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

The suite smelled of sweat and Amanda's release – thick, musky, intimate. She lay sprawled beside me, limp, trembling, a sheen of perspiration catching the low light like scattered diamonds. Her chest heaved, each ragged breath a testament to the ruin I'd wrought between her thighs.

The rawness of the 69 still hung in the air, the phantom ache of her throat around me, the taste of her gushing on my chin. But now, in the sudden quiet after the storm, something else stirred. Her eyes, when they fluttered open, weren't glazed with shock or surrender. They held something deeper, a dawning wonder, a vulnerability that cut through the predatory haze still clinging to me.

This wasn't just another conquest gasping on Harold's sheets. This was Amanda, irrevocably altered, waiting.

I rolled onto my side, facing her. The violence that had fueled me moments before receded like a tide, leaving behind a strange stillness. My fingers, still slick with her, traced a line from her collarbone down the valley between her breasts. The touch wasn't possessive now, not in the bruising way of before.

It was… reverent.

Her skin was impossibly soft, flushed warm, and she shivered under the light graze, a soft sigh escaping her lips instead of a gasp. I leaned in, my voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the silk beneath us and into her very bones.

"Look at you," I murmured, the words warm against the sensitive shell of her ear. "Shattered. Beautiful. All mine." My lips brushed her neck, just below her jaw, feather-light. "Harold saw a trophy, Amanda. I see a goddess finally remembering her own fire."

She trembled again, a different kind of tremor this time, softer, deeper. I felt it resonate through her entire body, a hum of awakening. My hands slid under her back, strong but gentle now, lifting her effortlessly.

She came willingly, boneless, trusting, moulding herself against me as I carried her the short distance to the head of the bed.

I settled us amidst the crushed rose petals, leaning back against the piled pillows, drawing her onto my lap, her legs straddling mine, her body nestled against my chest. The position was intimate, vulnerable, her body cradled by mine.

The sheer size of me pressed against the small of her back was undeniable, a thick, heavy presence even in this tender moment. I felt her shift slightly, a quick intake of breath as she became supremely aware of the hard length nestled against her skin.

Her hand, tentative at first, slid down her own stomach, over the curve of her hip, then back, seeking. Her fingers brushed the thick shaft, explored its girth, traced the prominent vein pulsing along its underside. A soft, almost awed sound escaped her lips.

"Eros…" It wasn't a plea, not anymore. It was recognition. Worship. Her other hand joined the first, both small palms wrapping around my cock, barely holding the weight and hardness, fingers stroking the silken skin stretched taut over the steel beneath.

She held the weight, the heat, the undeniable reality of me, measuring the impossible promise against her own readiness.

"Easy, goddess," I breathed into her hair, my hands coming to rest on her hips, holding her steady, grounding her. My thumbs stroked the soft curve where her waist met her flank. "Take your time. It's yours now. All of it."

I nuzzled her neck, inhaling the scent of her –sweat, sex, and something uniquely Amanda that made my gut clench with a fiercer, more profound hunger than anything I'd felt before. This wasn't just about possession. Not now.

It was about the connection forged in the crucible of her surrender. "You decide," I whispered, the promise thick in my voice. "Every inch. Every second."

Her answer was the slow, deliberate lift of her hips. She rose up on her knees, bracing herself with her hands pressed flat against my lower abdomen, fingers splayed wide. The position arched her spine beautifully, thrusting her breasts forward, presenting the flushed, sensitive peaks to the dim light.

She shifted forward, aligning the broad, flared head of my cock with the slick, swollen entrance of her cunt. The mere contact made her gasp, her body jerking slightly. She was still so sensitive, the recent orgasms leaving every nerve endings raw and exposed. But she didn't pull away.

She hovered, the thick crown pressed against her opening, a thick promise and a delicious tease. Her eyes met mine over her shoulder, dark pools of apprehension and fierce determination.

Then, slowly, so slowly it was almost agony, she began to lower herself. The broad head stretched her impossibly wide.

"HAAAAAaaaaahhhh~~~ Eros..." A choked cry tore from her throat, her head falling back against my shoulder, her entire body trembling with the effort, the overwhelming sensation of being filled beyond anything she'd ever known. Inch by agonizing inch, she descended.

I watched, mesmerized, as the half of the thick shaft disappeared into her body, her slick folds clinging to the veined length, swallowing me half-deep. The friction was incredible, a velvet slickness that gripped me like a fist.

I could feel every inner ridge, every flutter of her overwhelmed walls as she took more and more. Her hands pressed harder against my stomach, her knuckles white, her back arched deeper, a perfect bowstrung tension.

Sweat beaded on her skin, tracing paths down her spine, between her breasts.

"Fuck… Eros… so… big…" she panted, the words ragged, ripped from her core.

Another inch sank in. She stilled, Adjusting. Breathing through the delicious, terrifying stretch. My hands roamed freely now, not guiding her descent, but worshipping the curve. One hand slid up her flank, tracing the dip of her waist, then around to cup the heavy weight of her breast.

My thumb brushed the straining nipple, eliciting a sharp gasp. I leaned my head down, capturing the peak between my lips. Not roughly, but with a deep, sucking pull that made her cry out again, echoing in the quiet room.

My other hand kneaded the firm globe of her ass, fingers digging possessively into the soft flesh, holding her, steadying her, feeling the muscles tense and release as she fought to accommodate me.

She took another inch. And then another. Until finally, with a shuddering groan that vibrated through both of us, she settled fully onto my lap. I was buried to the hilt to accommodate her pussy o her liking.

Balls-deep.

The heat of her engulfed me, the tightness a perfect, almost painful, sheath, this is perhaps the first time I let myself adjust my cock so a woman can take me balls-deep so much like this.

We stayed like that for a long moment, fused together, both trembling. Her head was still thrown back against my shoulder, her eyes squeezed shut, her lips parted. The diamond ring on her left hand, still faintly sticky with remnants of our earlier abandon, glinted on her finger where it rested on my hip.

A silent symbol of the world she'd just incinerated to be here, impaled on me.

"Feel that, goddess?" I murmured against her temple, my voice thick with the sheer overwhelming intimacy of it. "That's where you belong. Full of me. Riding me. Claiming what's yours as much as I claim you."

My hands continued their slow exploration. One thumb circled her clit, still peeking from its hood, hypersensitive. She jerked, a whimper escaping her.

The other hand slid down the cleft of her ass, a single finger brushing the tight pucker hidden there, just a ghost of a touch that made her entire body clench around me.

"Move when you're ready, Amanda. Show me how you want to be worshipped."

Her eyes opened, locking with mine in the mirror of the darkened window. A slow, fierce smile curved her lips. The shattered look was gone, replaced by a radiant power, a goddess reborn. She braced her hands firmly on my lower abdomen again, fingers digging in slightly for leverage.

Then, with exquisite control, she began to move. It wasn't the frantic, punishing rhythm of before. It was a slow, undulating dance.

She lifted herself, inch by inch, the slick walls of her cunt clinging to my shaft, dragging a low groan from my own throat. I felt every ridge, every flutter of muscle as she rose until only the head remained trapped within her. She paused, hovering, looking down at where our bodies joined, a sight that stole her breath.

Then, just as slowly, she sank back down, taking every thick inch deep inside her again. A long, satisfied moan escaped her, a sound of pure, unadulterated bliss.

Up. Down. Slow. Deliberate.

Each ascent a long, delicious withdrawal.

Each descent a deep, molten reclaiming.

She found a rhythm, a rocking motion of her hips that ground her clit against my pubic bone on the downstroke, sending jolts of electricity through both of us. Her back arched deeper, a beautiful, sensual curve, her breasts offered to my mouth.

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A/N: Guys tell me if you have any issues with many and descriptive sex scenes... I can tone down if you like. I usually write long ones since me as a reader too I hate half-baked sex scenes when I am reading.