Chapter 161: Lynx Vs 8 Women III

Her tits bounced with every thrust. Her nails raked the velvet. Sweat ran down her throat and pooled in the hollow of her collarbone.

"Harder," she gasped. "Lynx~ harder..."

"You’re going to break."

"I don’t care..."

"Good."

He broke her. He fucked her harder and faster, his hips moving with a blur, her pussy taking his cock deep and fast.

She came three more times in quick succession, each one shorter and sharper than the last.

Until her voice gave out and she was just mouthing his name, and he still didn’t stop, and the fourth one rolled out of her like something being wrung from a cloth.

When he pulled out she didn’t move. She lay there with her legs still up and her eyes closed and her chest heaving, and a thin line of slick ran from her cunt down the inside of her thigh.

"Lira."

Lira was already crawling toward him, green eyes huge, her soft plump chest swaying. "Yess"

"On your side. Your top leg up."

She arranged herself in a heartbeat, and he lay down behind her and slid into her from behind while she held her top leg up with her own hand, and the angle made her gasp and then giggle and then gasp again.

She was small and warm and she took him like she’d been made for it, and he fucked her slow and deep and reached around to work her clit with two fingers while he did it.

"Talk to me," he said.

"It’s so... big."

"That’s not talking."

"It’s... I can feel you in my stomach."

"Better."

He pinched her clit and she came almost immediately, a bright surprised little orgasm that made her laugh and then moan and then push her ass back into him for more.

He gave her more. He held her hip and fucked her through it, and she came again with her cheek pressed to Ophelia’s thigh, and Ophelia reached down and stroked her hair while she did it.

"Ophelia."

"Mm."

"On your back. Your big ass on the edge of the bed. I want to watch it."

Ophelia rolled onto her back and slid down until her hips hung off the edge of the mattress, and Lynx stood at the foot of the bed and pulled her legs over his shoulders and pushed into her standing up, and the first thrust made her entire body arch and her split pink and white hair spill across the velvet.

He fucked her like that, standing, holding her thighs, and every stroke drove a sound out of her that was half word and half noise.

"You love this," he said.

"I love you!"

"I know. Say the other thing."

"I love your massive cock!"

"Good girl."

He fucked her until her voice went raw and her ass was red from the slap of his hips, and then he pulled out and turned her over and took her from behind over the edge of the bed.

And she came twice more with her face buried in the sheets and her fingers twisted into the velvet.

Smack! Smack!

Her legendary backside was marked with the print of his hands, red and white and red again. How could he not slap this massive ass.

"Amira. It’s your turn my love."

Amira rose off her knees and stood, and he took her against the wall, her back to the dark wood, her colossal chest crushed against his, one of her legs hooked over his hip.

She was tall enough to meet his eyes, and she did, grey and calm and burning, the whole time he fucked her.

He held her under the thigh and drove up into her, and she took it with her jaw set and her breath hissing through her teeth, and she didn’t look away once.

"You aren’t blinking dear." he said.

"I don’t lose either, baby."

"You’re about to."

"Try me."

He fucked her against that wall until her legs shook and her composure cracked and her calm grey eyes went wide and wet, and when she came she did it with her forehead pressed to his and her mouth open and no sound at all, and he watched her lose and liked it.

"Ava."

Ava lifted her head off the mattress. Her face was flushed and streaked, her white hair stuck to her cheeks, and she had been grinding against the velvet so long the fabric was dark and wet under her hips.

"Please," she said.

"Please what."

"Please let me be next."

"You’ve been next all night."

"Then now."

He crossed to her and pulled her up off the bed by her hips, and she came willingly, boneless and eager, and he bent her over the foot of the bed with her feet on the floor and her ass in the air.

She was so wet he slid in without resistance, and she cried out and pushed back against him before he’d even set his rhythm.

"Easy."

"Don’t tell me easy..."

"I’ll tell you what I want." He caught her hips and held them still. "You’re going to take it exactly how I give it. Understand?"

"Yes..."

"Say it."

"I understand."

He gave it to her slow at first, long deep strokes that made her toes curl against the floor, and then faster, and then brutal, until the slap of his hips against her ass was a metronome and she was gripping the velvet with both hands and sobbing his name into the mattress.

"How many?" he asked.

"I don’t... Aghnn~ I can’t— oghnn~"

"Count."

"Three..."

"Keep going."

She came four, five, six, each one shorter and sharper and wetter than the last, until her legs gave and he had to hold her up by her hips, and her voice had gone to nothing but breath.

He pulled out and turned her over and laid her on her back on the edge of the bed and slid back into her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck and held on like she was drowning.

"Look at me."

She looked. Her blue eyes were swimming.

"You feel that."

"Yes."

"That’s the mark. That’s what I am." He drove deep and held there, grinding, and she shuddered around him. "And you’re mine, Ava. Say it."

"I’m yours."

"Again."

"I’m yours, Lynx."

He came then, finally, the first time all night, and he came inside her with his forehead pressed to her forehead and his whole body locked, and Ava felt it, every pulse, every throb.

The heat of it flooding her, and she came with him, clenching around him in waves that seemed to have no end, and they stayed like that, joined and shaking, while the room slowly came back around them.

When he pulled out, she whimpered. When he stood up, cum ran down the inside of her thigh in a slow white line, and she didn’t move to stop it.

She just lay there on the edge of the bed with her legs open and her chest heaving and her golden sigil guttering like a candle in wind.

Lynx looked down the length of the bed.

Isabel was face down and unmoving. Kira was curled on her side with her eyes closed. Lira was smiling at the ceiling with tears on her cheeks.

Ophelia was stroking her own marked thigh with a faraway look. Amira had slid down the wall to sit on the floor, knees up, grey eyes closed.

And Rose Firehart was still on the bed, still flushed, still watching, her thick thighs pressed together and her red sigil pulsing slow and deep, and she had not been touched once.

"You’re almost the last, Professor," Lynx said.

Rose’s voice came out low and steady. "I know, and don’t call me ’Professor’."

Lynx laughed. "You’ve been watching all night."

"I have."

"You want it."

"I want it."

He crossed to her. He put one hand on her chest, on the soft heavy weight of her breast above her top, and he felt her heart going under his palm like a hammer on a nail. She didn’t flinch.

She looked up at him with her sharp beautiful face and her glowing red sigil and her eyes that had seen fifty years of fire, and she said the only word left in the room.

"Please."

He didn’t give her a second to brace.

Lynx caught Rose by the hips and turned her onto her stomach in one movement, fast and clean, the way she’d seen him handle Kira across the velvet.

And she landed with her red hair fanned across the sheets and her wide hips already lifting, already offering, before her pride could catch up to her body.

Fifty years old. A professor who had made grown men flinch with a single look. Sprawled on her belly with her ass in the air for a second year absurdly handsome student, with a big cock.

"You watched all of it," Lynx said. He ran one flat palm up the back of her thigh, slow, feeling the heat rolling off her skin. "Every one of them. You didn’t touch yourself once."

"I’m not a girl," Rose said into the velvet. "I don’t need to."

"No. You’re worse." He put the head of his cock against her and held it there, not pushing, just resting it, letting her feel the size of it pressed flat against her entrance.

"You’ve been dripping since you’ve been here and you sat through seven women getting fucked because you wanted to be last. That’s not patience, Professor. That’s greed."

"Then stop talking about it and..."

He pushed in.

Not slow. Not gentle. One long, brutal stroke that buried him to the root in a single motion, and Rose’s whole spine arched off the bed and a sound ripped out of her that wasn’t a word and wasn’t a scream.

It was something lower, guttural, a noise she’d never made in her life and would deny making in the morning.

The sigil on her forehead flared bright red, pulsing hard, and heat rolled off her in a wave that made the sheets steam faintly under her hands.

"There," Lynx said. "That’s what you were waiting for."

"Move it."

"Say please."

She gritted her teeth. "Please..."

He moved. He caught her hips with both hands and pulled her back onto him on every stroke, and the slap of his hips against her soft round ass filled the grand room like a drumbeat.

Rose gripped the velvet with both fists and stopped pretending. She pushed back to meet him.

She dropped her head and moaned into the mattress, and the sound of it carried, because the room had gone quiet, and every other woman in it had turned to watch.

Isabel lay on her side, cheek on her folded arms, eyes half lidded and spent. Kira had curled onto her stomach with her chin propped on her hand, deep orange eyes tracking every thrust.

Lira was smiling at the ceiling with her thighs pressed together. Ophelia had rolled onto her back and slid one hand down her own stomach, slow, watching.

Amira sat against the wall with her knees up and her grey eyes dark. Ava lay limp at the foot of the bed with cum still drying on the inside of her thigh, and she was watching too, all of them were.

Eight women, and not one of them said a single word that wasn’t about what was happening on that bed.

"Look at her," Lira said softly, to no one. "She’s shaking."

"She’s been holding it in all night," Ophelia murmured, her fingers moving between her thighs. "Look at her face. That’s a woman who’s been starving."

"She’s going to cum already," Ava whispered, hoarse. "She’s going to cum and he’s barely started."

Rose came.

It hit her like a detonation, sudden and total, her whole body locking and then breaking, cunt clenching around Lynx in hard rhythmic waves that pulled a low grunt out of him.

She came with her mouth open and no sound at all, and Lynx didn’t slow, he fucked her straight through it, deeper, harder, and she came again before the first one had finished, and this time she screamed.

"That’s two," he said. "You’re catching up."

"Ahhh~ Aghnn~ Lynx!"

"Say my name again."

"Lynx!"

"Louder."

"LYNX!!"

He drove her down into the mattress and held her there, grinding deep, and Rose sobbed into the velvet and came a third time with her thighs shaking so hard she couldn’t hold her own weight.

Lynx pulled out and she collapsed flat, chest heaving, red hair stuck to her wet cheeks, and a thin line of slick ran down the inside of her thigh.