Peerless Perverted Actor Has a Celebrity Harem?!

Park did not ask the Chancellor so much as tell her.

He chose the afternoon his father was out, the study had been quiet, the door left open just enough that it did not look like a conspiracy, and he stood there with his hands easy at his sides and his voice a little softer than it needed to be, the hurt stepson she already believed in sitting right behind his teeth.

It was Aveline’s advice, given while he had still been talking it through with Emmeline, not disrespect or a slap at the woman’s authority, just the knowledge that a yes given to a wounded boy was a yes he could spend later, leverage folded into kindness, and he had been paranoid enough to take it.

He had told Quinn was going to be his assistant like it had already been decided.

The Chancellor looked at him a long time and then she agreed, because of course she did, and Park thanked her like a good step-son and left before his father could come home and turn it into a negotiation.

That was the day.

The last few days around it, Emmeline had become something else, and it was not only the hunger.

She came to him in the mornings before he was even awake, but she did not just sink onto his cock like a body with a hole. ]

She’d kiss his mouth first while he was still asleep, clumsy, off-center, her hair in his face, and she waited for him to kiss her back before she took his cock in her hand and put him inside her pussy.

He would wake to that, to her mouth, to her forehead bumped against his, to her whispering his name like she needed him to be in the room with her, not just in her, and then the tight wet of her pussy would take his cock and they would move.

When it got fast she still reached for his face and made him look at her.

They would fuck like that until she shook, and she would laugh after, breathless, hiding in his neck, and pinch his side when he tried to get up for the gym too soon.

She followed him into the shower and kissed him under the water before she put her mouth on his cock and sucked him, and when he lifted her she climbed, her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his waist, and she kept kissing him while he fucked her hard and fast in the air, hammering up into her, her moans going into his mouth instead of the tile.

When he hooked her legs over his shoulders she grabbed the back of his head and pulled him in, even at that angle, even with her body folded, hunting his mouth, and when she could not reach she made a frustrated sound that was almost a laugh and said, "come here, Park, I can’t," and he had to hunch to give her the kiss, still inside her, still moving, and she smiled against his teeth like that had been the point.

She liked the fervor. She liked the beast. She also liked him, and she would not let him forget it.

Sometimes he set her down and turned her, and she put both hands on the glass, then both hands on the mirror, ass to him, and before he even lined up she looked over her shoulder and reached back with one wet hand until she found his hip, then his wrist, and she tugged him in close so his chest hit her back, and she kept her head turned, waiting, until he kissed the corner of her mouth, awkward, water in the way, and only then did she push her ass into him.

He took her from behind so hard and so fast her feet almost left the floor, and she still tried to keep that kiss, missing, catching his jaw, moaning into his cheek, her tits shaking against the fogged glass.

He had never been obsessed with anything the way he was obsessed with this endless sex with his sister, with her tight pussy, with the way she did not get sore so long as she slept, and he had started doing everything else in his day only as the hours between while only thinking about getting back inside her.

Fuck.

He was getting addicted.

She knew; she would catch him looking at her mouth in the middle of nothing and raise her eyebrows at him like, "I know," and then she would take his hand before he reached in her clothes and fingered her pussy and tease her clit until she’s about to come and he’ll pull away.

There was no space on his wing that did not fuck in.

They had left the politeness of bathroom and bedroom and started using the living space, and her moans filled it.

She was a beautiful moaner and she never held back.

Right now the night sat black on the other side of the tall windows. The lawn lights were small and far with nobody out there.

Inside, the living room of his space was only lamps and the pale back of the couch.

That was how he got her on it.

Park had put Emmeline over the back of couch the way he wanted; she was pressed in with her knees in the cushions while her body was folded hard over the pale backrest so her ass was up and shown off, round, supple, young, with her bare tits flattened to the couch.

Outside, the dark made the glass into a weak mirror.

If anyone had the capability to fly while in the lawn they would have seen a girl folded over furniture and a boy standing behind her with his cock in his hand.

Her arms stretched forward, then one of them came back immediately, groping blindly for him, and she turned her head as far as the position would let her, cheek to the couch, mouth seeking, and she said his name first, not a moan, just Park, come here, before he even slapped her.

He leaned over her spine to give her a kiss, deep, a little off because of the angle, and she made a small pleased sound into it, her fingers in his hair, holding him there a second like she was reminding him she had a face.

Then she let go: "If you go gentle I will kill you! Fuck me hard as usual."

Park laughed and he gave that ass a slap.

The meat of her supple ass jumped, a ripple and a pink shade bloomed, and she moaned into the couch and then laughed, startled at herself, and reached back again to touch the place he had hit.

She pushed her ass back into the next slap herself.

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