taut, then the other, teeth grazing, leaving blooming red ovals that would darken to deep purple by dawn.

Every mark made her shiver harder—full-body tremors, moans turning into these desperate, whimpering gasps every time my tongue flicked over fresh bruising.

"These cheeks are mine now," I growled against her skin, voice muffled in soft flesh. "Tomorrow when you sit at breakfast, every time you shift and feel the ache, you’ll remember who branded this married ass tonight."

She moaned long and trembling—loud, shameless, echoing off marble—body shaking so violently her fingers curled white-knuckled against the wall.

"Please—more—mark me—fuck—own it—" —voice cracking on every word, forbidden heat pouring out in waves.

She thought she was doing this for night and why not go all out before she went back to her life? Like she would.

I gave her exactly what she begged for—sucking harder, biting deeper into the tender curve where thigh met cheek, leaving dark, angry ovals that would bruise spectacularly.

She was shivering nonstop now—violent, uncontrollable tremors rolling from calves to shoulders, moans fracturing into high, broken whimpers every time I dragged my tongue back up the crack, circling her tight hole without breaching, teasing until her hips bucked helplessly.

I stood slowly—cock sliding hot and thick between her spread cheeks, nestling deep in the cleft. She was so warm. My cock in her crack as I grinded felt so warm.

She gasped sharp at the contact—ass clenching reflexively around the shaft, pussy dripping harder down my length.

I yanked her back against my chest—hard—her bare, sweat-slick back flush to me, torn ribbons of dress scraping my shirt.

One arm banded iron-tight around her waist; the other dropped between her trembling thighs.

Fingers found her clit—swollen, throbbing, slick as oil—and I started slow, cruel circles. Simultaneously I rocked my hips, sliding my cock up and down her crack in long, deliberate strokes—not entering, just letting her feel every thick, veined inch gliding over her puckered hole, pressing insistently on every upstroke.

She went feral.

Moans turned raw, animal—"Oh god—fuck—yes—right there—please—"—voice rising, cracking, body shaking so violently I had to tighten my grip to keep her upright.

Her pussy gushed—hot, slick floods coating my fingers, dripping in thick rivulets down her thighs, pooling on the floor.

Her clit pulsed wildly under my touch—throbbing like a second heartbeat—and I sped up—faster, harder, pinching, rolling, tugging while my cock kept sawing, now glistening from her own leaking arousal.

Her head fell back against my shoulder—mouth open wide, moans spilling unchecked—loud, shameless, echoing through the stall like a confession.

"I’m—fuck—I’m gonna—" she panted, hips grinding back frantically, chasing every inch of friction, body convulsing in sharp, helpless waves.

I bent her forward—quick, rough—until her hands braced the toilet tank, ass high, back arched impossibly deep, spine bowed, tits swaying heavy beneath her. The position change made her shiver violently—thighs quaking, pussy clenching rhythmically on nothing, a fresh gush running down her inner thigh.

I lined up—blunt head nudging her entrance, parting slick lips just enough to feel how scorching hot, how dripping wet, how desperately ready she was. I held there—not pushing in—letting her feel the thick pressure, the stretch teasing her outer lips, the promise of ruin.

She shivered again—whole body convulsing—"Please—" barely a whisper, voice shattered, trembling.

I reached around, found her clit one last time, and pinched—sharp, firm, rolling it hard between thumb and finger.

She screamed—high, broken, desperate—back arching so violently her spine looked ready to snap, ass shoving back like she was trying to impale herself, tears spilling fresh down mascara-streaked cheeks, body seizing in sharp, helpless spasms of pleasure-pain.

Every muscle locked and released—thighs trembling, pussy fluttering wildly, moans fracturing into these raw, married-woman sobs that echoed like sin itself.

I held her there—cock kissing her entrance, my fingers still torturing her clit, her entire body shaking like a live wire caught in the taboo aura’s pulse.

And I waited.

Letting her feel every single second of the edge she was balanced on—shivering, dripping, moaning, owned.