Supreme Spouse System.-Chapter 109: Rain, Silk, Desire [Part-4] [R-18]

Rain, Silk, Desire [Part-4] [R-18]

Slurp... lick... mmm...

Sounds of wet filled the air, accompanied by low moans and the distant patter of the storm outside the window. Leon looked down, half-lidded eyes drinking in the view of both sisters pleasuring him with desperate focus.

He’d conditioned his body in the past few weeks, learning control even under the most extreme circumstances—but even that had its boundaries. His cock twitched, constricting at the base, an indication both Syra and Kyra, both had to be aware of it; his cock throbbed and pulsed slightly, and Syra reacted reflexively, pulling him deeper, her throat opening up to accept him almost to the root, while Kyra’s mouth clamped gently over his balls, sucking and stroking with increasing urgency.

"I’m coming!" Leon groaned; his voice thick with need.

He couldn’t resist his possessive nature, and when he caught Syra’s pleading gaze, he knew she wanted it just as fiercely as he wanted to give it.

"Drink everything, my siren," he commanded, gripping Syra’s head with both hands as he thrust deep into her throat, as he spilled himself inside her.

With a guttural groan, Leon’s body bucked in release. The initial surge of pleasure filled Syra’s throat, her eyes flying shut as she wrapped her arms around his thighs and drank it all in. Her mind reeled in lustful thoughts —I love this so much! How I love, love, love it. his dick too much! Fuck! Why does he taste so good?! Her cheeks caved in as she attempted to take it all.

Leon wanted Syra to drink it all—but his eyes caught Kyra’s, who had not ceased sucking his balls even as he came inside Syra. Her eyes met his, with desire, and in the instant, he made a decision.

He pulled his dick out of Syra’s mouth in the middle of release with some effort. Her lips lingered behind, pursuing him with a gentle gasp. "Darling—nnh—don’t stop, I wasn’t done..."

Leon’s voice was harsh but warm. "You’ll get more later, love. But now." He looked at Kyra, who was transfixed, lips open, eyes wide with hope and starvation.

"Here you are, dear Kyra," he whispered.

Kyra didn’t waste a moment. She formed her lips over his tip, eyes closing as the rest of the release landed on her tongue—warm, sweet, scented, raw. A low moan escaped her as she gulped greedily, her head bobbing up and down, milking him for all he was worth.

Even as the climax passed, she continued—lips clamped around him, tongue darting with loving, worshipful devotion. Only when he sighed softly and gently withdrew did she finally let him go.

Even as his climax faded, Kyra continued—her lips clamped around him, her tongue darting with loving, worshipful devotion. She licked and sucked, pursuing every residual drop until he sighed softly and gently withdrew.

With a soft plop, Kyra finally let him slide out, a gossamer thread of saliva hanging from her lips. She licked them slowly, relishing the flavor, her eyes hazy with heat. Her lips were puffy, wet from the exertion, but her eyes flashed with a soft flame. Bending towards him, she planted one last, soft kiss on his tip—as if giving thanks.

Syra stood over there, her own fire burning in the back of her eyes—part jealous, part proud. She is so gorgeous like that. I can’t even get angry. Her thighs were pressed together, resolve burning. Next time, I’m getting him to finish in me.

Leon gazed down at them both—hair a mess, cheeks flushed, lips bitten from kissing—and knew without a shred of doubt this night had only just started.

He hardly had time to turn and praise Kyra when Syra pushed forward like a spark to set off a flame. Softly she wept, and she hurled herself into his arms, sending them both tumbling back onto the bed. Her mouth clamped onto his—starving, hot, and completely unhesitant.

Leon caught her off guard with a low grunt of shock, but his hands acted on autopilot—one slipping under the slit in her nightgown. His fingers curled around the smooth curve of her ass, squeezing hard as a muffled moan slipped out from between her lips. Syra kissed him with reckless abandon, hot and hungry.

Leon gazed down at the two of them—hair disheveled, cheeks rosy, lips kiss-bruised—and knew without a moment’s hesitation that this night was far from over.

Before he could even glance over to praise Kyra, Syra burst forward like a spark landing on a flame. With a gentle, beseeching cry—"Darling"—she flung herself into his arms, both of them tumbling backward onto the bed.

Her mouth clashed with his in a hot, ravenous kiss—hot and unashamedly bold.

Leon grunted at a low level, in surprise, but his hands moved instinctively: one hand fell into place firmly in the back of her neck slipped under the slit in her nightgown, and the other slipped under the slit in her nightgown. fingers closing around the exposed curve of her ass and pulling slightly.

A stifled moan broke from Syra’s lips as she kissed him with wild abandon—fierce, ravenous, and totally uncontrolled.

Her thigh came down, rubbing against his stomach. In between passionate kisses, she bit his lower lip by mistake—teeth digging just deep enough to hurt—and he issued a quick hiss, the metallic taste of blood hanging on his tongue. But he didn’t let go; instead, he intensified the kiss, reciprocating her hot passion.

Syra didn’t let up ––

She kissed him deeper, devouring him like air itself, as if each breath without him had been agony. Her green hair fell in silken waves down his shoulders, her breath hot and labored against his skin. As she finally broke away, gasping, her eyes glowed with unfiltered, raw desire.

"I don’t think I can hold back anymore," she breathed, voice shaking with need.

Leon smirked; blood still wet on his lip. "Who said you needed to control yourself, my wild darling?" is voice was low, rough with want, igniting a fire between them.

With smooth strength, he moved, rolling her under him. She opened to it with a delighted gasp, arms embracing his back, drawing him nearer. Now with a knee on either side of her, he sat back onto his heels—his body completely bare, hard and muscular, radiantly masculine in the dancing candlelight.

His fingers worked with reverence, tracing the edge of her nightgown. In a slow smile, he caught her eyes—she met it with a fierce, brazen smile of her own. And then, gently and slowly, he pulled the fabric up, luxuriating in each inch of skin revealed.

Then came the soft curve of her thighs—smooth, white, glistening faintly with sweat and heat. His fingertips outlined her skin, and she shivered—no longer from chill, but from the sweet rush of his touch. Leon didn’t stop; his smile deepened as he inched the nightgown up slowly, the fabric rustling against her body

As the fabric moved past her thigh, his eyes dropped between her spread thighs.

There, buried in the heat of her flesh, the delicate, rose-colored velvet folds throbbed softly—tensing at the shock of cold kiss and the thrust of his burning gaze Beading with her own love fluid, they glittered like candlelit silk.

Leon’s breath caught. His eyes went dark, wonder and starvation constricting in his chest as he sucked in the view—but his hands didn’t cease. With plodding, deliberate purpose, he kept drawing her gown higher.

Syra quivered under his touch, a luscious heat flowing in her veins as more and more of her flesh was exposed. The gentle curve of her hips, the delicate hollow of her waist, the tiny hollow of her navel—every inch of her exposed felt like a secret shared. His fingers stroked her softly, almost worshipfully, as if committing her to memory by the senses.

Her breath caught. She looked at him—her big, glassy, lips open in a soundless, quivering greeting

The nightgown kept crawling up, exposing more flesh until her entire breasts were bared—plump and firm, nipples dark pink, puckered with excitement.

Leon froze, his own breath catching at the stunning view before him.

Syra stretched out below him, her body completely exposed—except for the thin material of the gown still slipping across her collarbones.

Slowly, almost reverently, he picked up the final bit of the silk, slipping the gown over her head in one clean stroke.

Syra stretched out under him, completely exposed now, except for the gown still lying on her collarbones.

He picked up the final bit of the silk in gentle fingers and slid the gown over her head in one clean stroke before he tossed it aside.

It landed softly on the floor beside the bed.

Now naked beneath him, she glowed in the soft amber light—flushed, breathless, and stunning.

Leon’s hands moved reverently along her sides, his voice low and full of awe. "You’re... divine."

Leon’s hands roamed reverently along her sides. "You’re... divine," he murmured, his voice thick with awe and desire.

Syra’s lips curved into a soft, shy smile, her eyes brightening as she caught his gaze lingering over her body.

Why shouldn’t she be? The man she adored was drinking her in, loving every contour and shape like a living painting.

Her belly was filled with a waltz of butterflies, hot and charged, as a soft happiness grew within her.