The strategist and the alpha conspired to steal Felicity away to the steaming pools hidden deep in tidehaven away from prying eyes.
The first thing Felicity noticed about the Tidehaven hot springs wasn't the scent of salt-drenched wood, nor the pearly mist curling from the water's surface, but the way the men's presence pressed inward, a velvet trap, as soon as she passed through the lintel.
The heat inside was dense and expectant, gathering in the hollow of her throat; already, Victor and Voss had left their outdoor armor behind, standing at the edge of the steaming water with nothing but towels clinging to their hips, and she almost dropped her own slip of linen at the sight of them.
"We're early," Voss said, his voice pitched low so it didn't carry through the fog. "Just us until sundown." He was still logical, calculating, but the boyish flush at his collarbones told her he wasn't immune to the game.
Victor had shed more than his coat his entire face had softened, a rare event, and he reached for her with careful fingers, guiding Felicity into the pool.
The spring's water wicked heat through her bones: she splashed in, clinging to the surface as much as sinking, but Victor simply swept her up and sat her on his lap. He was already hard beneath the towel, a pulse of heat that made her squirm.
"What if someone comes?" she whispered, cheeks burning. "This isn't that is, maybe—"
"No one will." Victor held her by the hips, anchoring her atop him. "Voss paid for a lockout."
Voss followed them into the water with as little ceremony as always. He sat at her side, his thigh pressed to hers, eyes gentle and sharp all at once.
"We wanted you to relax," he said, one hand stroking the arch of her back just where her fluffy tail began. "You've been… very brave. Even when you were scared."
"You did well, kitten." Victor nuzzled at her temple, his jaw scratchy-soft. "Let us take care of you now."
Felicity made a noise somewhere between a whimper and a sigh.
She had expected something clinical, like a team building exercise for new members, but the way their attention pooled onto her total, worshipful left her dizzy and small and wickedly fluttery in the gut.
Victor's hands rubbed lazy circles at her waist, teasing the knot of her towel loose. "You don't have to do anything. Just let go."
She peeked at Voss, who was watching her with that same sharp focus, but also smiling real, crooked, infinitely knowing.
He slid a wet palm along her thigh, pushing the towel up inch by inch until it threatened to float away entirely.
"Cute," he said, ticking her under the chin. "You're the only person alive who would get shy in a hotspring with two beasts."
"I'm not shy" she started, but Victor cupped her jaw and kissed her, muffling whatever complaint she'd meant to make. His mouth was hot, but shockingly gentle; he bit her bottom lip with careful teeth, then licked the sting away, and her hands knotted in the folds of his towel.
She could feel every part of him, every careful flex of muscle and cocky slide of his hard-on against her thigh. She wriggled, desperate to move closer, and that was when Voss slid up behind her, pressing his chest to her back and his lips to her ear.
"She's melting," Voss whispered, and nipped her earlobe.
"Not yet," said Victor. It was a rumble against her throat, a warning and a promise.
Her towel had come undone; she didn't even notice until Victor peeled it away and let it sink, exposing her in the embrace of both men. Instinct made her try to hide, but Voss caught her wrists and pinned them gently behind her, cradling them in one hand as he pressed lazy, open-mouthed kisses along her shoulder. His other hand moved with deliberate slowness across her body, fingers tracing the curve of her breast before cupping its weight, his thumb brushing across the sensitive peak.
The gentle pressure of his touch drew a soft, involuntary sound from her throat that seemed to please him, his grip tightening just enough to make her breath catch.
"You're perfect," Voss breathed, the praise somehow cooler than the spring's steam, and it sent a shiver right through her.
Victor reached down and tugged at her knees, spreading her over his thighs so she was open, offering herself up to the thick length he pressed against her slit.
He was bigger even than she remembered, and the knowledge that Voss was watching helping made her pulse stutter and skip. Victor lined himself up, not entering, just letting the head of his cock slick up and down her folds. The tease was unbearable.
"You always get so wet for us," Victor rasped. "But you're even sweeter when you're embarrassed."
Voss slid his free hand down her belly, pausing just above her clit. "I like seeing you like this," he admitted. "All pink and trembling, but still trying to be good."
When Victor finally pushed inside, Felicity's world compressed to a bright, trembling point. He filled her, slow and careful, holding her hips steady as he sank in inch by inch, stretching her until she couldn't tell the difference between heat and pain and pleasure.
Voss held her hands behind her head, kissing her neck while he murmured cool, soothing nonsense, and the pressure from both sides made her feel small and precious and fever-broken all at once.
Victor set the pace at first, guiding Felicity up and down on his cock until she was gasping, then pausing long enough to let Voss slip a hand between her legs, circling her bud with clever, deft fingers.
Victor's girth pressed her open, a constant, delicious ache; Voss's touch teased her closer, and the combination had her writhing helplessly between them.
When she whimpered, "More," it was Voss's turn to lose control. He let go of her wrists and slid into the water beside Victor, lining himself up at her slick entrance. His cock wasn't quite as thick as Victor's, but longer, the head already glistening from precome.
"Can you take both of us?" he asked, voice a little hoarse.
Felicity could only nod, biting her lip until she tasted blood. She wanted to please them, wanted to be filled until all the tension and fear and loneliness had been scrubbed away.
Voss pushed in beside Victor, a sharp, sweet stretch that left her gasping, and the two men worked in tandem, rocking against her until she was so full she couldn't move, couldn't even think.
Victor kissed her again, soft and greedy, while Voss stroked her hair and whispered, "You're the best girl, sweetheart. Look at you so greedy for us."
They moved in perfect rhythm, alternating quick, shallow thrusts with slow, grinding pressure that set every nerve in her body alight.
She lost track of time; all that existed were their hands, their mouths, the thick, exquisite stretch of being held and cherished and used.
Her own pleasure spiked in waves first, a slow heat radiating from her belly, then a sudden, blinding crest that made her sob into Victor's neck.
Victor grunted, "Gonna come can you take it, kitten?"
Voss answered for her, "She loves it. Give it to her, Victor."
They finished together, Victor and then Voss, both flooding her so full she felt like she might burst, then collapsing against her in the haze of steam and sweat and afterglow.
For a long time after, nobody spoke; Victor just held her close, tucked into the crook of his arm, and Voss pressed cool, gentle kisses along her brow.
After a while, Victor stroked her hair and said, "We need to do this more often."
Voss huffed a laugh and added, "Next time, we'll have to try the northern springs. They say the water up there makes you more sensitive."
Felicity, for her part, could only giggle, soft and drunk with afterglow. "I think," she managed, "I'd like that."
Victor manipulated his ice magic to create a gentle cascade of crystalline water from the hot spring, the droplets glimmering like diamonds as they washed over Felicity's flushed skin.
He deliberately avoided cleansing her most intimate places, a possessive glint in his amber eyes as he savored the knowledge that she still carried their essence within her. The primal part of him wanted that mercenary to catch their combined scent on her an unmistakable claim that would leave no doubt she was theirs. Besides, Victor thought with a curl of his lip, that brute wasn't even Felicity's type. Meanwhile,
Voss stood transfixed, his calculating gaze softened as he watched the water trail down her collarbone, marveling at how her presence had transformed their brutal existence into something worth protecting.