Chapter 113 - To Give Gareth a Pleasant Gift

His cock swelled. She felt it—felt the additional thickness, the way her pussy stretched another impossible fraction—and then he came.

The flood was immediate and devastating. Hot and thick and far too much. It hit her cervix with the first pulse and she felt it in her spine.

Her orgasm tore through her before the second pulse landed.

Not a gentle orgasm. Not the controlled kind she’d given herself privately, the kind she’d managed with occasional partners.

This was structural. This was her entire nervous system overloading simultaneously—every nerve from her toes to the back of her skull firing at once—this was her body rewriting itself around a new definition of sensation.

"’’AAAAAAA~!!♡♡♡’’"

Fluid sprayed from her pussy around his cock. Gushed down her thighs. Pooled on the sheets beneath them.

Her womb filled. Swelled. She felt bloated. Heavy. Full in a way she’d never felt.

Then Raven pulled out.

And threw her.

Not violently. But with complete indifference. Her body left his grip and landed on the bed, bouncing once, twice, rolling into the sheets.

She lay there.

Her pussy gaped. Seed ran from her entrance in thick, continuous streams, pooling beneath her ass. Her chest heaved. Her eyes stared at the ceiling, seeing nothing, processing nothing.

’He won’, some distant part of her brain offered. ’Every man I ever used. Every position I ever calculated. Every performance I ever gave.’

’He won all of it without trying.’

Her fingers twitched once.

Then she was still.

Raven stood.

His cock hung between his legs—wet, heavy, half-hard, coated in the remnants of everything—and he turned.

Four women in various states of consciousness stared back at him.

Yuna on the bed, both hands pressed between her legs, breathing ragged.

Priya sitting up, empty-eyed but awake, thighs soaked.

Clara hugging her knees, glasses gone, lips slightly parted.

And Veronica on the mattress behind him, leaking and twitching and alive in the loosest sense of the word.

"Clean it," he said simply.

Nobody hesitated.

Yuna moved first. She slid off the bed and went to her knees in front of him—the position was becoming familiar now, natural almost, her knees finding the floor like they remembered—and tilted her head up.

His cock was right there. Still semi-hard. Gleaming.

She dragged her tongue from base to head, slowly, like that first time. Like savoring something.

The smell hit her first. Pungent and thick and overwhelming—sweat and sex and the accumulated evidence of every woman in this room. A faint musk from the dark hair above the base of his shaft. Sharp enough to make her nostrils prickle.

She licked again.

"’Mmmmnh~’"

Priya crawled across the bed and lowered herself to his other side. Her pussy ached with every movement but she didn’t stop. Her face pressed against the base of his cock, her mouth finding his balls.

She cupped them in both hands.

Heavy. Warm. She pressed her lips against one and sucked softly, her tongue moving in small circles. Her eyes closed.

"’Mmmhh~’"

Clara moved to flank Yuna on the other side. Her lips dragged along the shaft from a different angle, and where her tongue and Yuna’s accidentally met—both women flinched, paused, then continued anyway.

Three mouths.

Three sets of hands.

All of them working him in a silence broken only by wet sounds and soft moans and the occasional sharp intake of breath.

Raven stood above them like something carved. Like a monument to something ancient and certain. He looked down at the crown of three bowed heads, at three pairs of hands moving across his skin, at three faces tilted upward in various states of helpless devotion.

"I’m going to fuck all of your asses today," he said.

The silence held for exactly one second.

Then Yuna moaned against his shaft.

"’Nnnngh♡~’"

Not a sound of protest.

Priya made a broken noise against his balls and her thighs pressed together so hard she felt her own pulse between them. Fluid leaked from her destroyed pussy onto the floor beneath her.

Clara made a sound that was half-sob, half-moan, and her tongue pressed harder against him.

All three of their bodies reacted before their minds could argue. Pussies clenched. Nipples hardened. Thighs pressed together and then fell apart, slick and aching.

Raven looked down at them from above.

From the bed, Veronica’s unfocused eyes tracked the scene. Her breathing had steadied slightly. Her mind was returning in fragments, picking up pieces of herself from where they’d scattered across the floor.

’Every man’, she thought slowly, ’I ever fucked. I was always the one with the power.’

’I never understood what it felt like to have none.’

She watched three women worship his cock with their mouths and their hands and the soft sounds of absolute submission, and felt the contract burning at her collarbone like a brand.

’I do now’, she finished.

Below him, Yuna looked up.

His cock curved above her face like something divine. His body was lit from above—all shadow and muscle and impossible proportions—and he looked down at her with those purple eyes that didn’t blink, that didn’t waver, that contained something inhuman and vast.

A breeding god, she thought. That’s what he looked like.

A god who had decided to notice them.

Her pussy gushed onto the floor without her touching it.

She moaned against his cock, eyes rolling, and kept licking.

"’Mmmhh♡~ Aaahh♡~’"

Yuna was still on her knees when he looked at her.

Not looked ’toward’ her. ’At’ her. That specific kind of attention—like a blade turned flat and pressed, not cutting, just letting you feel the weight of it.

She was still mouthing his shaft, still licking in slow reverent strokes, Priya somewhere at the base and Clara somewhere between both of them, all three breathing through their noses, all three pretending they weren’t aware of each other’s tongues occasionally grazing the same skin.

Raven’s hand settled on Yuna’s head.

Not gripping. Just resting. The weight of it alone made her slow down.

She looked up.

His purple eyes were calm. That’s the thing about him she couldn’t make sense of. He was never excited. Never flushed. Never anything that looked like what she felt.

He looked at her the way someone looks at a piece of work they’re planning to begin.

"Your pussy," he said quietly, "is going to be deflowered."

Yuna froze.

Her tongue stopped. Her whole body stopped. Behind his cock, Priya kept moving, unaware, her mouth working against the base, but Yuna had gone completely still, his words sitting in her chest like a dropped stone.

"Not tonight," Raven continued. His thumb moved once against her scalp—slow, almost gentle. "In a bed."

She blinked.

"Gareth’s bed."

The stone hit the bottom.

Her hands, which had been cupped around his shaft, went slack. She stared up at him with wide, glassy eyes, her lips parted, still wet from his cock, and she said absolutely nothing because there was nothing to say—her mind was spinning the gears but every gear was stripped, every logical framework she’d been quietly trying to maintain over the last hours was just—

’Gareth’s bed.’

’His bed. Where he sleeps.’

She hadn’t even realized her mouth had found the head of his cock again until the taste registered. Her throat worked involuntarily, and she felt the back of her eyes go strange.

"I’m going to take it there," Raven said, still in that same quiet register, conversational like he was planning a grocery run, "in his sheets. Under his ceiling. So when he comes back and sleeps where you were fucked open—" his thumb pressed slightly harder against her skull— "he’ll know exactly what he lost. Down to the inch."

’Down to the inch.’