Harem Master: Seduction System

Chapter 370: Fun On Throne

The Grand Hall of the Frozen Cloud Asgard was a cathedral of silence and ice, a place where the air itself seemed to hold its breath in reverence. The vaulted ceilings, lost in shadows, looked down upon floors of polished blue marble that reflected the ghostly light of the floating ice crystals. It was a place of austerity, of discipline, where generations of women had sworn off worldly desires to cultivate the path of the absolute cold.

But tonight, the sanctity of the hall was being desecrated in the most magnificent way possible.

Around the crystal dais at the far end of the hall, the temperature was boiling. The frigid air clashed with the searing heat radiating from two bodies, creating a mist of steam that curled around the Sect Master’s throne.

Alaric sat sprawled on the throne, a magnificent seat carved from a single, jagged block of deep blue glacial crystal. He looked every inch the dark conqueror—his black robes open, his legs spread wide, one hand resting lazily on the armrest, the other tangling possessively in the long, white hair of the woman kneeling between his thighs.

Yun Lan, the Grand Elder, the former Ice Fairy, was on her knees. Her formal sect robes—the heavy, intricate layers of blue and silver silk that symbolized her authority and dignity—were pooled around her waist. Her upper body was exposed to the biting cold air, but she didn’t feel the chill. She only felt the burning gaze of the man above her.

She was serving him.

Her head bobbed rhythmically, her red lips wrapped tight around his thick, throbbing length. She worked with a desperate, clumsy enthusiasm that betrayed her lack of experience but highlighted her overwhelming desire to please. She wasn’t doing this because she was forced; she was doing this because she believed this man was her savior, her husband in all but name, the only warmth in her cold, lonely world.

"Deeper," Alaric murmured, his hand tightening in her hair, guiding her rhythm. "Take it all, Yun Lan."

Yun Lan choked slightly but obeyed, pushing herself forward until her nose brushed his pubic hair. She took him to the back of her throat, her eyes watering, suppressing her gag reflex with a surge of Qi. She tasted him—musk, salt, and raw power.

Alaric looked down at her. The sight was intoxicating. The woman who had ruled this mountain for decades, who was revered as a goddess by the Northern Prefecture, was currently sucking him off on the steps of her own throne. Her cheeks were hollowed, her eyes were closed in concentration, and her pale hand was stroking the base of his shaft.

"Good girl," he praised, his voice husky, vibrating through the silent hall. "You taste me? That is the taste of the man who owns you. That is the taste of your husband."

He pulled her back by the hair, breaking the seal with a wet pop. Yun Lan gasped for air, a string of saliva connecting her mouth to his cock. She looked up at him, her blue eyes hazy with lust and adoration, her lips slick and swollen.

"Is it... to your liking, my dear?" she whispered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her voice trembling with the need for validation.

"It’s a start," Alaric grinned, his eyes gleaming like rubies.

He reached down and grabbed her under the arms, hauling her up. She scrambled to get her footing, climbing up the steps of the dais until she was standing between his spread legs, towering over him as he sat.

"Open your robes," he commanded softly. "Let me see them."

Yun Lan didn’t hesitate. She shrugged the heavy, multi-layered ceremonial robes off her shoulders. The fabric hissed as it slid down her arms, pooling at her elbows, trapping her arms but revealing her magnificent torso completely.

Her breasts tumbled free.

They were massive. Heavy, soft orbs of pale flesh that seemed to defy gravity, heaving with her rapid breath. They were tipped with large, pink nipples that had hardened into diamonds in the cold air, puckered and begging for attention.

"Beautiful," Alaric growled, his hands reaching out instantly.

He pulled her closer, burying his face in the deep, suffocating valley between her breasts. He inhaled her scent—snow lilies, ancient ice, and the arousal of a mature woman. He nuzzled them, his nose cold against her warm skin, making her shiver violently.

"Feng Xiao destroyed this hall," Alaric whispered against her skin, his hot breath ghosting over her nipple, making it twitch. "He smashed this throne. He burned the pillars. He left this place a graveyard."

He kissed the underside of her breast, lifting the heavy weight with his hand, feeling the density of the flesh.

"I rebuilt it," he continued, his voice vibrating through her chest, sinking into her heart. "I put every crystal back in place with my own hands. I brought the water back. I brought you back."

He looked up at her, his eyes intense. "So it belongs to me. This hall. This throne."

He squeezed her breast hard, his fingers digging in. "And so do you."

"Yes," Yun Lan breathed, her head falling back, her eyes rolling up in ecstasy. The mention of Feng Xiao no longer brought longing; it brought a sharp pang of resentment, quickly drowned out by Alaric’s overwhelming presence. Feng Xiao had destroyed. Alaric had restored. Feng Xiao had left. Alaric was here. "Yes, husband... I belong to you. Only you. Everything I have is yours."

Alaric gripped her waist, his thumbs pressing into her hips. "Then show me. Use these."

He guided her massive breasts together, sandwiching his hard, throbbing length between the soft, yielding pillows of flesh.

Yun Lan understood. She leaned forward, using her body weight to press her breasts around him. She began to move her hips, sliding her chest up and down his shaft. The friction was incredible—soft skin, hard muscle, and the slick lubrication of her own saliva and pre-cum.

Alaric watched, mesmerized. Her breasts were so large they completely engulfed him, hiding his cock from view except for the purple head that popped out near her collarbone with every downward stroke. It was a vision of excess, of decadence.

"Fuck," he hissed, his hips bucking upward instinctively, unable to restrain himself.

"Do you like it, my dear?" she asked, her voice trembling as she focused on the rhythm, trying to keep the pressure consistent. "Are they... soft enough for you?"

"They are perfect," Alaric groaned, reaching up to fondle the sides of her breasts as she worked. "The best tits in the Celestial Dragon Empire. And they are milking me right on your throne. If your ancestors could see you now..."

"Don’t..." she whimpered, a flush of shame mixing with the pleasure.

"They would be jealous," Alaric finished, grinning. "Jealous that their descendant found a man who appreciates her properly."

He couldn’t take it anymore. The tit-job was fantastic, visual candy of the highest order, but he needed to be inside her. He needed to claim the seat properly. He needed to feel her wetness gripping him.

He grabbed her wide, curvaceous hips, halting her movement.

"Turn around," he ordered.

Yun Lan stepped back, her legs shaking. She turned to face away from him, presenting her back. Alaric grabbed her waist and pulled her down.

"Sit," he commanded. "Ride me."

Yun Lan climbed onto his lap. She reached back, guiding him with her hand. She positioned the tip of his cock at her wet entrance. She took a deep breath, looking out at the empty, silent hall that stretched before her—the hall where she had given orders, where she had been the master.

Now, she was the servant.

She sank down.

"Oh... oh my..."

She gasped as he filled her. He stretched her, claiming every inch of her interior. She settled onto his lap, her heavy buttocks pressing against his thighs, her back resting against his chest. She was full. Complete.

"Jump," Alaric commanded, his hands moving up to grasp her breasts from behind.

Yun Lan began to move.

She pushed off his thighs with her feet, lifting herself up, then dropping back down. It was a slow, grinding rhythm at first, but under Alaric’s urging, it sped up.

She bounced on him. Her massive breasts flew up and down, the weight of them slapping against his forearms as he held them. The sound of wet flesh impacting wet flesh echoed in the sacred hall. Smack. Smack. Smack.

Alaric leaned back against the crystal throne, a king enjoying his tribute. The cold of the crystal seeped into his back, but the heat of Yun Lan’s body on his lap was a furnace. He watched her profile—her mouth open in a silent moan, her hair flying wild.

"Look at you," he taunted, his voice rough with pleasure. "Bouncing on your throne. Is this how a Sect Master behaves? Is this how the dignified Ice Fairy acts?"

"No..." she moaned, her head thrown back against his shoulder, her eyes squeezed shut. "No..."

"Then who is this?" Alaric demanded, pinching her nipples hard, twisting them between his fingers. "Who is this slut riding my cock?"

"It’s... it’s your woman!" she cried out, the pleasure overwhelming her shame. "It is your wife! Ah! Husband! Deeper!"

"Yes! That’s right!"

He grabbed her hips, helping her, driving deeper with every thrust. He bucked his hips upward to meet her descent, ensuring he hit the deepest part of her womb every time.

The friction was maddening. The tightness of her pussy, honed by cultivation and cleared of the cold poison, was like a velvet vice, hot and gripping.

"Feng Xiao never saw this," Alaric growled in her ear, deliberately twisting the knife of her past to sever the last threads of her attachment. "He never saw the Ice Fairy riding a cock like a mare in heat. He never made you scream like this, did he?"

The mention of Feng Xiao pushed Yun Lan over the edge.

She remembered the one night with Feng Xiao. It had been hurried. Confused. Fueled by an aphrodisiac accident in the ruins. He had been gentle, yes, but inexperienced. He hadn’t known her body. He hadn’t owned her. He hadn’t made her feel like this.

And then he had left. He had left her to deal with the ruins alone.

"He... he was a boy," Yun Lan gasped, bitterness mixing with the ecstasy. "He didn’t know... he didn’t know how to touch me... only you... only you make me feel like this..."

"That’s right," Alaric whispered, biting her neck. "I know exactly where you need it."

He ground his thumb against her clitoris while thrusting upward.

Yun Lan screamed. The sensation was blinding white light. She ground down hard on him, her internal muscles spasming, milking him with a desperate, greedy rhythm.

"Yes! Yes! Husband! You are the only one!"

Alaric groaned, the pleasure intense. "I can’t hold back," he confessed, his voice thick with lust. "You’re too sexy, Yun Lan. Even if you’re exhausted... even if you beg me to stop... I don’t think I can. Your body... it tempts me too much. You make me a beast."

"Be a beast!" she begged, grinding back against him. "Use me! Don’t hold back!"

"Up," he commanded suddenly.

He stood up, lifting Yun Lan with him. Her legs were still wrapped tightly around his waist, her ankles locked behind his back. She clung to him, her arms around his neck, her face buried in his shoulder.

He walked them to the edge of the dais, where a massive pillar of blue ice supported the vaulted ceiling.

He pressed her back against the pillar. The cold ice bit into her bare skin, shocking her, making her nipples harder, her senses sharper.

"Hold on," he growled.

He began to fuck her standing up. These were powerful, deep thrusts. He used gravity and his own immense strength to drive into her, pinning her against the pillar with every stroke.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Her body shook with the impact. Her breasts bounced wildly, slapping against his chest, hypnotizing him.

"You don’t need a sect," Alaric whispered into her ear, gaslighting her as he reorganized her insides. "You don’t need a title. You don’t need the world’s respect. You just need this. You just need my cock filling you."

"I just need this..." she repeated, delirious, her mind melting under the onslaught. "I just need you..."

"I own your past," Alaric said, thrusting harder. "I erased it. I rebuilt it."

"Yes..."

"I own your future," he continued. "You live for me. You breathe for me."

"Yes! I breathe for you!"

"I own your pussy," he snarled, grabbing her thigh and hitching it higher.

"It’s yours! It’s all yours!"

She was drooling, her eyes rolled back in her head, completely lost in the Dao of Pleasure. The icy demeanor of the Sect Master was gone, replaced by the wanton heat of a woman in love and in lust.

Alaric carried her back to the throne. He didn’t sit down this time.

He bent her over the high armrest of the crystal chair.

"Face the hall," he ordered.

Yun Lan draped herself over the armrest. Her chest was pressed against the cold crystal seat, her massive breasts squashed against the surface, spilling over the sides. Her ass was in the air, presented to him, white and round and perfect.

She looked out at the empty, shadowed hall. She imagined her disciples standing there, watching their Grand Elder bent over like a common whore. The shame made her clench tighter, which only made it feel better for Alaric.

Alaric admired the view. The curve of her spine. The width of her hips. The pink, glistening entrance that was swollen from his use.

He slapped her ass.

CRACK!

The sound echoed like a gunshot in the silent hall.

"Ah!" Yun Lan cried out, her flesh rippling.

"That is for thinking of him," Alaric growled. "Even for a second."

CRACK!

"And this is because your ass is beautiful. It’s begging for my hand."

He rubbed the red handprints he had left on her pale skin. Then, he lined himself up and drove into her from behind.

This angle went deepest of all. It hit her cervix directly.

"OH GOD! HUSBAND!"

She screamed, her fingers clawing at the crystal seat.

Alaric leaned over her back, wrapping his arms around her torso, grabbing her breasts from beneath. He weighed them, squeezed them, pulled on the nipples while he pounded into her.

"Mine," he hissed. "Mine. Mine."

He set a punishing pace. He fucked her for what felt like hours, though time had lost all meaning in the hall. They switched positions on the throne—making her lie on her back with her legs in the air, making her kneel on the seat while he stood on the floor—using every angle of the symbol of her authority to degrade and claim her.

They climaxed dozens of times. Each time, Alaric would slow down just enough to let her recover, whispering sweet, poisonous words of love into her ear, telling her how irresistible she was, how he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. And then he would start again.

"You’re trying to kill me," she sobbed, laughing hysterically amidst the pleasure. "You’re going to break me."

"I’m putting you back together," he corrected, thrusting deep.

Finally, as the first light of dawn began to touch the high windows of the hall, Alaric felt his limit approaching.

"Yun Lan," he groaned, his voice rough. "I’m going to fill you. I’m going to give you everything."

"Please..." she sobbed, reaching back to grab his hair. "Fill me... give me your essence... make me yours... seal it..."

He grabbed her hips, pulling her back onto him as hard as he could. He thrust deep, burying himself to the hilt.

He roared, his body tensing like a drawn bow.

He climaxed.

A flood of hot, potent seed erupted from him, shooting deep into her womb. It was an immense amount, the result of his enhanced vitality and the hours of edging. He poured himself into her, pulsing again and again, filling her until she felt full to bursting.

He channeled his magic through the fluid. Soul Binding. A subtle, dark art that entwined their spirits. As she accepted his seed, she accepted his dominance.

He held her there, pressed against the throne, while the aftershocks racked both their bodies.

He stayed inside her as he softened, letting every drop drain into her.

Finally, he pulled out. A gush of white fluid followed him, running down her thighs, dripping onto the pristine crystal of the throne.

Alaric collapsed onto the seat, pulling Yun Lan onto his lap.

She was limp, exhausted, her skin covered in sweat and his marks. She curled into him, burying her face in his neck, her breathing slowly returning to normal.

"My dear..." she whispered, her voice hoarse. "My love..."

Alaric stroked her hair, his touch gentle now. "I am here, Yun Lan. I am here."

"We will stay here for a few days," Alaric decided, looking around the hall he had conquered in more ways than one. "I have... many formations to test on you. Dual cultivation arrays. Pleasure formations. You need to learn them. You need to be ready to serve me properly."

Yun Lan nodded against his chest, kissing his skin. "I will learn anything you teach me. I want to be a good wife. I never want you to leave me."

"I won’t," he lied. "As long as you are this obedient."

"I am," she vowed.

Outside, the snow began to fall softly on the restored sect, covering the scars of the past in a blanket of white. Inside, the Ice Master had melted into a puddle of absolute devotion.

Alaric smiled into the darkness.

One protagonist misled. One woman conquered. The game continued, and the villain was holding all the cards.