Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs Chapter 991: Results Of Three Strides (r-18)

In just three steps, the broad desk—which had already borne witness to her previous downfall—was reached.

Her body was placed on the edge by me——before I backed away a half-step simply to look at her.

Muted golden hues from the city skyline filtered through the frosted glass panes framing her head.

Soundproofed and sealed tight, the office promised privacy—yet tension sparked in the atmosphere like electricity: corridor surveillance, aides potentially returning for a misplaced tablet, faint security drone echoing from above.

A single wrong moan too loud, and the Empress's sister would dominate headlines for scandalous reasons by dawn.

Optics meant nothing to her.

Both hands pressed by Sable onto the chilled glass behind her hips, her back arched like a taut longbow as she inched the cream silk higher.

Torturously. Incredibly slow.

Thick, opulent folds bunched the fabric at her waist, revealing lengthy, quaking thighs—porcelain flesh blushed deep pink, shimmering with a glossy layer of desire that gleamed under amber rays like diamond nectar poured over her.

Filmy black lace panties emerged—sheer and delicate.

Every lewd contour of her engorged mound was molded by the crotch, displayed in vivid clarity:

Thighs spread further as she adjusted—the panties strained tight. Lace thinned to translucency, exposing the precise form of her inner folds: dark pink, puffy, wet, twitching, begging to be spread apart.

Like a devotee discovering faith, I dropped to my knees amid her parted thighs... she was aware of my devotion as a worshipper to beauties' forms... the lower regions in particular.

To be precise, her pussy.

Anticipation alone made her breath catch—sharply, nearly a sob.

From the soft inner knee, a gentle, pious kiss began... a shiver wracked her. That sole touch made her frame quake intensely.

Feverish, smooth, quivering skin yielded beneath my lips. Progressing upward—kisses open-mouthed, light sucking, savoring salt, warmth, and subtle floral notes from her lavish lotion.

Violent shudders overtook her again, thighs vibrating beside my head like charged cables ready to burst.

Higher still—another kiss—then a languid, slick trail licked along the plush inner contour, followed by firmer suction drawing skin into my mouth until it flushed deep rose amid pallor.

A signature in every bite-mark; helpless quakes pulled from her with each tug.

Low and fractured, she moaned—hands diving into my hair, gripping roots fiercely, yanking me nearer as if craving my mouth etched into her essence.

Higher I ventured. Teeth skimmed the delicate juncture of thigh and groin. Hard I sucked—etching a profound, claiming ellipse into fragile flesh set to purple by morn, a hidden mark lingering with every boardroom leg-cross tomorrow.

Pure instinct sent her hips jerking ahead as though to thrust against my face; her pussy's aroma slammed into me fiercer than before—sharp, musky, intoxicating, dense with primal womanly craving. No resistance to her ripe pussy's scent... deeply I inhaled—nose grazing sodden lace—growling low into her thigh.

Obscene was the fragrance—sweet-tangy lust, steaming and fertile, so overwhelming my cock ached fiercely in my pants, pre-cum oozing as if I endured the torment.

My nose trailed side to side across her pussy in prolonged sniffs... her final restraint snapped.

"Nnghhh... fuckkk..."—her voice splintered hoarsely, hips bucking brazenly. Fingers clenched viciously in my hair—yanking desperately—smashing my face against her lace-clad cunt while she ground her hips onto my mouth and nose atop her pussy.

Wide my mouth opened, engulfing drenched lace and plump lips together—fabric fused with skin—tongue pressing hard over her clit through the flimsy veil.

Instantly her flavor burst forth—salty-sweet, dense, syrupy, desire leaking steadily onto my tongue amid fierce pulls, cheeks caving in ravenous suction.

She bucked wildly—"Hahhh... ahhhh...!"—cries fracturing into shrill, desperate mewls echoing softly off glassy walls.

Useless now the dress, rucked past her waist; higher she perched—squatting atop the desk, feet braced wide on glass, thighs obscenely flared, rear suspended just over the top.

Across her mound, black panties strained near rupture—lace sodden to near-invisibility, molded to each crease. Everything lay bare to my gaze: puffy outer lips gaping open, inner ones dark pink and bloated, gleaming, clit throbbing against lace like an extra pulse.

Right before me, a new bead of slickness swelled and permeated the fabric.

Bare thighs seized by my hands—dress concealing nothing—digits plunging into plush, shuddering meat. Blazing skin, slick from arousal trails in slender, glossy streams.

Hard I squeezed—molding upward till palms cradled naked ass undersides. No cloth barrier.

Simply scorching, velvety skin overflowing my grasp. Deeper I dug—parting her broader—hoisting lightly so her leaking pussy mashed firmer to my mouth.

Thumbs traced thigh-ass junction, sensing muscles twitch and spasm beneath.

Vicious and starving, I sucked anew—hauling wet lace and engorged clit wholly inside.

Through the material, my tongue whipped madly, swirling her clit in compact, merciless loops. Thick, heated gushes of her nectar swamped my tongue—irresistible, tangy-sweet, sheathing my mouth, trailing down my jaw.

Greedily I gulped it down, rumbling profoundly into her core, sending throbs quaking through her depths like deep bass.

Both hands clamped her naked ass fiercer—fingers burying till skin blanched around them—roughly massaging, parting cheeks apart, elevating hips to smear her drenched pussy over my face in lewd, languid orbits.

Shamelessly she humped my face—hips tracing frantic figure-eights—moans escalating, incoherent, shattered—"mmmmmhhh... nnghhh... hahhh...!"

—each cry pitching shriller, wilder.

Violently quaking, thighs locked my ears; hair wrenched till tears stung from pain. Hot surges of fresh slick pierced the lace—I sucked fiercer, tongue shoving cloth into her cleft, relishing each throb, each gush as she hurtled toward climax on my mouth.

Faintly ominous, the glass desk groaned beneath her. Down the corridor, an elevator chimed like an alert.

Heavy loomed the peril: a guard patrol, a prying aide, a stray open door, and the whole media conglomerate would witness the Empress’s sister squatting atop her desk, legs akimbo, leaking, rutting her sopping cunt on a man's face as he savored her like sacred elixir.

Care meant nothing to her.

None to me either.

One final profound breath—nose plunged into soaked lace, lungs saturated with her primal, musky essence—then I vacuumed her clit via panties once more, hard without mercy, driving her moans to fractured, begging wails as her form teetered on utter collapse.