Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs Chapter 1037: Poor Nyxire (r-18)

Madison turned towards me, her gaze incredibly soft and open, a rare sight she only revealed when the world outside ceased to exist... It had been some time since I'd witnessed such vulnerability in my Queen.

"Peter, may I—"

Cutting her short, I drew her into an embrace without any hesitation.

She let out a gasp as my lips met hers, silencing the words on her tongue. Instantly, she yielded, her arms encircling my neck as she rose on her toes, meeting my lowered head. Her fingers plunged deep into the hair at the back of my head.

I clasped her waist, pulling her impossibly closer before lifting her effortlessly from the ground. She pressed herself into me.

Her legs wrapped around my waist without a second thought, locking tightly. Her yielding body pressed flush against my hardened form, a mix of reverence, trust, and burgeoning desire. Her soft curves met the unyielding muscles of mine, her warmth seeping into my very being.

A low, guttural snort of pure annoyance erupted from Nyxire, displeased by the scene unfolding before her eyes when we were supposed to be visiting her. We were an offense to her sight by the gate. Her head swung sideways, nudging us forcefully enough to push us a full step away.

We chuckled, our lips still locked. Foreheads touching, we reveled in the moment within the stable's soft confines. Madison's breath, warm and shaky, ghosted against my lips.

I gently lifted her, carrying her as if she were fragile, and set her down on the wide wooden edge of the manger, the rim pressing into the back of her thighs.

The hay shifted beneath my queen's rounded, supple form as she settled, legs still loosely entwined around my hips, hands still buried in my hair. I trailed kisses down her jawline, tracing the elegant curve of her neck, savoring the taste of her soft, sweet skin until my lips found the sensitive spot below her ear where her pulse beat a frantic rhythm.

A soft, breathy moan escaped her, igniting a fire within me. I craved more of her voice, more of her sweet skin. Her fingers tightened in my hair, a desperate grip guiding my mouth precisely where she yearned for it.

"Right there," she whispered, her voice already breaking. "Stay right there."

I complied. My teeth grazed her skin, my tongue tracing the frantic beat of her pulse. She arched off the manger's edge, pressing herself more intently against my mouth. Her body trembled beneath my control, succumbing to the sensation, losing herself completely.

The stable grew quiet, save for her exquisite sounds and the occasional irritated snort from Nyxire and the other horses in the background.

My hands drifted downwards, inching towards the hem of her dress, my gaze occasionally meeting hers. I pushed the fabric upwards with deliberate slowness, my knuckles brushing against skin that was warm, smooth, and tensed with shivers at my touch.

She didn't resist. Instead, her legs tightened around my hips, muscles trembling with anticipation, drawing me closer until I could feel the intense heat radiating from her core through the barrier of my jeans.

"Peter—"

I kissed lower, my lips gliding across her collarbone, teeth teasing the neckline of her dress, revealing more of her exquisite, soft skin. Her back arched in a dangerously beautiful curve, offering her heated body to me. The hay rustled beneath her, and the wooden manger groaned under her weight.

Her hips began to sway without conscious thought, a slow, instinctive grinding against the hardening length of my cock between us. Each deliberate movement drew her core along my hardness through the layers of fabric, eliciting gasps from her and prompting her to repeat, more forcefully.

I gripped her thighs firmly, my fingers sinking into soft flesh, pulling her flush against the very edge of the manger. Our bodies pressed together, leaving nothing between us but dwindling restraint.

"We're in a stable," she whispered softly near my ear, a smile evident in her voice even as her hips continued their dance.

I silenced her with a deep, consuming kiss, my tongue exploring hers as my hands held her exactly as I desired... where she could feel the intensity of my longing. Her legs locked around me tighter, thighs quivering with exertion as she ground her clothed form against my cock in slow, devastating circles.

The friction was maddening.

She desired me just as fiercely!

Her hands slid down my chest, no longer gentle, but urgent and hungry, lacking the usual grace expected from a beauty approaching divine status.

Her fingers, skilled and swift, worked my belt open – faster than I'd ever seen, even during our hurried moments in cars. The button popped, and her hand slipped inside.

Fortunately for her... Isabella's decree against boxers remained in effect, granting her unrestricted and immediate access to my cock.

The instant her warm palm enfolded my thick, hardening shaft, a deep, guttural sound tore from my chest. Her soft fingers tightened with just the right pressure, delivering a slow, powerful, yet tender pump to my throbbing member.

"You saw him this morning before he took Vanessa."

"I missed him... and that was an orgy. Now, I have him all to myself."

Her thumb moved over the sensitive, hungry tip of my cock, smearing the bead of precum that had already formed. She stroked again, a long, slow pump, then twisted at the apex—and I felt my control slipping away.

I bit her bottom lip, then soothed it with my tongue while her hand maintained its flawless, devastating rhythm.

Nyxire snorted loudly behind us, rattling the stable gate with her head, clearly offended that her master was losing control like this and being ignored.

We chuckled.

Madison's free hand found the nape of my neck, pulling me down until our foreheads touched, our breaths mingling hotly. Her hand continued its steady, firm stroking between us, while her hips swayed in a lazy, grinding motion against my cock.

"We should stop," she breathed, though her hand never faltered.

I responded, my own hands gripping her thighs tighter, refusing to release her.

She gazed up at me then—her brown eyes, flecked with gold, brimming with passion and something far more profound. The face I adored long before I understood the true meaning of love.

"Or..." she uttered, the single word pregnant with unspoken possibilities.

I grinned, my voice low and rough, filled with a sense of possession.

"Or."

Dropping to my knees right there on the stable floor, the hay rustling softly beneath me, I never broke eye contact with her.

Madison, my queen, my perfect little goddess, sat perched on the edge of the manger as if she were born to be adored... her eyes widened in anticipation, her thighs trembling. Her dress was already hiked indecently high, the soft fabric cupping her most intimate parts like a forbidden offering meant only for me in this lifetime.

She watched me with those now brown eyes, her lips parted, chest heaving. I could see the frantic dance of her pulse in her throat. I could see the slight tremor in her soft, full thighs, simply from the sight of me kneeling before her.