Chapter 100- The Breaking Point

Her voice was startled. Desperate.

Yuna’s body followed.

She floated up beside Hana, still mostly unconscious, her limbs hanging loose, head lolling to the side. Cum-streaked face catching the light.

Both women hovered in the air for a moment.

Then they drifted—smoothly, like they were being carried by invisible servants—across the room.

Toward the massive king-size bed draped in blood-red sheets.

They settled onto the mattress with barely a sound. Hana’s thick body sank into the expensive fabric. Yuna’s smaller form lay beside her, chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.

Sophia stared.

Clara’s mouth hung open.

Priya made a small, broken sound.

"How..."

Raven ignored the question.

He turned back to Veronica.

She was still pressed against the wall, breathing hard, the toys clutched so tightly in her hands her knuckles had gone white.

His gaze dropped to the silk rope wrapped around her wrist.

"Tie Hana’s body with the rope you have," he said simply. His voice was calm. Matter-of-fact. Like he was asking her to pass the salt. "I want to destroy her body."

Veronica’s breath hitched.

Her eyes—still glassy with alcohol and arousal—flicked from his face to the bed. To Hana’s thick, trembling form sprawled across the red sheets.

Then back to him.

Slowly, she nodded.

"Yes," she whispered.

The word came out reverent. Obedient.

She pushed off the wall. Stumbled slightly—heels and alcohol and pheromones making her coordination poor—but caught herself. Walked toward the bed with her toys still clutched in her hands.

Raven turned back to the three new women.

His shadow fell across them. Long. Dark. Consuming.

All three of them looked up.

Up at his face. At those impossible purple eyes. At the sharp lines of his jaw and the cruel curve of his smile.

At his cock, now fully hard again. Nine inches. Thick as a wrist. The head flushed dark and dripping.

He took a step forward.

They flinched backward.

But there was nowhere to go.

"Now then," Raven purred, his voice soft and dangerous. "Let’s see what you three taste like."

Clara felt the grip before she saw the movement.

Fingers—thick, strong, impossibly warm—wound through her hair at the base of her skull. The sensation made her gasp, made her glasses slip further down her nose as her head was pulled backward with effortless control.

"Ah—wait—"

Her protest died as she found herself staring directly at it.

His cock.

Nine inches. Maybe more. Thick enough that her fingers wouldn’t touch if she wrapped both hands around it. The head was flushed dark purple, almost angry-looking, with a thick vein running up the underside that pulsed visibly with his heartbeat. Pre-cum beaded at the slit, catching the light as it threatened to drip.

It was right there. Inches from her face. Close enough that she could smell it—that masculine musk mixed with the lingering scent of sex, of the women he’d already destroyed. The heat radiating from it warmed her cheek.

Her breath caught.

"Look at it properly," Raven’s voice came from above, smooth and commanding. "This is what bought your husband’s promotion. This is what made you rich in five minutes. Don’t you think it deserves some... appreciation?"

Clara’s mouth opened. Closed. Her tongue darted out unconsciously, wetting her suddenly dry lips.

That’s when she felt it—the slickness between her own thighs. The uncomfortable, shameful wetness that had been building since the sweet smell filled the room. Her body was betraying her, responding to pheromones and power and the sheer wrongness of the situation in ways her mind couldn’t justify.

Beside her, Sophia let out a strangled sound.

Clara’s eyes flicked sideways. Sophia had one hand pressed between her legs through her skirt, fingers digging into the fabric. Her face was flushed crimson, eyes wide and glassy. She was staring at Raven’s body—at the way muscles shifted under skin, at the broad shoulders and defined chest and abs that looked carved from marble.

On Clara’s other side, Priya had gone completely still. Her red hair fell across her face, but her breathing was audible—quick, shallow pants that made her chest heave beneath her blazer.

"Jesus," Sophia whispered, and the word came out like a prayer. Or maybe a curse.

Raven’s smile widened.

Then something happened.

Clara couldn’t explain it. One moment she was staring at his cock—still clothed from the waist down, jeans hanging low on his hips—and the next...

The fabric just... wasn’t there anymore.

No pulling. No unbuttoning. No movement at all.

His clothes simply ceased to exist.

One blink, and he was fully naked.

All three women gasped in unison.

Because holy fucking Christ.

Raven’s body was obscene. Not bodybuilder huge—nothing grotesque or exaggerated—but perfectly proportioned in a way that shouldn’t exist outside of Renaissance sculptures or fantasy artwork.

Every muscle was defined without being bulky. His shoulders were broad, tapering to a narrow waist. His thighs were thick with power.

And his cock—god, his cock looked even bigger now, jutting out from a neat patch of dark hair, heavy and demanding and impossible to look away from.

He looked like a god.

Sophia’s hand slipped. Pressed harder between her legs. A small, broken moan escaped her throat.

"Nnh—"

Clara felt her own hand moving. Sliding up her thigh. She didn’t tell it to. It just... moved. Seeking the heat, the ache, the desperate need that was building with every breath of that sweet-scented air.

Raven’s purple eyes tracked every movement. Watched them struggle. Watched them fall.

Then he spoke, and his voice was velvet over steel.

"You two." His gaze flicked between Sophia and Clara. "Suck it."

The command hung in the air.

Sophia’s hands trembled. "I—I can’t—my husband—"

"Your husband just became a millionaire because of me," Raven said simply. "And I promise you, he’ll never know. No one will know. This room doesn’t exist. This moment doesn’t exist. There are no consequences." He tilted his head. "Unless you’d like me to make one phone call and take it all back?"

Clara’s breath hitched.

Twenty million koruna. Her husband’s promotion. The future they’d been struggling toward for years, suddenly handed to them on a silver platter.

All she had to do was...

Her eyes dropped back to his cock. The thick shaft. The swollen head. The bead of pre-cum that had grown into a thin strand, stretching toward the floor.

Her mouth watered.

’Oh god, what’s wrong with me?’

But even as the thought formed, she was leaning forward. Just slightly. Just enough that her glasses slipped down another millimeter and her breath ghosted across heated skin.

Sophia made a sound like a wounded animal. "This is wrong—this is so wrong—"

"Then leave," Raven said mildly. "Walk out that door. Go back to your mediocre life. Pretend you never saw me."

Neither of them moved.

Couldn’t move.

The pheromones were too strong. The need too overwhelming. The sheer gravitational pull of his presence too much to resist.

Sophia’s hand finally dropped from between her legs. Rose slowly. Reached out.

Her fingers wrapped around the base of his shaft.

She gasped at the contact. At the heat. At the way it pulsed against her palm like it had its own heartbeat.

"It’s so—" Her voice cracked. "So thick—"

Clara found her own hand moving. Joining Sophia’s. Their fingers touched, and that small point of contact felt electric. Wrong. Exciting.

Together, they couldn’t fully encircle his girth.

Raven’s chuckle was dark and satisfied. "Good girls. Now use your mouths."

Behind them, movement.

Clara risked a glance over her shoulder just in time to see Raven’s other hand shoot out and grab a fistful of red hair.

Priya yelped—a sharp, startled sound—as she was yanked forward with shocking force.

"Ah—!"