10x Rewards: Conquering Women and Taming Beauties - Chapter 76: Mother loves being Dominated (21+ - )

Chapter 76: Mother loves being Dominated (21+ Chapter)

Lydia lay sprawled on the bed, legs spread far apart from each other. Other parts of her body were covered by the moon-light blue duvet, leaving just the sight of her bare, neatly trimmed pussy.

She had most likely shaved while he was away, Aristarkh analysed.

Now, however, wasn’t the time for analysis. He was already throbbing hard and aching, the image of his mother replaying in his mind.

The explicit sight hit him like a cursed wave.

Lydia’s pussy was glistening under the soft glow of the cursed lanterns, the smooth pink folds slightly parted and already slick with her own arousal. A small patch of trimmed silver-blonde hair crowned the top, neat and inviting.

Her thighs were toned and pale, spread wide in obvious invitation.

Aristarkh’s cock twitched violently in his pants.

The earlier tension with his mother surged back full force.

His mother’s cold, seductive body, those full breasts straining against black silk, the long legs exposed by high slits, the faint wetness he had almost caused, merged violently with the explicit view before him.

The forbidden contrast only made his blood burn hotter.

He kicked the door shut behind him and crossed the room in three strides, shedding his outer robe as he went.

His eyes, still carrying faint traces of crimson from the mountain, raked over Lydia’s body.

The duvet had slipped lower, revealing the underside of her full breasts and the hard peaks of her nipples.

Without a word, he climbed onto the bed, grabbing her thighs and spreading them even wider.

Lydia let out a soft gasp, but her expression remained eager.

Aristarkh lowered his head and dragged his tongue slowly up her slit, tasting her sweetness.

She was soaked.

He circled her clit with deliberate strokes before sucking it between his lips.

“Mmm… yes,” Lydia moaned, her hips rolling up to meet his mouth. Her fingers threaded into his hair as pleasure rippled through her.

He devoured her with single-minded intensity, sliding two fingers inside her tight, wet heat and pumping them while his tongue worked her clit.

The wet, obscene sounds of his fingers thrusting into her pussy filled the room.

But even as he feasted on Lydia, his mind kept flashing back to Elizabeth.

He imagined it was his mother beneath him.

In his fantasy, it was Elizabeth’s flawless pale body sprawled on the bed, her long silver hair fanned out like liquid moonlight, her glacial silver eyes half-lidded with unwilling pleasure.

He pictured the thin black silk robe hiked up around her waist, her full breasts exposed, dusky pink nipples hard and begging.

He imagined slamming into her tight, forbidden pussy, making that cold, emotionless face finally crack as she took her own son’s cock.

The taboo image made his cock throb painfully.

He pulled back suddenly, stripping off the rest of his clothes. His thick cock sprang free, veined and rock-hard, the head already leaking precum.

Lydia’s eyes widened with lust.

“Turn over,” he ordered, voice rough.

Lydia obeyed, getting on her hands and knees, ass raised high.

Aristarkh gripped her hips and slammed into her in one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt in her tight, velvety walls.

“Ahh…” Lydia cried out, her back arching.

But in his mind, it was Elizabeth moaning.

He imagined his cold, untouchable mother bent over like this, her perfect ass raised, that sheer black silk robe bunched uselessly around her hips, her long silver hair spilling across the sheets.

He pictured those full breasts hanging heavy beneath her, nipples hard from the cold mountain air and forbidden arousal.

He imagined the way her tight, forbidden cunt would clench around his cock as he claimed her, making her glacial silver eyes widen in shock and dark pleasure.

The fantasy drove him wild.

He started thrusting hard and deep, pounding into Lydia with terrifying ferocity.

Each powerful stroke made her pussy gush around his shaft, her juices coating his balls.

He reached around and rubbed her clit roughly, making her moan louder.

“Fuck… so tight,” he growled, but the words were meant for the woman in his head.

He grabbed a fistful of Lydia’s hair and pulled her head back, arching her spine as he railed her even harder.

In his imagination, it was Elizabeth’s silver hair wrapped around his fist, her crimson lips parted in a silent cry as her son fucked her senseless on the mountain pavilion.

He slapped Lydia’s ass sharply, watching the red mark bloom, but he saw Elizabeth’s pale skin turning pink under his hand.

The wet slapping sounds grew louder, her pussy gushing as she neared the edge.

He leaned down, lips brushing Lydia’s ear.

“You’re such a good little slut for me,” he whispered, but his mind replaced it with:

Mother… taking your son’s cock so deep… getting so wet for me…

Lydia came hard with a choked scream, her pussy spasming and milking his cock in rhythmic waves.

Her juices squirted slightly around his shaft, soaking the sheets.

Aristarkh didn’t stop. He kept pounding through her orgasm, chasing his own release while the image of Elizabeth burned brighter, her silver eyes glazed, her full breasts bouncing, her tight forbidden pussy squeezing him as she submitted.

With a guttural groan, he pulled out at the last second and flipped Lydia onto her back.

He straddled her chest, stroking his slick cock furiously.

Lydia opened her mouth obediently, tongue extended.

Aristarkh came with a deep moan, thick ropes of cum painting her tongue, her lips, and her heaving breasts. Some landed on her chin and dripped down her neck.

Lydia swallowed what landed in her mouth, then used her fingers to scoop the rest and lick it clean, her violet eyes hazy with satisfaction.

Aristarkh collapsed beside her, chest heaving, the forbidden fantasy still echoing in his mind.

Even after releasing, the ache for his mother hadn’t fully subsided.

Lydia curled against him, tracing lazy patterns on his chest with her cum-covered fingers.

“You seem… distracted tonight,” she murmured softly.

He didn’t answer immediately.

His mind was still on the mountain pavilion.

On silver hair and black silk.

On the cold, devastating beauty he was determined to conquer.

Tomorrow he would visit Rosaline as planned.

But the real prize waited at the summit.

He closed his eyes, letting sleep claim him, the dark, taboo images feeding the burning ambition growing inside him.

The next morning dawned crisp and clear.

Aristarkh woke with fresh determination and a renewed throb between his legs.

His body felt refreshed, though a familiar ache of desire still lingered low in his belly.

Lydia was still asleep beside him, her naked form curled trustingly against his side, one leg draped over his thigh. A faint trail of dried cum was visible on her inner thigh.

He carefully disentangled himself, not wanting to wake her yet.

After a quick bath to wash away the remnants of last night, he dressed in a simple but elegant black tunic and trousers.

His thoughts turned to Rosaline.

He had unfinished business with the commander of war.

The teasing promise she had given him yesterday, her soaked pussy, the way her body had responded so eagerly before they were interrupted, still burned in his mind.

Today, he would collect.

Aristarkh left his room quietly and made his way through the Targaryen clan’s grand corridors toward Rosaline’s private quarters.

The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of mountain pine.

Servants bowed respectfully as he passed, but he paid them little attention.

When he reached her door, he knocked twice, firm and confident.

The door opened almost immediately.

Rosaline stood there, dressed in a loose white robe that clung to her curves in the morning light.

Her red hair was slightly tousled, as if she had just woken up, and her sharp red eyes softened the moment they landed on him.

A small, knowing smile curved her lips.

“You really came,” she said, stepping aside to let him in. “I wondered if you would wait longer.”

Aristarkh stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The room smelled of her, warm spices and faint floral notes. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, bathing everything in a golden glow.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by Web Novel