Chapter 163: Lynx vs 8 Women V

They came at him in a wave.

Isabel reached him first, blonde hair wild across her face, orange eyes blown wide, her body already slick with the aftermath of the link and the intense sex they had before.

And she crawled up his chest and kissed him like she was trying to climb inside him, both hands fisted in his hair, her heavy breasts dragging wet across his stomach.

Lynx caught her waist and pulled her down onto his lap and sheathed himself inside her in one motion, and Isabel broke the kiss to gasp against his mouth.

"Ohhn~ ohhn~ Lynx... Nghn~"

"Aunt," he said, quiet, and pumped into her slow.

She shuddered. Her hips found his rhythm the way they always did, the way they’d learned to across nights that were nobody’s business, and she rode him with her forehead pressed to his and her breath coming in short hot bursts against his lips.

Around them the others pressed close, Lira’s mouth on Isabel’s shoulder, Ophelia’s fingers between her own thighs, Amira watching with her grey eyes half lidded and hungry.

"She’s so wet," Kira said, kneeling beside them with her hands on her own thighs, watching her mother take Lynx’s cock with a look on her face that was fascinated.

"I can hear it."

"You can hear it?" Lira asked, dreamy.

"Listen."

And there it was, the wet sound of Isabel riding him, obscene and rhythmic, filling the whole room.

Isabel’s face went red and she hid it in Lynx’s neck, but her hips didn’t slow. If anything they sped up, chasing, and Lynx watched his aunt come apart on his lap with her ass slapping against his thighs and her mouth open and nothing coming out.

"Good girl," he said into her ear.

She came. He felt it, the clench, the pulse, the gush of her around him, and he held her through it, one hand spread across the small of her back, the other buried in her hair.

When she went limp against his chest, still twitching, he lifted her off him and laid her down in the velvet beside Nyx.

"More," he said.

Lira was already crawling toward him. She moved the way she always moved, weightless, wind touched, her hips swaying with a grace that had nothing to do with practice, she was just built for it, built to look good on her hands and knees, built to be watched.

She turned around and presented herself to him, back arched, white hair spilling down her spine, and looked over her shoulder with those big green eyes.

"From behind," she said. "Please."

"You don’t have to ask."

He knelt behind her and pushed into her in one long stroke, and Lira’s arms gave out and she went down onto her elbows with a moan that turned into a laugh halfway through.

She was tight and wet and hot and she took him beautifully, rocking back to meet every thrust, and Lynx grabbed her hips and set a pace that made the bed creak.

"Nghn~ Faster," Lira gasped. "Harder, harder, Lynx..."

He gave her harder. He gave her the kind of hard that left fingerprints, the kind that made her whole body rock forward on each stroke, and Lira’s voice climbed and climbed until it broke into a sob and she came with her cheek pressed to the velvet and her hands scrabbling for purchase.

He didn’t stop. He fucked her through it and past it, and Lira cried out again, and again, coming so many times she lost count, and around them the other women had stopped watching and started touching, Kira’s fingers buried in Ophelia, Ava’s mouth on Amira’s breast.

Rose lying back with her thighs spread and her own hand working between them while she watched Lynx take Lira apart.

Lynx pulled out of Lira before he finished. He wasn’t close. He wasn’t anywhere near close.

He was in that place the mark took him, where the pleasure was a river and he stood in the middle of it and let it run past, feeding, feeding, feeding, and he could do this all night and probably would.

"Who’s next," he said.

"Me," Ophelia said, and she was already on her back, split dyed hair fanned out across the velvet in a spill of pink and white, rose eyes bright, her thighs already wet and open. "I’ve been waiting."

"You’ve been watching."

"Obviously." She reached for him, both hands, and pulled him down on top of her.

"Now fuck me."

He pushed into Ophelia and she wrapped both legs around his waist and both arms around his neck and held him there, close, so close that every stroke was short and deep and brutal, and Ophelia’s mouth found his and she kissed him through it, biting his lip, breathing his breath.

Her big breasts pressed flat against his chest. Her ass cupped in his hands. Her hips rolling up to meet him in a rhythm that was nothing like the others, slower, dirtier, more deliberate, and Lynx realized halfway through that...

Ophelia was fucking him as much as he was fucking her, that she had taken control of the pace without either of them saying so, and that it was working.

He let her have it for a while. He let her work him, let her pull him down and bite his shoulder and whisper things in his ear that were filth and praise in equal measure.

Then he caught her wrists and pinned them over her head, and Ophelia’s eyes went wide and delighted, and he fucked her the way he wanted to, hard and fast and without mercy. His heavy balls slapping her ass.

Ophelia came with her back arched and his name on her lips and her fingernails digging into his forearms.

"Again," she said, breathless, laughing. "Do it again."

He did it again. And again. And when Ophelia finally went limp beneath him, flushed and gasping and smiling like she’d won something.

Lynx pulled out and looked down the bed at the women still waiting for him.

Kira was on her knees, watching with her mother’s eyes and her own hunger. Rose lay on her back with her red hair spread everywhere, thick thighs parted, one hand still working slow circles between them, watching him like a predator watches prey it has decided to let win.

Amira was on her side, propped on one elbow, grey eyes dark. Ava was at the end of the bed with her knees tucked under her, flushed and quiet and patient, the way she always was.

"Kira," he said.

She came to him without a word. Kira straddled him and sank down onto his cock in one motion, and her deep orange eyes fluttered shut and her mouth opened and no sound came out, just that first long silent breath of being filled. Then she started to move.

Kira rode him like she did everything, with fire. Hard and fierce and unrelenting, her hips snapping down onto his, her hands braced on his chest, her blonde hair sticking to her sweat damp forehead.

She was strong. She was so strong, and she used all of it, and Lynx could feel the blessing coiled in her blood heating her from the inside, making her hotter than any other woman in the room.

"That’s it," he said. "Faster."

"Don’t.. Aghnn~" She gasped. "I can’t.."

"Then don’t slow down."

She didn’t. She rode him harder, and her eyes opened and found his, and there was something in them that wasn’t just lust, something fierce and possessive and a little bit afraid.

And Lynx reached up and caught her jaw in his hand and made her keep looking at him while she came.

She came with a broken sound and her whole body shaking, and she didn’t stop riding him, didn’t stop, not even when the aftershocks rolled through her, not even when her thighs started to tremble.

"Keep going," she gritted out. "I’m not.. Nghn~ I’m not done."

"I know."

He rolled her over. He put Kira on her back and fucked her properly, deep and slow, and she clawed at his back and cursed at him and came again, and again, he fucked her deep, his cock hitting her cervix, making her cry out in intense pleasure.

By the time he pulled out of her, Kira was barely coherent, mumbling against his neck, and he set her down gently beside Ophelia and turned to the last two.

Rose was already sitting up. She’d been waiting, patient and predatory, and she looked at him the way she looked at students who came late to her class, like she knew exactly what he was going to do and had already decided to let him.

"Professor," Lynx said.

"Don’t." She reached for him and pulled him down onto the velvet beside her, and her thick thighs came up to bracket his hips and her hand found his cock and guided him to her without ceremony.

He pushed into her. Rose Firehart, fifty years old, the strongest fire affinity user in the empire, a woman who could burn a battlefield to glass, took him with a low satisfied sound and wrapped her legs around him and pulled him in to the root.

"Good," she said. "Now move."

He fucked her the way she deserved, deep and deliberate and with the kind of rhythm that was less about speed and more about pressure, the kind that made a woman feel every inch of him on every stroke.

Rose’s red hair spread across the velvet like spilled wine. Her big breasts rocked with each thrust.

"Harder," she said. "Harder Lynx, don’t be gentle with me."

"I wasn’t planning to."

He fucked her hard, the way she’d asked, and Rose met him stroke for stroke. He continued drilling her pussy, attacking her non stop.

"Ahhh~ Ahnn~ Yess~ Ohhh~ Lynx~"

The soft feeling of her pussy was intoxicating, everytime he thrust, slurpy pussy juices spilled out, sliding down her beautiful legs.

Pah! Pah!

"Yess~ Yesss~ Yess~ Ohnn~ Cumming~~"

She came with her head thrown back and her sigil blazing and a sound that was almost a growl, and Lynx felt the heat roll off her in a wave that made every other woman on the bed moan. Then she fell off him.

Then he turned to Ava.

She was the last one. She’d been waiting the whole time, quiet, patient, at the end of the bed, watching him work through the others with her blue eyes and her white hair and her hands folded in her lap like a girl at temple.

She was a storm, and she was his, and when he held out his hand to her she took it and let him pull her up onto her knees in front of him.

"Hi," she said, soft.

"Princess."

"I’ve been waiting."

"I know." He kissed her. Slow, this time, gentle, because Ava was the one he was gentle with. "You’ve been good."

"I can be good." Her hands came up to his chest, palms flat against the carved muscle, and her golden sigil pulsed in time with the silver on his forehead. "But I don’t want to be good right now."

"No?"

"No." She looked up at him, and her eyes were bright and steady and full of something that was more than want. "I want you to do to me what you did to them. All of it. Don’t hold back."

"You sure?"

"I’ve been sure since the first night."

He put her on her back. He put Ava on her back in the middle of the bed, in the middle of all of them, with Isabel and Kira tangled on one side and Lira and Ophelia curled on the other and Amira and Rose and Nyx watching from around her.

Lynx knelt between her thighs and pushed into her slowly, inch by inch, watching her face the whole way.

Ava’s mouth opened. Her breath caught. Her hands came up and found his shoulders and held on.

"There," she whispered. "There, there, there~"

He fucked her. He fucked her the way he’d promised, no holding back, no mercy, the full weight of the mark behind every stroke, and Ava took him.

She took all of him, her body opening to him the way it always did, and the link flared and the whole room felt it.

On either side of her, the other women gasped and squirmed and started coming again, pulled along by the pulse of Ava’s pleasure, and the bed became a single organism, eight women and one man, all of them moving together in the same rhythm.

Lynx fucked Ava through it. He fucked her through orgasm after orgasm, through the point where her voice gave out, through the point where her thighs stopped being able to hold him and just fell open.

Through the point where she started to cry, not from pain, never from pain, but from the sheer overwhelming too much of it, and he held her face in his hands and kissed the tears off her cheeks and kept going.

"More?" he asked.

"More," she sobbed. "More, more, more..."