Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs-Chapter 43: Risk-Reward 2 (R-18)

Just the tip.

That’s all it took.

Her body reacted like I’d shocked her soul straight through her spine. She arched hard, back curving like a bow pulled tight, head thrown back, mouth open in a scream that never quite made it out. One hand slammed against the shelf behind her, fingers scrabbling for something solid. The other dug into my shoulder, clutching like she was drowning—and I was the only thing keeping her from slipping under.

She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. It was all sensation now. All heat and pressure and chaos.

I didn’t rush it. I wanted her to feel every second. Every inch. My pace was slow—intentional, demanding—dragging her into the deep end of something she wouldn’t come back from.

Her body clenched hard, trying to push me out even as everything about her begged me to stay. Too much. Too big. Too soon. She tried to retreat, thighs tightening in instinct. But I didn’t let her.

My grip on her hips went firm, grounding, inescapable. She was mine now—and I wasn’t giving her an inch to run.

"No running," I growled in her ear, low and dangerous, my breath hot against the flushed side of her face. "You begged for this. Don’t act like you forgot."

She sobbed into my neck, voice breaking, breathless, whispering my name over and over again like a prayer. Or maybe a curse. Either way, I was the answer.

I moved faster, pulling her with me back and forth. I tightened my grip on her hips, pulling her closer with a low growl vibrating in my throat. My hands pressed hard into her skin, anchoring her to me as I controlled every inch of movement. She arched her back reflexively, pressing her heat even tighter against me, the contact almost electric.

Grr... thump thump

She gasped sharply, the breath catching in her throat like a sudden sharp intake of air. Her chest heaved unevenly as she struggled to keep quiet, every inhale shaky and raw. Her lips parted for just a moment before snapping shut, trying to swallow back the moan that threatened to spill.

"Hhhh-haaah~~~..." sharp intake.

I felt it—the moment she stopped fighting. Her muscles went soft, trembling but loose, that last layer of resistance finally burning off in the heat between us. She surrendered in full. No more hesitation. No more trying to hold it together.

Just raw, desperate submission.

That was the moment I smiled—slow, dark, feral.

Because now? Now she was mine in every way.

Her heat sealed around me like it had been made for this—tight and warm, velvet pressure wrapped around steel. I buried myself deep, inch by inch, until I couldn’t go any further. Until I could feel her heartbeat through the tip. Until we were fused, no space between us.

She trembled in my lap, forehead pressed to mine, gasping with wide, unfocused eyes. Her nails clutched my shirt like it was the last thing holding her to this world.

We didn’t move. We couldn’t.

She couldn’t make a sound. Not with people just aisles away. Not with this silence stretching like glass between us—one sharp breath away from breaking.

She whimpered softly, biting her lip so hard the skin almost broke. Her body shuddered against mine, unable to hold back the rising tide of sensation. Her breath hitched repeatedly, small desperate sounds breaking free despite her efforts to stay silent.

"Mmph... hhmmp~~"

I clenched my jaw tight, forcing my own groan back down into my chest. My hand braced the floor. My other arm held her hip steady, helping her body process everything I’d given her.

"Fuck," I hissed under my breath, voice shaking. "You’re so warm. Too perfect."

She whimpered. Bit down hard on her wrist. Trying to muffle the sound, trying not to fall apart—but she was already halfway there.

I rolled my hips—slow, controlled, dragging her closer.

Her whole body jolted.

Another sound slipped out of her, too loud.

My hands slid along her sides, fingers tracing lazy, heated paths down the curves of her body. I could feel every tremble beneath my touch, every small shiver that ran like wildfire through her. Her skin was burning under my hands, alive and hypersensitive as if on fire.

I moved fast, hand over her mouth, my lips pressed to her ear as I rocked her again.

We froze.

Somewhere close, someone laughed. A shuffle of footsteps. Books being stacked.

Way too close.

We didn’t breathe. We didn’t blink. I was still inside her—deep, full—and every second ticked by like a countdown to disaster.

Then—quietly—I moved again.

Just a tiny roll of her hips, guiding her through it, drawing soft gasps against my palm. Her eyes fluttered shut. Her thighs quivered around me.

And through it all, she didn’t stop. Didn’t run.

She took it all. Every inch. Every motion.

My good girl.

Only the slick sounds of our connection whispered through the quiet. The hum of fluorescent lights. The creak of the shelf under our weight. My breath found her ear again—soft, hushed, but deadly.

"You’re doing so good, baby..."

I rocked into her deeper.

"So tight... like you were made for this..."

She sobbed into my hand, tears rolling down her cheeks as the pressure built up inside her with nowhere to go. No moans. No cries. Just broken gasps and ragged breaths.

She trembled violently, shoulders shaking as the sensations overwhelmed her completely. Her breathing was ragged, each breath a shaky gasp that hitched with emotion. She clenched and unclenched her fists AND pussy, the struggle to stay quiet written all over her face.

"...Hhhaaah~~" She was losing herself in it. And I was barely holding on.

Every instinct screamed at me to lose control. To take her. To mark her. But I held the line.

Not because I couldn’t break it.

Because I wanted her to know exactly who was in charge.

Her rhythm synced with mine—slow, trembling, steady. She was worshiping me with every breath, every inch her body gave.

This wasn’t just sex. It was devotion.

She clung to me like I was her salvation.

And when I knew she was at the edge—right there on the cusp of falling apart and come for daddy—I leaned in close and gave her what she needed.

I rocked my hips slow, pushing deeper with deliberate pressure. Every movement was calculated, each shift causing her to tighten and release in waves. Her pussy muscles clenched around me, the subtle pull of her pussy urging my cock further, deeper, until I could feel her every part of her pussy clenching and trying to siver as she came undone.

Thrum thrum... pahhh pahhh~~

A single word, breathed into her mouth like a vow.

"Mine."

And just like that... she shattered.

She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, head falling back as she lost herself in the waves of sensation. Her fingers dug into my shoulders, nails leaving small crescent marks as she held on for dear life. Her breath was a frantic rhythm, fast and shallow, like she was drowning in feeling.

"Hhhaah... sssshiit, Peter~~~"

*

Madison collapsed into me, limp and glowing, her face buried in my neck, body trembling in the aftermath of something she wasn’t ready for—but couldn’t stop chasing. Her moans were gone, replaced with soft, shaky breaths. Her skin was hypersensitive. Her grip, loose but needy.

Madison Torres had just been claimed in a dusty corner of a public library and looked like she’d touched heaven and gotten electrocuted by it all at once.

She didn’t say a word.

Just curled into my chest while I held her—my arms locked around her body like she was fragile. Like she wasn’t the demon girl from earlier, but someone soft and scared and entirely mine.

The power that had been pumping through me—the Dark Lord presence that had made her melt—started to fade. My voice softened. The control slipped from dominant to protective.

And underneath all of it? There I was. Just Peter.

Regular, tired, slightly overwhelmed Peter.

I brushed her hair off her face and whispered, "Hey... you good?"

She didn’t speak—just kissed the center of my chest, right over my heart. One soft, reverent press that made something shift in my chest.

She wasn’t just submitting to the powerful version of me anymore.

She wanted all of it. All of me.

The system shimmered to life, pale pink light flashing in my vision.

[System Reward: Public Risk Chain Achieved]

Activity Breakdown:

Lip Kiss: +50 SP

Demon Succubus Cosplay Roleplay: +140 SP

Public Risk Sex: +490 SP

Light BDSM (verbal control, emotional restraint and Dominance): +300 SP

Orgasm Control (muffled sounds, denial): +120 SP

Full Intercourse (Public Zone): +700 SP

Emotional Bonding (Post-Intimacy): +200 SP

[Total: +2000 SP]

Bonus Achievement Unlocked: "She Belongs to Me"

Successfully mark a partner as loyal to both forms

+500 SP

+100 original SP

Final Total: 2600 SP]

That’s $260,000.

One round in a library, and I’d just made more than most grown adults earn in years.

Supernatural game was too strong.

I blinked the interface away and pulled her a little closer. My fingers stroked her back, tracing slow patterns as her breathing steadied.

Finally, she looked up at me, voice hoarse.

"Is... is that what being claimed feels like?"

I smiled and kissed her forehead. "You okay?"

"I feel like I got hit by a truck and kissed by a god," she laughed weakly.

Honestly? That might be the most accurate description I’d ever heard.

"I’ll take that as a win," I murmured.

Then she said it. With tears still in her eyes. With a voice that sounded like truth.

"I’m yours. No matter which version of you I’m talking to."

I believed her.

She wasn’t just giving herself to the guy who took control.

She wanted the whole multiverse.

And she was dead serious about it.

I helped her dress—my shirt over her ruined costume, covering her flushed skin like a quiet claim. The succubus was gone now, and what was left?

Was mine.

Madison Torres.

Ruined. Rewired. Reborn in a library aisle.

And as she buttoned up, and I felt myself settle back into my regular self...

...a soft gasp echoed from behind the shelf.

We froze.

Shit.

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