Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs Chapter 1025: A Line Between Freeing and Feeding

I refused to turn around. Nor did I step back toward her.

In all honesty, I knew precisely what Maria desired without delving into her thoughts. And damn, she was tempting — blazing hot, swollen with two decades of bottled-up craving pouring from her like

scorching heat that mercilessly gnawed at my entire restraint.

There she stood: a fifty-something ideal clad in transparent black lace, full breasts heaving with rapid breaths, dark nipples rigid and pleading through the material, droplets of water shining on her flesh like a seductive call

As much as I ached to seize both in the most wickedly prohibited manner possible, rivaled only by what I share with mom and my sisters — as much as every Taboo power in my kit was shrieking, thundering, baying for me to bridge the gap, shred that robe, slam her onto the bed, and fuck her until twenty years of void exploded —

Though I could plunge myself deep into a woman I just encountered and render the instant holy and eternal — provided I truly cherished her enough to keep her forever and she reciprocated —

Usually, the formula proved gorgeously, perilously straightforward: ensuring it wasn't a mere exchange but the start of something genuine and indestructible.

Margaret's case had unfolded identically.

Charlotte's situation grew more tangled solely because she wasn't completely mine yet.

Yet while I could claim most women on our initial encounter and infuse it with profound, bedrock, enduring significance, matters never stayed so straightforward with my

That label carried an overwhelming burden. To love them required embracing their daughters too — navigating webs of familial devotion, remorse, joint pasts, and ties forged well before my arrival.

This rendered it impossible to just accept the proffered gift and resolve the

And worsening it further — hell, it had my cock pulsing with such fierce agony — Maria's current offer wasn't a

It was primal, . A filthy hidden indulgence.

A singular frantic outlet she could seal away under lock and key and burn as sustenance through the coming two decades of devastating isolation.

Though reason bellowed it shouldn't truly count — since at my core, I sensed the unyielding assurance she'd become mine eventually, as surely as dawn breaks, and I could court her rightly later, forging something authentic and enduring from the raw, explosive evening — the mere notion of proceeding overwhelmed every logical impulse remaining.

Each neuron stood hijacked by the lurid, obscene vision of Maria splayed under me on that bed:

My cock rebelled against my choice.

Ferociously.

It had lodged endless protests with my nerves from the moment I entered — from spotting her wet hair sticking to her shoulders, beads of water trailing down her ample cleavage, the transparent lace hugging every voluptuous contour, her nipples hardening into taut, shadowed tips beneath my stare.

At present, it launched a total uprising, swollen and throbbing, straining harshly against my jeans' zipper with defiant fervor.

Each throb delivered another surge of raw, disloyal craving right to its core.

Still, I suppressed it.

By shifting focus to the person over the form. By beholding Maria — the isolated, scarred, staunchly dignified mom — rather than the devilishly alluring bait she dangled before me like illicit temptation.

She was Luna’s mother.

And her pain... that profound, twenty-year gash propelling her to this precise collapse — positioned in a spare bedroom clad solely in a black lace robe picked on purpose, presenting herself to her daughter's lover since isolation outweighed disgrace —

I couldn't exploit her desperate, throbbing need as a fast track to force her into a true bond with me afterward.

I couldn't bang her while she remained bleedingfrom the inside then attempt to trap her into permanence because her flesh chose desperately while her soul and thoughts lagged behind.

I'd enjoyed impulsive, zero-second-thought romps countless times before. I'd stolen men’s women upon first meeting without an ounce of hesitation. I'd claimed females in restrooms, workplaces, without ever doubting when lust matched and freedom rang true.

But this differed sharply.

Maria wasn't escaping a lousy spouse. Loneliness was gradually consuming her alive.

And a vast, heart-rending gap existed between liberating someone and feeding on their desperation like a beast.

Should I claim her right this instant, she might despise herself come morning. Even before I crossed that threshold, she was already waging a fierce battle within—I lacked the full story, but I understood women deeply, and that tormented, torn, desperate gleam in her eyes as she opened the door told me everything.

Seizing her amid that inner turmoil would taste like triumph tonight, but crush her soul with betrayal tomorrow.

I wouldn't let myself become the cause for Luna’s mother to avert her gaze from the mirror in lifelong shame and recoil.

Relationships and family dynamics, man.

Even a guy with my kind of power has to set a line somewhere... no matter how fiercely my body yells that I'm a total moron for it.

I spun around completely to confront her—robe dipping perilously low across her shoulders, golden glow tracing every luscious curve, stiff nipples thrusting boldly against the thin black lace, smooth thighs parted just a bit on the bed—

And posed the real question I'd come here for, before her collarbones, full heaving breasts, and the tempting heat between her legs tried to derail the whole talk.