Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs Chapter 1097: Best Russian Pussy (r-18)

Not yet! Her core remained untouched, though her mind was fraying at the edges. Her pelvis writhed in a desperate, futile rhythm as she sobbed, "You're destroying me—you absolute god—!"

Her fingers dug into my hair once more, a fierce, unconscious grip.

Her hips swayed erratically, a desperate dance as if to force me forward.

With two swift slaps to her rear, sharp, resounding cracks echoed, tearing a broken cry from her throat, "Ah—yes, **spank** my ass—!"

Then, I precisely covered the spot I'd just ignited, sinking my teeth deeply while my tongue eased the sting, eliciting another fragmented, weeping moan.

Subdued yet undeniably lewd sounds emanated from her, a symphony of gasps, whimpers, and throaty pleas that filled the celestial chamber like an orchestra only a divine being could conduct.

Her body glowed, marked by my touch: deep, savage impressions adorned her throat and breasts, delicate dental signatures traced her back and rear, and burgeoning bruises bloomed across her thighs and hips.

Every inch of her seemed conquered, possessed, irrevocably mine. Her breasts heaved with each ragged breath, her rear bore the markings of my hands and teeth, and her thighs quaked uncontrollably. Her perfection was marred, transformed into a trembling, imprinted plaything under my absolute control.

I deliberately moved upwards, tracing my mouth along her form in one final caress. I nipped her collarbone until she gasped and shuddered, then pulled wetly and bruisingly along the side of her neck, leaving one last, merciless mark directly above her pounding core—before drawing her tightly against me.

Inferno met inferno... the insistent, raging weight of my cock pressed between us, grinding against her abdomen with an autonomous, demanding rhythm.

Gripping her rear with both hands, I squeezed the plump, trembling cheeks with unyielding force, lifting her just enough that she was compelled to wrap her powerful, shaking thighs around my waist for support. Her wet heat hovered directly above my throbbing length.

Her eyes glazed over, lips parted, her chest rising and falling with those constant, yearning sounds that still spilled forth like a broken hymn.

I gently bit her lower lip—a tender, provocative gesture, then firmer—before pulling back just enough to speak against her mouth.

"Still convinced you won't accompany me to Paris?"

The celestial chamber's glow seemed to dim further, as if the very space recognized our inability to depart this sanctuary anytime soon.

She laughed—broken and famished, her nails drawing bloody streaks down my shoulders as another soft, needy moan escaped her ravaged lips—and that sound shattered the last remaining barrier between us.

I lowered her with deliberate reverence, allowing her back to meet the luminous floor of the celestial chamber. It was as if a queen were being placed upon an **altar** built solely for her destruction.

The underglow lights caressed every curve as she settled, painting her in soft gold and shadow. Her body lay open like a living masterpiece, begging me to descend and corrupt her further.

I knelt between her legs, like a devotee who had finally earned the right to worship at the source of all power.

Her long legs stretched out before me, resembling **twin** columns of divine marble and velvet—endless, powerful. The kind of legs that could conquer empires or tightly encircle a god's waist and never release.

From this low, reverent vantage point, they appeared even more exquisite. Her calves seemed sculpted and smooth, tapering upwards into thighs that swelled with every inch, heavy with muscle and plush promise. These were the kind of thighs that could crush a lesser man's skull and leave him eternally grateful for the experience.

I ran my palms up the outside of those glorious pillars, squeezing the firm flesh, feeling the latent strength thrum beneath my touch.

She instinctively **parted** them wider for me to see... and she knew it was my undoing. A low, needy moan escaped her throat—"Mmm—Peter..."

I pushed her knees further apart until her legs formed a shameless **V** of pure invitation.

And then, I took in the full, devastating spectacle.

Her inner thighs were the true masterpiece—thick, powerful, yet impossibly soft where they met. The pale skin was so delicate it flushed at the slightest pressure from my thumbs. I spread them wider still, as if the last encounter hadn't been enough; it was a sight I could never tire of.

My thumbs pressed into the yielding flesh, watching her powerful muscles tremble and part like curtains drawn back for an intimate performance.

Beyond dedicating her hours within her chambers, Anastasia maintained an ardent devotion to the gym... thus explaining her sculpted physique. Her body was a testament to her innate form, radiant beauty, relentless gym sessions, and my Divine Seed.

The sensitive core of her being shimmered under the room's illumination, as if attuned to my silent admiration. The subtle marks from earlier, like dark roses against cream, now bloomed vibrantly, each a testament to ownership that caused her hips to tremble and another broken whimper to escape her lips.

"Ahhh—yes, gaze upon me..."

My gaze ascended, savoring the gradual unveiling.

There, nestled at the peak of those magnificent, quivering thighs, lay the most exquisite sight I had awaited, and it, too, had been awaiting me!

Her pussy was the epitome of perfection—a breathtaking, swollen cleft of velvet rose and glistening pearl. The outer lips were full and abundant, like twin pillows engineered to embrace and clench only my cock in this life, slightly parted to reveal the delicate inner folds beneath.

These inner folds gleamed with her arousal, a soft, captivating sheen reflecting the light like liquid. The entire vision was framed by her powerful inner thighs, which trembled on either side like vigilant guardians of the most sacred sanctuary.

And a temple—indeed it was!

The hood of her clit peeked forth. It was a tiny, erect pearl yearning for attention, situated above a tight, quivering entrance that visibly pulsed under my stare, as if acknowledging my gaze and already longing to engulf every inch of me.

Among all my women, Anastasia's clit was the most concealed, yet it was also one of the most elegant, mirroring her own nature—delicate yet unashamedly voluptuous.

In bygone eras, I could confidently assert that her cunt possessed the power to enchant and make deities forget their own existence.

The soft pink hue deepened towards the center, its folds glistening and slightly swollen. Every minute detail was flawless, symmetrical, and beaded with an unspoken, desperate craving. A solitary, languid drop of her essence traced a path down the seam, catching the light like liquid gold, and I watched, consumed by a dark hunger, as it disappeared between the plush mounds of her posterior.

She lay spread wide before me, her long legs splayed like a sacred offering, powerful thighs quaking, that breathtaking pussy shamelessly exposed—the ultimate treasure of her body, the very altar I had dedicated this entire morning to reach.

I drew nearer, my breath ghosting warm across her hypersensitive inner thighs, then exhaled a slow, measured stream of cool air directly upon her glistening cleft. I watched as the swollen lips fluttered and clenched in an involuntary response.

I inhaled deeply, drawing into my lungs her raw, intoxicating perfume—sweet, musky, utterly captivating—before exhaling another warm gust directly at her core, causing her hips to surge upward with a sharp, desperate cry.

A deep, reverent growl rumbled from my chest.

"Fuck... look at you."

Her responding moan was pure, broken melody—"Peter—please..."—as she arched, pressing that perfect, glistening cunt closer to my mouth like the insatiable queen she was.

Then, her voice dipped into that velvety Russian cadence, low and wicked even as she trembled beneath me.

"This will forever be the most exquisite sensation you’ll ever taste," she murmured, her grey eyes alight with dark amusement.

"Or are you so certain already? This is my first, after all. How can you possibly know it’s the best when I’ve never had another?" I chuckled against her inner thigh, my teeth grazing the tender flesh as I inhaled her essence once more, deeper this time, allowing the scent of her arousal to saturate my senses until my cock throbbed with pure, almost divine longing.

I released another slow, teasing breath directly across her swollen clit, just to witness its subtle twitch and glistening under the cool air.

She laughed—breathless, undone, already plotting her retaliation—her powerful thighs quivering around my head as if intending to perpetually ensnare me there.

The stellar chamber's lights dimmed further, as if the very environment understood that the profound act of devotion was only just commencing.

"You cannot possibly ascertain if it is the best... or merely the only one I have been fortunate enough to worship. Are you growing presumptuous, Anastasia?"

"Presumptuous?" she rasped, as I blew another slow, teasing breath across her swollen clit, observing its minute tremor. "I am not presumptuous. I am certain!"

"Anastasia, I am the only one with certainty here because the moment my tongue delves into this magnificent Russian cunt, you will be the one pleading for me to suggest seeking others, perhaps a sister, to truly gauge your worth."

She giggled, her thighs trembling around my head as if aching to imprison me within their embrace forever.