Villain's Breeding System: Evolving 999+ Harem into an SSS-Rank Legion-Chapter 134- Darling...Be Genlte

His eyes went wide. Then wider. The kind of widening that precedes something structural failing.

Veronica crossed the ground between them in four steps. Slow. Her hips swayed with each one, the motion of a woman who has decided this is how she moves now, who has stopped containing it.

Her eyes were on Raven’s cock — hanging heavy and wet with the evidence of Elena, blood and seed and rain running from it.

She sank to her knees.

In the mud.

In the cold wet grass of the family cemetery.

In front of her dead husband’s grave and her kneeling son, Veronica Dalton went to her knees with the ease of something returning to a position it has decided belongs to it.

Her hand wrapped around his cock.

She looked up at him.

She looked at him the way she’d looked at him at the pool — the specific, private look of two people who share a context that others in the room don’t have access to — and then she looked at his cock, wet and limp and painted with her son’s fiancée.

Her tongue came out.

She licked.

One long, slow drag. From the base to the head. Taking all of it — the rain, the blood, Elena’s arousal, his seed — onto her tongue without hesitation or ceremony. The sound she made was the sound of a woman who finds something genuinely good.

"Mmmhh—"

Victor made a sound.

It started as his name for her — mother — and became something else halfway through, the syllables dissolving, his voice cracking along a line that had been put under too much pressure from too many directions and had simply given way.

She opened her mouth wide.

Her lips wrapped around the head of his cock, her cheeks hollowing, her throat moving as she pulled him in. Her breasts swayed with the motion, the nipples dragging against the cold air, the flesh of them jiggling as she worked. Her red hair fell around her face and the rain ran through it.

She sucked.

With intent. With the full, deliberate attention of a woman applying herself to something she’s decided to do properly. Her throat bulged slightly. Her jaw stretched around the girth of him. The wet sounds of it carried in the quiet of the rain.

Victor watched his mother.

Watched her sitting in the mud of his father’s cemetery.

Watched her mouth working around the cock that had just taken his fiancée’s virginity above his head.

His mouth moved.

The words came out in a whisper. Just two.

"You motherfucker."

The rain fell on everything.

The infinity pool’s too-vivid blue was somewhere behind the walls. Alexander Dalton was in his coffin three feet away. The silk restraints from Victor’s own suitcase trailed from his mother’s wrists into the wet grass.

Raven looked down at Veronica.

His hand moved into her wet red hair.

Ruffled it once.

"A motherfucker, huh?"

Raven looked down at Veronica. Still ruffling her hair. His eyes moved sideways to Victor with the expression of a man sharing an observation with someone in the room.

"Did you hear what your son wants me to become?"

Veronica’s mouth was still wrapped around him. She hummed — a low, vibrating sound that ran through his cock — and her eyes moved sideways to Victor the same way his had. Mother and the man she was kneeling for, both looking at her son, sharing the joke.

Victor’s face did something that a face shouldn’t be able to do.

Veronica pulled back slowly.

The suction broke with a soft, wet sound. She straightened — not standing, still on her knees, but her posture changing, her spine lengthening, her head coming up. Her breasts moved with the shift, swaying heavy and pale in the grey rain, the nipples dark and hard from the cold.

Her hand went into the pocket of the dress she’d removed.

She produced a vibrator.

Small. Compact. The kind of thing that fits comfortably in a hand. But used — the silicone worn slightly at the head from use, the surface not the factory-smooth of something new. Victor’s suitcase contents were still scattered around them in the mud and grass and this had come from that suitcase, one of several, Victor’s own inventory.

Veronica looked at it once.

Then she reached down between her own thighs.

She was already wet. The evidence of it on her fingers when she angled the vibrator and pressed it against her entrance — her lips spreading around the head, her jaw tightening slightly as she pushed it slowly inward, inch by inch, the small device burying itself inside her with the specific unhurried thoroughness of a woman who knows what she’s doing to herself.

"Hnn—"

Her breath released. Her thighs pressed briefly together, then relaxed.

She looked up at Raven.

"Please take whatever you want, darling." Her voice was entirely level. The boardroom voice, the one she used for facts. Her hips shifted slightly as the vibrator found its position. "Though I would prefer you check the hole that hasn’t been ruined yet."

A pause.

"Rather than the loose pussy of this bitch."

She said this bitch with the specific detachment of a woman indicating a category rather than a person. Not looking at Elena. Just — categorizing.

Elena, still on the ground, dress open, mud on her hair, his seed still warm between her thighs, looked at Veronica with her mouth open.

She said nothing.

The vibrator clicked on.

Veronica’s expression didn’t change but her hand found the wet grass and pressed flat against it for balance, her weight shifting forward slightly on her knees, her lower lip pressing together once before she controlled it.

"Mph—"

Victor watched his mother press a vibrator inside herself in his father’s cemetery in the rain. His expression was the expression of a building three seconds after the load-bearing wall has been removed — still standing, technically, but nothing holding it in the shape it was supposed to be.

"Mo—" The syllable left his throat. Got no further.

Raven snapped his fingers.

Victor’s eyelids vanished.

Not painfully — or not in the way a wound is painful, no blood, no raw flesh, just — gone, the way things went when Raven decided they should go, the lids simply ceasing to be a feature of Victor’s face, leaving his eyes wide and exposed and unable to close against anything he was about to see.

Victor screamed.

"WHAT — WHAT DID YOU — MY EYES — I CAN’T—"

"Come on, man." Raven’s voice was patient. He was looking at Victor the way a teacher looks at a student who hasn’t been paying attention. "You know why I’m doing this to you."

"YOU BASTARD — PUT THEM BACK — PUT THEM—"

"Do you know why?"

"I’LL KILL YOU — I SWEAR — I WILL—"

Raven turned away.

He looked down at Veronica.

At her back — the line of it, bare and wet, her red hair falling over her shoulder, the silk restraints loose at her wrists trailing into the mud.

Her ass, spread slightly from the position she was in, her knees in the muddy grass, the angle of her hips tilted back just enough.

His hand found the back of her neck.

Pressed down.

Her upper body went forward — caught herself on her hands, bent over, the position of it presenting her exactly as intended.

Her breasts hung beneath her, swaying as she adjusted her balance, the nipples dragging against the cold air.

The vibrator buzzed inside her, the small intermittent tremor of it visible in the slight hitching of her hips.

He took his cock in his hand.

Pressed the head against her anal entrance.

Veronica felt it. Stiffened once — not in protest, in preparation, the full-body brace of a woman who knows what’s coming and is organizing herself around it.

"Darling—" Her voice came out with careful control. "Slowly. Please."