She Used Me for a Dare… Now I Own Her Mother

Chapter 322: A View From The Cold – II

”Please, Sir... please let us taste it...”

Vivienne’s voice was a ragged, high-pitched plea that barely sounded human.

Jennifer, watching through the freezing glass, felt a jolt of pure electricity shoot up her spine. Her mother’s face was a mask of desperation, her eyes wide and wet, fixed on the man’s lap with a hunger that was frankly terrifying.

Beside her, Helena was nodding frantically, her tongue darting out to lick her parched lips as if she were staring at the only water in a desert.

The masked man didn’t move. He sat there like a dark emperor, savoring the sight of two of the most powerful women in the country begging for the privilege of serving him.

A slow, triumphant smile curled his lips.

”Such good little sluts,” he murmured, his deep voice vibrating through the room and the glass alike. He leaned back, spreading his legs a fraction wider in a casual, dominant invitation. ”Go ahead. Show me how much you want it.”

The green light hit them like a physical shock.

Jennifer watched as their eyes ignited with a sickening, brilliant shine... a look of pure, unadulterated fanaticism.

They didn’t just reach for him; they scrambled.

Four trembling, manicured hands descended on his waist in a frantic blur. Vivienne and Helena were shoulder-to-shoulder, their fingers fumbling and clashing against the dark fabric of his tailored trousers. There was no dignity left, no corporate poise... only the raw, animalistic need to uncover the god sitting before them.

’Sluts,’ Jennifer hissed in the silence of her own mind, her breath hitching as she watched her mother’s frantic movements. ’He’s right. That’s all you are. Pathetic, cock-hungry sluts.’

The curse felt like poison in her mouth, a bitter shield against the reality unfolding inches away. But even as she spat the words, her body committed a treacherous mutiny.

​Unconsciously, Jennifer found herself leaning forward, her chest brushing the freezing glass as she tilted her head, desperately trying to find a better angle through the narrow gap in the velvet. She was adjusting herself, shifting her weight on her heels just to ensure she wouldn’t miss a single millimeter of the reveal.

​A heavy, molten heat pooled between her thighs, a sharp and demanding throb that made the biting wind feel like a distant memory.

Her eyes remained locked on the strain of his trousers, her mind reeling at the sheer, impossible scale of what was hidden there.

’God, if that’s what it looks like under the fabric, how could a woman even...’ She cut the thought off, her throat going bone-dry as she realized she was acting exactly like them.

She was hunting for the view with the same starved desperation Vivienne was using to hunt for the zipper.

​”No,” she whispered into the darkness, her voice cracking.

​She violently shook her head, her hair whipping against her glowing, tear-stained cheeks.

​”Never. I would never...”

​She lied to herself, the words sounding hollow and pathetic even in her own ears. She tried to pull back, to force her boots to move away from the window, but her gaze remained glued to that silver zipper. Her heart hammered a frantic, guilty rhythm against her ribs, and despite the lie she told her soul, her eyes remained wide, dilated, and hopelessly captivated.

***

Inside the room, the tension reached a breaking point. The masked man shifted, his large hands reaching down to grip the bedsheets as he partially stood, elevating his hips to assist the two women in their frantic task.

Vivienne and Helena each took a side, their fingers hooking into the waistband of his trousers. They moved in perfect, practiced unison, their gazes locked on his face with a look of terrifying devotion as they began to slide the dark fabric down his powerful thighs.

Then, it happened.

The moment the tension of the fabric was released, the monster sprang free. It didn’t just emerge; it snapped forward like a coiled spring, heavy and violent. The sheer force of the release sent it surging upward, nearly striking Vivienne across the cheek.

”Ah!”

Both women cried out in a mixture of genuine shock and visceral thrill, flinching back just as the massive length began to swing... a heavy, arrogant pendulum of dark, veined muscle thudding rhythmically against his lower abdomen.

”Oh!”

On the terrace, a sharp, strangled cry escaped Jennifer’s throat. She jolted back, her heart nearly leaping out of her chest as she instinctively clamped both hands over her mouth. Her eyes were wide with terror, certain she’d been caught. But the sound of her own shock was swallowed completely by the high-pitched gasps and frantic giggles of the two women inside.

They didn’t hear her. They didn’t care about anything in the world except the beast that had just been unleashed.

Jennifer forced herself back to the glass, her breath hitching as she stared at the reveal. It was a monster... thick, angry, and magnificent, pulsing with a life of its own in the warm candlelight. It looked like a dark god carved from marble, stretching the limits of what she thought was humanly possible.

But then, the atmosphere shifted.

Vivienne reached out, her trembling hands closing around the massive, pulsing base. A soft, breathless laugh bubbled up from her throat... a sound Jennifer had never heard from her mother. It was the laugh of a woman who had been utterly conquered and loved every second of it.

”This bad boy...” Vivienne whispered, her eyes shining with a playful, hungry light as she looked up at the masked man. ”He always manages to scare us, doesn’t he?”

She glanced at Helena, who let out a matching, giddy laugh, her fingers reaching out to stroke the heavy crown of the monster.

”Every single time, Sir,” Helena added, her voice dripping with a sickening familiarity.

A cold, sharp blade of realization twisted in Jennifer’s gut as she watched their practiced ease.

’These bitches,’ Jennifer thought, her knuckles white as she gripped the stone balustrade. ’They aren’t just sluts. They’re his playthings. His regulars.’

She spat the curses in her mind, her fury at their hypocrisy boiling over, but it suddenly turned into pure, paralyzed shock as she watched in horror. Her mother... adjusted herself with practiced ease, bending forward until her face was inches from the monster.

Without a shred of hesitation, Vivienne let her tongue swirl out, licking the length of him with a slow, worshipful stroke that left a glistening trail of saliva in its wake.

Helena didn’t stay behind.

Driven by a matching, feral hunger, the assistant crowded in from the other side, her head bobbing as she mimicked Vivienne’s movements with practiced precision.

They were like two mirrors of the same depraved obsession, their tongues lashing against the thick, pulsing skin of the monster in tandem.

​Jennifer watched, her breath hitching, as the two women began slurping and licking him from both sides, their movements frantic and uncoordinated in their greed. The air was filled with the wet, rhythmic sounds of their devotion... a chorus of slurps and needy moans that pierced right through the glass.

​They looked like animals at a trough, their faces buried in him, their hands occasionally brushing as they fought to taste every available inch of the shaft. There was no hesitation, no lingering trace of the refined women they pretended to be in the light of day. They were just two hungry mouths, desperate to saturate themselves with him.

​Inside the room, the man let out a low, vibrating growl of approval. He didn’t pull back. Instead, he spread his legs even wider, offering them more of himself as they worked in a feverish, wet synchronization that made Jennifer’s head spin.

​A thick, suffocating heat flooded Jennifer’s body. She was witnessing the total assassination of their character, yet she couldn’t pull her eyes away from the way they were gorging themselves on him, their eyes rolled back in a trance of absolute, shameful devotion.