Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs Chapter 1018: Luna’s Offer, Addiction and Bet

Bare on the bench, they lounged with her back nestled warmly to his chest, his arms encircled firmly around her waist, her legs slung casually across his. Skin met skin amid that thick, golden afterglow mist where time had bowed out gracefully and the outside world could screw itself for now.

"That was really beautiful," Luna murmured. Soft and sincere. "The way you just... anchored me. It wasn’t you conquering me or taming anything. It pulled me closer in a way I didn’t even know existed."

Her fingertip drew lazy circles across his chest.

"It felt gentler than our first time. Gentler than any gentle moment you’ve ever had with me. You’ve taken me gently before, but this... I lack words for it."

He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, letting his lips remain there.

"I just missed your body syncing with mine," he whispered. "Whenever I attempted to quicken, something inside held back. As if your body murmured to mine to keep it slow... and mine obeyed for once."

She froze briefly. Her finger halted its path.

"I hope you didn’t hate—"

"Bullshit." Her head snapped up, eyes sparking. "I loved it. Gods, Peter, it was so beautiful. Your hips rolled that way—your cock just rolled inside me, slow and incredibly deep. Each thrust hit like a lingering, languid wave through my spine, my chest, behind my eyes... I—"

His palm tousled her hair wildly, disheveling it fully and tilting her glasses askew once more.

She spluttered. "Hey—"

"You were about to wax poetic."

"I was about to be accurate."

"Same thing with you."

She puffed out a breath, abandoned her hair in glorious chaos, and nestled back to his chest with a grumble that rang mostly fake and barely genuine irritation.

Luna planted a kiss on his bare chest—gentle, purposeful—placing her lips directly over his heart and lingering an extra moment, as if verifying the stubborn organ beat precisely as she desired.

In his hold, she adjusted for a snugger, more perfect fit against him, then claimed his lips in a slow, leisurely kiss flavored with sex, salt, and their fused essence.

Drawing away, she trailed to his neck, lips following the tendon, tongue grazing his pulse lightly until a tremor coursed through him he couldn’t conceal.

Against his skin, her smile formed—he sensed it—and she ventured lower, lips brushing collarbone then dipping further, honoring the muscle contours with silent devotion.

No intent to ignite fresh passion lurked in her actions. She simply... adored. In Luna’s pure, unproclaimed style—direct and intent, zeroed on whichever part of him called for her affection just then.

Only as her lips sealed his eyes midway from neck to sternum did he notice they had drifted shut.

Now he simply floated, each lip touch imprinting unseen marks on spots untouched by others.

For a prolonged instant, she observed him. Eyes shut or not, her steady, warm stare registered.

Within her chest, something eased into final alignment, like the last puzzle bit locking home.

She struggled to pinpoint his method, yet he invariably carved a unique haven for each of his women.

Or perhaps no distinct chambers existed.

Perhaps a single enormous expanse dwelled within him, crafted for all his women together without divides.

Unsure which dazzled more: a secluded, fortified nook in his heart bearing solely her name... or the expansive, barrier-free realm where loves mingled freely, warmth too boundless for solitary creation.

Against his chest, Luna whispered drowsily, her tone gentle and sleepy. "Yeah... I kinda like the latter better."

One eye cracked open as he lifted a hand, thumb guiding a loose hair strand behind her ear. "Like what better?"

Humming contentedly, she burrowed closer, cheek mashed to his sternum, one arm clamping his waist as though to bodily bar his departure—despite his plan to stay rooted for ages.

Downward drifted Luna’s gaze, following the chiseled contours of his torso.

Her fingers trailed after, gliding gradually over his abs, dipping even lower to tease along the thick, heavy length of his cock draped on his thigh.

Soft as it lay, it screamed sinful—elongated, thick, full of vow, the sort that scrambled sensible minds.

Lip caught between teeth, a faint smile played as she delivered one idle, fond caress.

she pondered, its wicked heft cozy and known in her grasp. Small marvel her body yielded utterly. Small marvel those unhurried, undulating pushes lingered profoundly within her long after.

"Nothing," she replied. "Just thinking."

A few moments of cozy quiet enveloped the pair before she lifted her chin. "So...

"Your mom?"

"She mentioned staying another day. But aren't you heading to Paris tonight?"

His laugh erupted—rich, hearty, echoing through their pressed bodies so she sensed it buzzing in her teeth from their tight clinch. With fluid grace, he swept her into a bridal carry, legs kicking lightly, arms automatically looping his neck.

Her surprised squeak hadn't even faded when his teeth claimed her.

Starting at her shoulder—a gentle, intentional nip applying just enough force for subtle imprints on her skin.

Trailing down her collarbone, teeth skimming lightly, lips chasing behind. Upon reaching her breast, he nipped the plush upper curve using that exquisite force poised perfectly between ache and bliss.

"It tickles!" she gasped, chortling and wriggling in his hold, hands feebly pressing his brow.

No genuine push came from her—she truly didn't want him halting, and both recognized it fully.

"You little gremlin— he murmured amid the bites, teeth targeting the swell of her other breast and pinching the tender flesh as she writhed and giggled, I heard from ARIA you showed your mother our intimate videos and photos."

Her laughter exploded into wild cackles. She flung her head back within his arms and bellowed toward the ceiling, "ARIA, you traitor!"

Another bite struck—this one beneath her breast where skin felt most delicate. She shrieked, legs thrashing, fingers clutching his hair, mirth overwhelming any chance for a solid rebuttal.

"Hey—" she squeezed out between chuckles and pants as his teeth brushed her nipple, "hey—Mom hasn't been fucked in around eighteen years. Maybe longer."

He repositioned her, legs circling his waist for face-to-face lock, arms slung over his shoulders. Utterly bare, their bodies melded skin-to-skin under the soft ambient glow.

His lips captured hers—deep, unyielding, savoring the joy still dancing on her tongue—before easing back slightly to murmur, "So?"

"I happen to know just someone" she declared, prodding his chest with a finger—then another jab, firmer at his breastbone, "

One more poke followed, her grin wide and gleaming, green eyes gleaming with naughty spark through her steamed-up glasses. "Oh, mighty High Pope of the Liberation Church. Hold on—scratch that—you're practically a god these days. Near enough."

He burst into laughter.

"What makes you think I'll swoop in and bang her" he questioned, lips brushing her neck mid-sentence—homing in on that vulnerable spot under her ear that always dissolved her.

She adjusted against him, guiding his cock into the hot, slippery groove of her thighs. Then the rhythm began.

"

Each languid roll deliberate, her hips swaying in a tempo signaling no haste—this was her natural state now.

"Fucking your mom is one thing," he pressed on, voice hitching as another grind sent his length gliding along her slit, her scorching warmth almost shattering his train of thought, "but covering every woman worldwide? Impossible. Also—"

Kisses dotted her jawline, chin, mouth's edge as her hips maintained that torturously slow cadence. "Who's to say? Maybe I'm content keeping her as my slave. Black replaces yellow now."

"Bullshit," Luna shot back instantly, grinding on, beaming brightly, utterly casual about bartering atop his thick shaft like routine weekend fun.

"Okay, spill. Will you or won't you?" She arched back slightly in his grasp to meet his gaze squarely, playfulness flipping to serious negotiation in a blink—a reminder she was Isabella's offspring, absorbing deal-making skills by osmosis.

"I bet three million on you doing it."

"Using my cash," he stated dryly.

"Your cash," she agreed shamelessly.

He snapped her forehead lightly. She winced, giggled, her motion faltering precisely one beat before picking up again.

"We'll see," he replied.

She shrugged fully, nonchalantly, without regret—a nude woman in his embrace, slick along his hardness, utterly convinced victory was hers.

"Your call. Skip it and lose millions—oh, and I'm looping in all the girls to wager likewise. Your funds. No action, you're out." Her grin turned savage yet cute. "Come on, tiger. Rescue your billions."