My Lust System: I Inherited The Sin Of Lust And His Three Wives-Chapter 109: Duke Haborym Invades Again! [+18]

Clara pushed Damian down into the leather office chair, the wheels creaking as it rolled back slightly against the desk. She straddled him without hesitation, her panties shoved aside, her pussy slick and ready from the arousal that had at th park. His cock, still semi-hard from her earlier attentions, stiffened fully as she positioned herself above him, gripping the base to guide the thick head to her entrance.

She sank down onto him in one swift motion, her wet folds parting around his shaft, taking every inch until her ass rested against his thighs. A sharp gasp escaped her lips at the stretch, his girth filling her completely, pressing against her inner walls. Damian’s hands clamped onto her hips, fingers digging into her flesh as he held her steady for a moment, feeling her clench around him.

Clara didn’t wait. She lifted her hips and slammed back down, setting a brutal pace right from the start. Her thighs flexed with each rise and fall, the chair rocking beneath them as she rode him hard, her pussy gripping his cock tightly with every thrust. The sound of skin slapping skin echoed in the quiet office, mixed with her breathy moans and his grunts of pleasure.

Damian’s head fell back against the chair, his eyes locked on where they joined as her juices coating his length, making it glisten as she bounced faster. He thrusted up to meet her, driving deeper, the tip of his cock hitting her cervix with each upward buck.

"God, you’re so fucking tight," he rasped, one hand sliding up to squeeze her breast through her shirt, pinching the hardened nipple.

She leaned forward, bracing her hands on his shoulders for leverage, her hips grinding in circles before resuming the relentless up-and-down motion. Sweat beaded on her skin, her pussy walls fluttering around him as the friction built with her clit rubbing against his pubic bone with every descent.

Clara’s breaths came in short pants, her body demanding more. The chair squeaked in protest under the force of her movements, but she didn’t slow. Damian’s balls tightened, the pressure coiling low in his gut as her pussy milked him with each plunge. He gripped her ass, spreading her cheeks slightly, feeling the way her body trembled.

She rode him even harder, her thighs burning from the effort, slamming down until his cock was buried to the hilt over and over. Her own climax hovered close, but she focused on Damain, clenching her inner muscles to squeeze his shaft rhythmically.

Damian’s hips jerked erratically now, his control slipping as the heat built to a breaking point. With a deep groan, he came, his cock pulsing inside her as thick ropes of cum shot out, flooding her pussy.

The first spurt coated her walls, , followed by more until he was pumping her full, the excess starting to leak out around his base. Clara kept moving through it, riding out his orgasm, feeling the warmth spread deep inside her until it overflowed, dripping down his balls and onto the chair.

She slowed finally, grinding against him to milk every last drop, her pussy overflowing with his seed. Damian’s hands loosened on her hips, watching her breath heavily as she stayed seated on him, the mess between them slick and satisfying to see.

"Don’t worry about it, we can get some Plan B on our way back," she muttered into his ear.

Damian calmly shook his head, his expression steady as he replied.

"No, you don’t have to do that anymore."

Clara straightened abruptly, her eyes locking onto his face as confusion spread across her features. She searched him carefully, as if trying to peel back layers and find something hidden beneath his calm exterior. When nothing came, she asked plainly.

"What does that mean?"

"It means I want to fill you up every time, and I don’t want you taking contraceptives anymore."

"And if I get pregnant?"

"Then we will have a child together. Don’t you want that?"

Clara was completely thrown off by his answer. She stared at him, suspicion flickering behind her gaze as her thoughts raced. Was this a test? A way to see if she would try to replace his wives, or was he being genuine?

She couldn’t tell, even after several seconds of searching his face.

"Are your wives aware of this?" she asked carefully.

"You don’t want to have my baby?" Damian countered, his tone calm, almost too calm.

Clara’s gaze faltered. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out. She stood at the crossroads between what she believed was right and what she deeply desired, and in that moment, she couldn’t choose.

Damian smiled faintly and reached out, gently patting her head in reassurance.

"Don’t think too much about it. Just do what you want with it."

Clara nodded slowly, though she still said nothing. She adjusted herself quietly, pulling down her skirt, buttoning her shirt, smoothing out the creases as if grounding herself through the motion. Damian followed suit, zipping up his pants and adjusting his tie with practiced ease.

But just as she finished, Clara’s body suddenly went slack.

Her knees buckled.

She collapsed.

Before her body could hit the ground, Damian was already moving. In an instant, he was beside her, catching her effortlessly and pulling her into his arms.

Then a familiar sound rang out in his mind.

It had been silent for a while.

Too long.

[Warning, Silent Night Skill Detected!]

[Warning, Isolation Skill Detected!]

[Warning, Duke Haborym Is Invading The Realm!]

The notifications flooded in one after another, sharp and urgent, echoing through his consciousness as the world itself began to shift.

The air grew heavy.

A crimson hue bled into reality, spreading across the surroundings like a stain seeping into cloth. Damian’s eyes lifted as transparent, pentagon-shaped plates formed one after another in the sky, layering seamlessly into a vast, invisible barrier that sealed the space around them.

His gaze followed upward.

The sun itself was changing.

Its golden brilliance dimmed, twisting into something darker, something unnatural.

"In broad daylight?" Damian muttered, genuine surprise flashing across his face.

Demons operating at night made sense. That was their domain, their comfort.

But this?

This defied everything.

There was no way such an event could unfold in the open without the world noticing. And yet, the barrier stood firm, isolating this space from everything beyond it.

His eyes dropped back to Clara.

She lay in his arms, completely unconscious, her breathing soft and even as if nothing was wrong. As if the world itself wasn’t being rewritten around her.

Without hesitation, Damian carried her over to the three-seater couch and gently laid her down. He adjusted her position carefully, making sure she was comfortable, his movements slow and deliberate.

Then he knelt beside her.

For a brief moment, the chaos outside ceased to matter.

His hand rose, brushing softly against her cheek as he stared at her peaceful face.

"Sleep tight, baby girl... I’ll handle this in no time."

His voice was calm.

Too calm.

But his eyes betrayed him.

A violent, dangerous glint flickered within them, sharp and cold like a blade drawn in the dark.