Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs Chapter 977: Genevieve’s Morning After (r-18)

Golden rays pierced the half-drawn blinds, casting slim golden streaks over the lavish third penthouse hotel bed, highlighting the twisted white sheets and the emerging bruises on her thighs like deep purple blossoms from intense suction marks.

She stirred awake gradually, her body weighed down by that profound, pulsing soreness echoing every explicit moment from the previous night—the ripped dress still bunched on the bathroom floor as proof, mascara streaks hardened into pale black trails she hadn't wiped clean.

Her eyes stayed shut at first. She simply sensed his presence.

Eros's wide shoulders were firmly positioned between her knees, spreading her legs into a shameless, vulnerable openness.

Her thighs quivered beside his head, heels dangling pointlessly over his bulky biceps, toes clenching in mid-air whenever his warm breath brushed her puffy, damp-from-sleep folds.

His hands gripped the backs of her thighs—fingers digging into plush skin, spreading her even further so everything lay exposed: outer lips swollen and separated, inner folds tinted deep pink and shining with the thick leftovers of last night's seed blended with her new, steadily dripping excitement.

Warm breath struck her initially—followed by the broad side of his tongue. A single long, purposeful lick from the leaking opening upward, gathering the dense, tangy-sweet blend of his dried release and her fresh morning moisture in one lewd swipe.

Genevieve groaned deeply and raggedly, the noise bursting free before she could stifle it.

Her hands flew downward, fingers plunging into his hair, gripping the strands so fiercely her knuckles turned white.

She pulled him fiercely against her pussy, craving more of his tongue, hips thrusting upward from the bed to grind her core against his lips. "Right there—oh god—don’t you fucking stop—"

No playful foreplay today. No harsh teases. Only fierce, ravenous, desperate devotion.

He pressed his lips to her outer folds and sucked—intensely, voraciously, drawing the plump, engorged flesh into the slick warmth of his mouth as if aiming to devour her completely. It produced its own noisy slurp, overpowering her stifled cry as he drew them inside.

The tender pussy lips snapped loose with a sharp, vulgar wet pop, unfurling again richer in color, glossier, wetter than prior.

He rumbled deeply against her, his voice dampened and resonating directly into her clit.

"Fuck, Gen—you taste like pure vice." Then he plunged again, tongue thrusting amid the folds, broadening to stroke the delicate inner rims, drawing each one between his lips sequentially—left, right, left—as if passionately kissing her slit.

Each tug jerked her hips; each let-go left her folds shivering, drenched in new saliva and her own juices.

He targeted her clit directly—that plump, pulsing nub already engorged and protruding boldly from its hood, pleading. He laid his tongue flat upon it, pressing steadily, then began deliberate, firm circles that hoisted her entire pelvis from the mattress like a shock jolt.

"Yes—fuck—suck it—" she panted, her voice gravelly from sleep and fracturing.

Fingers clenched harder in his hair, dragging him so close his nose pressed into her mound, his chin already glossy and dripping.

He complied like one driven mad. His lips enveloped her clit once more—this time sucking with greater force, hauling the swollen tip deep into the scorching, slick vacuum of his mouth, tongue whipping the tender base in swift, obscene lashes—rapid tiny strokes that locked her thighs around his ears and shook them.

"Mmmph—look at this needy little button," he muttered against her clit, words muddled and playful, buzzing into her depths.

"Pulsing like it’s furious I ignored it overnight."

He let it go with a slick pop—observed its twitch—then drew it back, cheeks caving in tightly so the pull tugged her whole pelvis. His tongue swirled the peak in wild loops as he hummed deeply, the tremor surging through her like a storm.

He switched back and forth—sucking her clit as if wrenching her climax by sheer power, then sliding downward.

Tongue drove into her entrance—

—thrusting inside her with measured, intentional pumps that scraped her front wall, extracting more of the rich blend of his cum and her desire.

Her inner walls rippled and gripped his probing tongue, eager contractions attempting to hold him captive.

He fucked her with his tongue more profoundly—extended, messy dives that hooked on each pull-back, teasing her textured spots while his nose nudged her clit in sync. Her slick surged into his mouth with each push—dense, heated, savory-sweet—and he swallowed it eagerly with throaty, slurping moans that vibrated her core.

"Goddamn, Gen," he growled against her soaked opening, easing back slightly for clarity, chin gleaming, lips puffed.

Then he surged forward again, tongue stabbing rapidly now—brief, quick thrusts creating loud squishy noises that echoed in the room, extra cream leaking past his lips, trickling in hot streams down her cleft, drenching the sheets in a widening dark stain.

She kept him pinned—thighs squeezing his head one moment, parting even broader the next—palms shoving his skull's back as if to bind him eternally to her pussy.

Hips circled in bold little rolls, humping his face, coating him from brow to jaw with her wetness.

"Eat me—eat that pussy—" Her voice shattered into hoarse cries. "Suck my clit harder—make me soak your fucking face—"

He snarled once more—the vibration promising more through her center—then assaulted her.

His lips locked on her clit as his tongue stabbed in and out, swift and dirty, hooking sharply on every retreat.

"You want it messy?" he slurred around her engorged nub, drenched in her essence. "Gonna make you squirt all over my tongue, married girl... gonna ruin these sheets, shall we?"

He sucked her clit fiercer—cheeks concaving—while his tongue jabbed her entrance in savage short bursts, nose rubbing her clit with every advance. Her juices spurted—threads linking his mouth to her hole on breaths—smearing his chin, trailing down his throat.

Climax neared—her pussy contracting in wild flutters around his invading tongue, clit pulsing against his mouth. New waves gushed with each profound thrust.

"I’m—fuck—I’m gonna cum—don’t stop—don’t you dare—make me cum on your tongue—" Fingers wrenched his hair painfully, hips bucking madly, grinding on his face like survival.

Her body seized—abdomen clenching, thighs shuddering fiercely, pussy clamping hard on his tongue as ecstasy exploded within.

She screamed—piercing, primal, fractured—spine arching from the bed as surges pounded her.

New slick jetted into his mouth in heated spurts; he lapped gently through it now—prolonging the tremors until her cries faded to quivering sighs and her legs splayed limp.

Finally slack, her grip eased from his hair, chest rising and falling rapidly, she exhaled shakily.

"Jesus fucking Christ..." she breathed, voice utterly destroyed. "You’re gonna kill me one of these mornings."

Eros raised his head slightly to prop his chin on her mound—lips and chin slick with her, gaze shadowed, cocky, content. He planted a gentle, nearly affectionate kiss inside her thigh—precisely over a purple mark he'd left last night.

"Morning, Genevieve," he whispered against her heated skin, tone gravelly from prolonged immersion. Then, flashing that provoking smile she was starting to adore despite herself: "Told you I’d eat you for breakfast. Still hungry?"

She chuckled—gasping, broken—and hauled him upward by the hair until his lips slammed into hers.

She savored her own flavor everywhere on him—rich, sugary, indecent.

And she deepened the kiss, her tongue tangling with his, pursuing every lingering bit.