Felicity's Beast World Apocalypse-Chapter 115: Greedy Fox 18+

The door had barely latched before Victor, with a gravity that no one dared challenge, swept Felicity off her feet and deposited her onto the bed. She landed amidst a sprawl of tangled, fresh linens, their scent tinged with the cool loam of unfamiliar territory and a new beginning.

Her ears twitched, fennec soft, as Victor hovered over her, hands pressed on either side of her head, his breath slow but impossibly deep, as if he could inhale her whole and be sated forever.

Damien’s laugh, low and hungry, curled from the threshold. "Finally. No rules, no audience. She’s all ours."

Ivan, who had hung back by the wall lean, arms folded, lips quirked in that perpetual, lion half smirk pushed off with a deliberation that made Felicity’s heart stutter. He plucked a chair from the corner, set it beside the bed, and straddled it backward, settling in to watch with eyes so dark and intent she felt undressed already.

Victor’s hands found the sash at her waist. Not a rough movement, but deliberate; the way he unwound each fold of the thin, white dress said he’d thought about this her many times. "Let us see you," he said, voice pitched barely above a whisper, but it echoed off the walls.

The fabric slid away, exposing her pale skin. The light caught the delicate curve of her waist, a gentle hollow above the flare of her hip, the soft slope of her stomach and the perfect, unblemished rise of her breasts. Felicity’s every instinct told her to hide, to bring her arms up, but Victor and Damien had already caught her wrists, pinning them gently but firmly over her head.

"You’re shaking," said Damien, voice gentler than she expected. "Are you scared?" His smile softened. "We can stop."

Felicity shook her head, her voice a trembling hush: "No. Just... nervous." She didn’t finish the thought; she didn’t need to. They all knew.

Voss, who had been nothing but a silent shadow in the hallway, finally crossed the threshold. He let his coat fall from his shoulders as he approached, revealing the narrow bare line of his chest, the careful, deliberate removal of every obstacle between himself and her. "We’ve waited a long time for this," he murmured, kneeling beside the bed.

His hand slid along her thigh, cool and smooth, tracing the subtle muscle beneath her skin. "You remember the last time I truly tasted you, little one? You said it was like being devoured by lightning."

Felicity bit her lip, but could not recall how to be embarrassed. Not under the focus of four men who watched her like she was the last piece of beauty left in their ruined world.

Victor finished parting the dress, letting it pool at her waist. He leaned down, grazing his teeth along her collarbone, then lower, until his mouth closed around the tip of her breast. She gasped, arching reflexively as heat flooded her skin. Damien took the other, his tongue forked, cool, impossibly agile flicking at her nipple, then closing his lips around it, suckling until it pebbled tight and sensitive.

Ivan’s breathing grew rough. He’d already undone his belt, hand lazily stroking himself beneath his clothes as he watched her writhe, every shift in her body a private show for him. "She looks so delicious," he said, voice rough and reverent. "Let her squirm a little. I want to see her blush all the way down."

Voss, on his knees at the edge of the bed, took her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing the sensitive pads of her fingers, then licking the pulse at her wrist. "Let me taste you properly," he said, and before she could answer he’d bent down, lips and tongue blazing a slow, methodical path up her inner thigh. He nipped gently at the soft flesh just above her knee, then higher, until she felt his breath, hot and measured, right where she ached most. His tongue parted her, slow and agonizing, circling her clit until she whimpered, her whole body tensing at the onslaught of sensation.

Victor’s hands were everywhere stroking her flank, cradling the back of her head, his mouth never leaving her breast. Damien’s hands, cool and elegant, traced the line of her other thigh, up to her hip where his thumb pressed gentle circles into her skin, sending tiny aftershocks with every motion.

"God, you’re perfect," Ivan said again, and Felicity could see that he meant it; it was written in the desperate, hungry way his eyes clung to her, and in the way he held back, as if afraid he’d ruin the moment by joining too soon.

Voss’s tongue was unrelenting. He sucked and licked, tongue flat and then pointed, every stroke making her hips buck helplessly. "Taste like summer," he muttered, and then, voice dropping lower, "You’re close, aren’t you, little Fox?"

She nodded, unable to speak, the pleasure cresting inside her like a wave about to break, she moaned loudly before bitting down on her lip.

Victor rumbled approval. "Come for us. Show us." At that, all three of them increased their attentions: Voss, licking harder and faster, Victor pinching and rolling her nipple, Damien’s tongue teasing the other as his fingers slipped between her legs to join Voss’s mouth. The sensation was overwhelming, more than she’d ever felt, her body stretched between three points of burning pleasure.

She came with a screaming cry, whole body arching off the bed, shivering and pulsing as the three of them held her down and drew it out, longer and sweeter than she thought possible.

She barely had a moment to catch her breath before Ivan’s hands circled her ankles, huge and warm, dragging her down the bed until her legs hung off the edge. The room swam with heat and the iron tang of want. Ivan’s cock thick, flushed, and slick pressed against her entrance in a slow, menacing promise, and when he thrust inside her in one unyielding stroke, the shock of it scattered her thoughts. She screamed, soundless at first, then real: "Daddy! oh my god—"

He grinned, feral, bracing his lion’s weight over her as he drew back, then snapped his hips forward. The force of it punched the air from her lungs; her body folded around the pleasure and pain and the certainty that she was owned, claimed, ruined for anyone but them.

"Good girl," Victor rumbled, his mouth sliding along her jaw, his hand winding through her hair to hold her just so. His own cock pressed against her ribs, hungry and heavy, but he just watched, eyes dark with thirst, as Felicity sobbed and shuddered with every new invasion.

Voss, ever the silent observer, moved onto the mattress. He straddled her shoulders, his cock thick and curved, the head slick with his arousal. He rested it on her lips, then traced the seam of her mouth with the blunt tip. "You’re drooling, little fox," he taunted softly. "Let’s not waste it."

Her tongue darted out obedient, desperate and swept over him, collecting the taste she’d come to crave. He hissed at the contact, eyes flashing, and cradled the back of her head, guiding her mouth open. The first push was gentle, insistent.

The second, ruthless. Voss fucked her mouth with the same steady, ruthless rhythm Ivan used below, filling her throat with every thrust, the air thickening with the sound of gurgled gasps and the wet slap of skin on skin.

Damien, whose control was legendary, knelt behind Voss, stroking his cocks with long, lazy pulls as he watched. "Look at her," he said, voice hoarse. "She likes it. Our greedy little fox."

She did. She loved the way they handled her, the way her body was nothing but sensation her pussy stretched wide, her mouth full and gagging, every inch of her skin mapped by the rough, reverent touch of their hands.

She couldn’t answer, could only choke and moan around Voss’s cock, the taste and smell of him everywhere. She whimpered when Ivan’s hand slipped between their bodies to rub her clit in furious, controlled circles, and when her body tensed and clenched around him, Ivan snarled an honest, animal sound and fucked her even harder, chasing his own pleasure.

Voss’s hands, gentle even in their firmness, stroked her ears, the sensation sending sparks through her skull. "That’s it," he whispered. "Take it all, sweet thing." He guided himself deeper, until her nose pressed into the soft fur of his abdomen, and held her there as he pulsed and spilled hot and bitter down her throat.

She swallowed on instinct, shuddering, and Voss let her go with a soft noise. Victor caught her immediately, shifting her to his lap, cradling her against his chest. "Breathe," he ordered, and she did, gasping, face wet with tears and spit, hair tangled but eyes clear and dazed. "Good girl," he murmured, and pressed a kiss to her temple.

Ivan, not to be outdone, pulled out and rolled her onto her stomach, lifting her hips high. "Still so tight," he said, more to himself, as he thrust back inside with a groan, rutting her with single-minded hunger.

Voss, sated but adoring, stroked her hair and murmured praise in a language she didn’t know. "You’re perfect, Felicity. Our perfect little fox."

She reached for Victors cock with both hands, eager, and suckled the head into her mouth. He shuddered, the muscles of his abdomen fluttering, as she licked and nursed at it. Ivan still pounded into her from behind, hard enough to make the bed creak, and Voss’s hands roamed everywhere, claiming every inch of her.