Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 142

SYBILLA'S POV

The lounge in the Silver Moon Tower was just a backdrop—fancy lights, whatever. I didn’t give a fuck about it.

I was here to fuck my way to the top, and Marcus, Viktor, and Julian were my ticket. Lycan men with cash and clout, they’d get me what I wanted: power, status, a permanent spot in Privilege.

They called me the “Golden Whore” behind my back, laughing in their elevators, but I’d make them choke on that name. My red lace dress barely covered my tits and ass, and as I walked in, their eyes were glued to me, dicks already twitching. Good. I’d fuck them senseless and own them.

Marcus, all silver hair and muscle, grabbed me first, his big hands ripping my dress up to my waist.

“Show me that pussy,” he growled, and I spread my legs wide, letting him see how wet I was. Viktor, lean and cold-eyed, was already unzipping his pants, his cock hard and ready. Julian, smirking like he owned the place, pressed up behind me, his lips sucking my neck, leaving bruises I’d wear like medals. I wanted them desperate, and I’d fuck them until they begged.

I dropped to my knees on the cold marble floor, yanking Julian’s pants down. His cock popped out, thick and pulsing, and I sucked it deep, my lips tight around him, tongue flicking the tip. He groaned, grabbing my hair, fucking my mouth hard.

“Shit, you’re a pro,” he panted, thrusting deeper, hitting my throat. I gagged but kept going, sucking him sloppy, spit dripping down my chin. Marcus watched, jerking his cock through his pants, eyes on my stretched lips. Viktor stepped closer, his hand on my shoulder, waiting his turn.

I pulled off Julian’s cock with a wet pop, and Viktor didn’t waste time. He shoved me onto the leather couch, ass up, face down, my pussy dripping and exposed. He tore my panties off, the lace ripping loud, and jammed two fingers inside me, pumping rough, testing how tight I was. I moaned, pushing back, my cunt clenching around him.

“Fucking soaked,” he muttered, adding a third finger, stretching me until I gasped, my body shaking with need.

Marcus climbed onto the couch, kneeling in front of me, his pants gone. His cock was massive, thick and veined, and I grabbed it, stroking fast, my tongue licking the salty precum off the head. He fisted my hair, shoving his cock down my throat, so deep I choked, tears streaming, but I sucked harder, my throat squeezing him. He growled, fucking my face, his balls slapping my chin.

Julian stood beside us, jerking his cock, watching me get railed from both ends. “Fuck, she’s a perfect slut,” he said, voice thick with lust.

Viktor’s fingers slid out, and I felt his cock at my pussy, hot and hard. He slammed in, one rough thrust, filling me so deep I screamed, the sound muffled by Marcus’s cock. Viktor fucked me hard, his hips slapping my ass, the wet smack echoing in the room. Each thrust shoved me forward, driving Marcus’s cock deeper into my throat, my spit and tears mixing, my body rocking between them. I loved it—the fullness, the rawness, the way I made them lose control.

Julian wasn’t sitting out. He climbed onto the couch, squeezing between us, grabbing my tits, pinching my nipples so hard I yelped. His mouth latched onto one, sucking and biting, his tongue flicking fast, sending jolts straight to my pussy. I moaned louder, my body on fire, every thrust from Viktor, every suck from Julian, pushing me closer to the edge. I ground my hips back, fucking Viktor’s cock harder, my pussy so wet it dripped down my thighs.

“Goddamn, she’s tight,” Viktor grunted, spanking my ass, the sting making me clench around his cock. He fucked me faster, his cock slamming my cervix, each hit making me scream. Marcus was close, his cock swelling in my mouth, and he yanked out, roaring as he came, hot cum splattering my face, dripping down my cheeks and lips. I licked it off, staring him down, daring him to want more. He collapsed back, panting, but his eyes never left me.

Viktor wasn’t done. He pounded harder, his cock stretching me, my pussy gripping him as I felt the pressure build. I screamed, my orgasm hitting like a freight train, my cunt spasming, milking his cock. He cursed, pulling out, his cum shooting across my ass, thick and warm, running down my thighs. I was shaking, barely holding up, but Julian was ready, flipping me onto my back, spreading my legs wide.

He shoved his cock in, bottoming out in one brutal thrust, my pussy still throbbing from Viktor. He fucked me like a machine, his hips slamming mine, the wet slap of our bodies loud as hell. My tits bounced with every thrust, and he grabbed them, squeezing, his thumb rubbing my clit hard.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, sweat dripping onto my chest. I clawed his back, my nails digging in, another orgasm building, my pussy squeezing his cock so tight he growled.

He rubbed my clit faster, rough, and I came again, screaming, my body convulsing, my pussy gushing around him. He pulled out, jerking his cock, and shot his load across my stomach, ropes of cum pooling on my skin. I lay there, fucked out, my body slick with their cum, my breath ragged. They slumped around me, cocks soft, faces smug, like they’d won something.

“She’s fucking perfect,” Julian said, lighting a cigarette, his eyes on my cum-covered body. Viktor nodded, wiping sweat off his brow. “They weren’t lying about her.” Marcus’s grin was dark, hungry. “Golden Whore, worth every second.”

I stood, my dress in shreds, their cum still on my skin. I didn’t bother covering up. Let them stare. They’d talk about this, in their elevators, their boardrooms, bragging about my pussy, my mouth. Fine. I’d use their dicks, their money, to climb higher than they could dream. I walked out, their cum dripping down my legs, my steps steady. They could call me a whore. I’d make them beg for more.