My Netori Life With System: Stealing Milfs And Virgins

Chapter 268: 268. This Time... I Want To Record The Whole Thing As A Treasure For Me

The bluntness of it was a physical blow. He stripped away the elegance of her life, laying bare the raw, carnal reality of how they had actually met.

He wasn’t being romantic; he was being a bastard, reminding her that their connection was forged in scandal and sin.

"You’re here because you’re a woman who wants to be seen," he growled, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw as his grip remained unyielding. "And you’re here because you realized that the only person who actually sees the real you... is the man who caught you at your most shameless."

Madison let out a broken, shuddering moan, her hands coming up to rest on his muscular forearms. She didn’t try to pull his hand away; instead, she leaned into the pressure of his grip, her body betraying every ounce of her intellect.

She was drowning in him, and for the first time in her life, she didn’t want to be saved.

Mike’s thumb pressed into the soft dip of her throat, feeling the frantic, staccato rhythm of her pulse. He could see the conflict in her, the high society woman fighting the animal beneath her skin, and he decided he was done being patient.

He wanted to strip her completely, not just of her clothes, but of her dignity, until there was nothing left but the raw, pulsing truth of her addiction.

A dark, predatory smirk curled his lips. With his free hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his smartphone.

The screen’s cool, blue light cut through the dim warmth of the room, casting sharp, unforgiving shadows across Madison’s flushed face.

Click.

The sound of the camera app activating was sharp, like a gunshot in the quiet room.

"Look at the lens, Madison," Mike commanded, his voice dropping into a tone of absolute, unyielding authority.

He brought the phone up, positioning it so the recording was focused squarely on her face, capturing every tremor of her lips and every glazed, desperate look in her eyes. "Don’t look at me. Look at the camera."

"I want the world, or at least the version of you that exists in this phone, to see exactly who you are when the lights go down."

Madison’s breath came in shallow, ragged hitches. "Haa... ah..."

The sound of her own uneven breathing, amplified by the silence, made her skin prickle. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly possessed.

"Now," Mike leaned in, his grip on her neck tightening just enough to force her chin up, "be honest."

"No more managing. No more ’composure.’ Tell the camera why you keep coming back to a man who treats you like a toy."

"Tell it why you didn’t run the second you realized the leverage was real."

"Mike... please..." she whimpered, her head lolling back slightly, her eyes searching the lens with a terrifying mix of shame and hunger.

"Don’t ’please’ me. Answer the question!" he barked, his voice sudden and harsh, making her jump.

"Ah!" A small, startled moan escaped her as his dominance surged.

"Why are you here, Madison? Why aren’t you at home with Kyle, playing the perfect girlfriend? Why are you here, in this bed, waiting for a man to blackmail you?"

Madison’s eyes welled with tears, but they weren’t tears of sadness; they were the tears of a woman breaking under the weight of a pleasure that felt like a sin. She looked into the black void of the camera lens, her voice trembling, stripped of all its usual melodic grace.

"Because..." she started, her voice cracking.

"Nnngh..." She swallowed hard, her chest heaving. "Because it’s the only time I feel... real..."

"When you... when you take what you want... when you force me to..."

"Force you to do what?" Mike prompted, his eyes gleaming. He was enjoying the systematic dismantling of a queen.

He was the architect of her ruin, and he was loving every second of it.

"When you force me to be a slut!" she cried out, the word exploding from her lungs, raw and uninhibited.

"Haah... ahhh!" She gasped at her own vulgarity, her face burning a deep crimson, but she didn’t look away. "I’m addicted to it, Mike..."

"To the way you look at me like I’m nothing but a body to be used..."

"To the way you use those pictures to make me crawl to you... to make me beg for it."

Mike let out a low, dark chuckle, the sound of a man who had achieved total conquest. He moved the phone closer, capturing the way her lips trembled.

"Tell the camera about the hotel, Madison," he whispered, his breath ghosting over her ear, his hand sliding from her throat to grip her hair, pulling her head back just a little more. "Tell it about how much you crave the blackmail."

"Tell it how much you love being ’raped’ by the truth of your own lust."

"It’s... it’s a sickness," she sobbed, a desperate, needy sound.

"Mmmph... ah... yes..." She leaned her forehead against his chest, her hands clutching his forearms so hard her knuckles turned white. "Every time you threaten me... every time you show me a new way you can destroy me... all I can think about is how much I want you to do it again."

"I’m so fucking horny for the danger, Mike. I’m addicted to the way you own me."

She looked back at the lens, her expression a mask of pure, unadulterated lust, her eyes wide and dark.

"I don’t want to run," she whispered to the recording, her voice a broken, beautiful mess. "I want you to keep holding the leash..."

"I want you to keep breaking me until there’s nothing left but what you want."

Mike stared at her, his heart thudding with the sheer, brutal satisfaction of it. He had done it.

He had stripped the most composed woman in the city and found the starving, desperate creature hiding underneath. He lowered the phone, the recording still running, and let out a long, heavy breath.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice thick with a dark, possessive heat. "Now let’s see if you can keep that honesty when we actually get to work."

Mike didn’t let the momentum die. He wanted more. He wanted a visual record of her total surrender, a high-definition archive of the woman who had once been untouchable.

He pulled away from her just enough to move toward the nightstand, his movements efficient and commanding.

Thud.

The phone hit the surface as he propped it up against a heavy lamp, angling the lens perfectly. The frame was wide now, capturing the entire expanse of the bed where Madison sat, her hair disheveled, her skin flushed, and her eyes still swimming with the aftershocks of her confession.

"Stay right there," Mike ordered, his voice leaving no room for hesitation.

He didn’t look at her with tenderness; he looked at her like a collector looking at a rare, exquisite specimen. "Don’t move an inch from the center of that bed."

Madison obeyed instantly, her body trembling with a mixture of anticipation and a lingering, delicious shame. "Haa... ah..." her breath was still coming in shallow, rhythmic stutters.

"Now," Mike said, stepping back into the frame, his shadow looming over her. "Strip. Everything!"

"I want to see every inch of what you’ve been hiding under those designer suits and that ’composed’ persona!"

"I want to see the body that begs for me."

Madison’s hands went to the hem of her silk blouse. Her fingers were shaking so violently she could barely grip the fabric.

"Nnngh..." she whimpered, the sound catching in her throat.

She pulled the garment up, the fabric sliding over her skin with a soft, rhythmic shhh shhh sound. As the blouse fell away, she felt the cool air of the room hit her skin, making her nipples harden instantly in the dim light.

"Faster," Mike prompted, his gaze tracking the movement of her hands like a hawk. "Don’t be shy now, Madison."

"You already told and made the camera see how much of a slut you are. Show it to me again."

"Yes... Mike... ah!" she gasped, her movements becoming more frantic, more desperate to please him.

She unzipped her skirt, the metallic "zzzzzt" sound echoing sharply in the quiet room. She stepped out of it, her legs trembling as she sat there in nothing but her lace lingerie, her skin glowing under the soft light of the lamp.

Mike leaned against the edge of the bed, watching her with a dark, intense hunger. "Keep going. The lace too."

"I want you completely bare for the lens."

She reached for the clasp of her bra, her eyes locked onto his. "Mmm... ahhh..." As the lace fell away, she let out a long, shaky exhale, her chest rising and falling heavily.

She slid the last of her silk down her hips, the fabric pooling on the sheets with a soft thwump.

She sat there, naked, exposed, and utterly vulnerable in the center of the frame. Her skin was a map of her arousal, flushed pink at her chest, her thighs trembling, her core glistening slightly in the low light.

"Beautiful," Mike murmured, though there was a predatory edge to the compliment.

He reached out, his hand hovering just inches from her thigh, teasing her with the heat of his proximity. "Do you think you’re going to be embarrassed when you see this tomorrow?"

"When are you sitting in a board meeting or having dinner with Kyle?"

Madison looked up at him, her gaze heavy and lidded.

"Are you... are you going to show them?" she whispered, a flicker of the old Madison, the one who cared about image, trying to resurface.