Felicity's Beast World Apocalypse-Chapter 80: i love you 18+

Voss sulked, Damien laughed, and Ivan bowed out, but all three melted away at Victor’s command, peeling off towards the hot spring for their long promised soak.

Victor knelt before her. The firelight haloed his shoulders; his face was all severity and hunger, but his hands were gentle as he lifted her limp, mended body. Skin to skin, she felt the harrowing absence of the others, the comfort that came only from the impossible warmth of Victor’s chest.

He carried her effortlessly, gliding down the corridor to the private bathroom suite, the air thick with crushed lavender and the bite of ozone.

The shower stall was glass from floor to ceiling, already fogged and streaked from hours of use. Victor set her on the tile bench, flipped the knobs until the water came down in a boiling-cool alternation, and stepped in beside her.

She shivered, not from cold but from the anticipation, the thick ache of want that no amount of healing could erase.

He took the hand shower wand, soaped her neck, and scrubbed her scalp, massaging until she forgot that she was even supposed to stand. His touch, practiced and clinical, became tender, then firm, then hungry.

He washed her monotone: arms, underarms, chest, pausing at her breasts only to thumb a thumbprint of foam over each nipple.

It was matter-of-fact, respectful, but she could feel the tremble in his wrist, the quiver in his voice when he told her, "You did good, Felicity. You did better than I ever expected anyone could."

She flushed, heat blooming across her cheeks like wildfire catching dry brush. The sting of his praise pierced through her defences, while the burn of his amber gaze predatory, possessive scorched paths along her skin. Her body tingled with a strange weightlessness, as if her consciousness had detached and now floated six inches above her physical form, watching herself become undone by mere words and a look.

He washed lower, fingers slow at her ruined thighs. He rinsed the inside of her, careful and thorough, and when his finger grazed her folds, she arched forward, biting his shoulder. "Sorry," she mumbled, already half out of breath.

He grunted, a low vibration she felt in her bones. Then his lips parted, revealing a predator’s smile that transformed his face into something ancient and hungry. Without breaking eye contact, he set aside the shower wand with deliberate care and closed the distance between them, the heat of his body reaching her before his hands did. The cool tile pressed against her shoulder blades as he caged her with his arms, water streaming down the planes of his chest.

"You heal," he said, "but I want you to remember who you belong to." In a flash his tongue was on her, mouth hot against the healed, oversensitized flesh. His tongue was rough, his teeth careful but insistent, and she cried out, the echo slapped back by the glass.

He licked her clean with slow, deliberate strokes of his tongue, savoring every drop of her essence as if memorizing her taste. Then he prowled up her body, his powerful frame caging her beneath him, muscles taut with barely restrained hunger. His eyes burned into hers, pupils blown wide with possession as his mouth hovered a breath away from her lips. "Little fox," he growled, voice dropping to a dangerous rumble that vibrated through her bones, "when your heat comes and it will. I’m claiming you. No one else touches you. No one else fills you. You’re mine to stuff full until you can’t remember your name. Do you understand?"

She nodded, lost for words, and he pulled her onto his lap, impaling her in a single, brutal motion. The cock she’d just sucked was hard as marble inside her, and she whimpered as the pressure returned, exquisitely sweet.

He guided her hips with commanding fingers digging into soft flesh, grinding her in slow, relentless circles that sent electricity shooting up her spine. "Feel how deep I am?" he growled against her ear, his voice a dangerous rumble. The water pounded down, droplets searing her flushed skin, but his hands gripped her ass with bruising possession, holding her exactly where he needed her, making her take every thick, throbbing inch just as he wanted. "You’re mine," he whispered hoarsely, "all mine."

He bit her lip, and she tasted blood. "Scream," he ordered. "I want them to hear you."

So she did, surrendering to the need that had built inside her like a storm. Her voice broke against the tile in desperate, animal sounds she’d never made before. Her body arched toward his as if magnetized, skin electric where they touched. She sobbed again, but this time it wasn’t pain it was recognition. Every cell in her body humming yes, this, finally. As if she had been crafted precisely for the shape of his hands, the heat of his breath, the weight of his gaze.

He fucked her hard, each thrust driving her up against the brass fixtures, making the world reduce to the flex of his arms and the bruise of his cock. When she came, the world fuzzed out, and she felt her nails drag across his back, leaving merciless red lines.

He didn’t stop. He pressed her against the wall, both arms caging her, fingers digging into the plaster beside her head. "Watching you in the city," he growled against her throat, his voice a dangerous rumble, "made me lose my mind."

His hips slammed forward relentlessly, each thrust making her gasp. "I’m never letting you be alone again," he promised darkly, one hand moving to grip her thigh, hitching it higher as he drove deeper. She felt herself unraveling, her magic flickering uselessly beneath her skin, unable to keep pace with how thoroughly he was taking her apart.

He pressed his lips to her cheek, then her ear, voice breaking: "I don’t want to hurt you. I want you to be... perfect. Ours. Mine. And I’ll kill anyone who tries to break you."

"Victor," she sobbed, clinging to his neck. "You’re not breaking me. I love you." 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

He let himself smile, shy at once, and, with a growl, finished inside her, pinning her to the wall, hips jerking with exquisite control. When she slumped, boneless, he caught her, washing her once more with hands that shook from the aftermath.

They showered in silence, until her breathing settled.

Only then did Victor carry her to her bed, wrap her in his broad, scarred limbs, and hold her so tightly she thought she’d never be able to leave again even if she wanted to.

Shortly after, her three other husbands filed into the chamber one by one, nostrils flaring as they caught the mingled scents of sweat, satisfaction, and Victor’s distinctive musk that clung to her skin.

Voss entered first, his calculating eyes golden as a wolf’s but infinitely more perceptive swept the room in microsecond assessment, cataloguing every detail from the rumpled sheets to the flush still visible on Felicity’s cheeks. His breath caught, almost imperceptibly.

She was safe. The constant visions of her broken body, of futures where he failed her, receded like shadows before dawn. In her presence, the statistical nightmares of the pit that haunted his every waking moment quieted to whispers. Only she did this for him. Only she.

Damien followed, water droplets forming and evaporating against his scaled skin in rapid succession as his emotions surged between murderous calculation and reverent worship. His serpentine pupils contracted to thin slits when another male’s gaze lingered too long on her silhouette, already mapping the precise location to strike, to paralyse, to end then dilated wide with wonder at the impossible miracle that she was his to protect.

Ivan slipped in last, his massive frame moving with predatory grace as he surveyed the room. His golden eyes narrowed, cataloging threats before settling on her small figure. The tension in his shoulders eased minutely, a change imperceptible to anyone but her. His love, his little sun the only warmth that had ever penetrated the frozen wasteland of his heart.

None showed surprise. This week had been brutal territory disputes, and the constant threat of rival men had worn Victor raw. Now that she had returned to them, their Alpha deserved this reunion, this reclaiming.

"We could hear your heartbeat through the walls," Ivan murmured, voice like rushing water. "It calls to us even when we try to give you space."

Voss’s fingers twitched at his sides. "I’ve calculated 317 different scenarios where someone tries to take you from us. In each one, I ensure they die slowly."

Damien , normally silent, pressed his forehead against the doorframe. "Your scent changes when you’re with him," he whispered. "It becomes... complete. Like ours does when you’re with us."

They would wait their turn. They would share her time, her body, her self, her love. After all, hadn’t they pledged to burn down cities for her? To flood valleys? To rewrite the very laws of Beastworld if it meant keeping her safe?

They had. They would. Again and again.