Free Vixen Novels & Stories

Something they could no longer ignore. The moment before—the one suspended between desire and action, between restraint and surrender—was over. And what came next… would not be quiet.

Serene tried to yank free before shouting hysterically, "So what if I was? She's nothing! "We grew up together and were meant to be the perfect couple until she appeared out of nowhere and stole you! She's just a lowly Omega, and how could you feel sad because of her! Why can't I slap her? "She's just a bitch—" The crack of Alaric's slap rang out as he could no longer hold back from cutting her off mid-sentence. In an instant, dead silence fell over the cafe.

“Pregnant little Lexie likes what she sees, but she remains… unsatisfied. What are you going to do about it… Mr Jordan?” On the final word, a whisper of a challenge that demanded an answer, I slowly opened my legs, a blatant, open invitation mirroring the predatory hunger burning in his gaze. I watched his sharp, prominent swallow, a flicker of raw vulnerability, as his eyes darkened to a shade of almost-black desire. When Ram finally shed his trousers, standing only in stark black boxers, the visible, undeniable bulge and stiffness beneath the fabric made my breath hitch. A breathless giggle escaped me as the heat in my body intensified. Impulsively, I grabbed the hem of my dress, hiking it

Her name: Elara Vale. The convent called it an external placement program. An act of gratitude for his generous donations. But Damien knew the truth. It was a transaction. And it intrigued him far more than he’d like to admit. A virgin. A girl who had never been touched, never spoken to a man without a prayer on her lips. A girl who would blush at bare ankles, tremble at coarse language, and bow her head when addressed. She would be his maid. Damien wasn’t a man of faith. But he had rituals of his own. And breaking this one would be deliberate. Exquisite.

“But love without possession is nothing. He chose her, Grace, and in doing so, he chose against you. That wound will never close until you own what was denied to you. Think of this not as cruelty, but as correction.” Catherine’s throat worked, but she said nothing. Vivienne let her hand drop. Her gaze returned to the window, where the estate’s gardens lay in shadow. “Tomorrow we flush them again. The men have already boxed in the street near that wretched motel but I want more than bullets and car chases. Fear is a better weapon.” She reached for the desk and clicked on a small recorder. From it came the faintest sound: a baby’s cry, recorded earlier, tinny but real enough to twist the gut.

Vixen➡ Hey, Johnson, nice dick you have, I watched as you fucked the life out of Sophia, its really big, Can I see it? . Johnson ➡ Stop vixen, this is not the place..... . Vixen➡ Nonsense, besides we have lots of time to spare, and these ladies too want to see it. . Johnson ➡ No way, besides I'm spent. . Vixen➡ Okay suit urself, beside you will show it at the party, but before we reach there, here's a little something that will boost ur energy. . Johnson ➡ What's that? .

"So how did it actually go? The meeting? You've been pretty quiet about it." I fiddled with a charger cord, buying a second. "He called me Vixen. Within five minutes of meeting me." I laughed but it came out sharper than I intended. "Because apparently I hunt stories like a fox. That's his read on me after five minutes." I rolled my eyes. "He is so weird, Ty." Tyler raised an eyebrow. "That's… actually kind of accurate." I crossed my arms. "Ty." "And the contract signing?" He asked.

I leaned back against the pole and slowly lifted my skirt, giving my audience a good look at the tight plaid thong that barely covered my soaked pussy. Then, I did a small twerk, making my ass to bounce in the air. My eyes remained pinned on Mark’s smug face as I resisted the urge to close up the distance between us and throw a goddam punch at him. I hated how this made me feel. I hated how it turned me on. That had always been the sick truth of Vixen. It wasn’t just the attention. It wasn’t just the control. It was the humiliation. It was knowing I was being degraded and still getting wet from it.

But now, her voice echoed through my head, filled with urgency and power. “Vixen?” I whispered, my voice trembling as I clutched my head, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions. “Is it really you?” “I don’t have time for your stupid doubts and questions, Kira!” Vixen snapped, her voice ringing with authority which was surprising, she was usually weak, hardly ever talked and her voice sounded different. “Get the fvck up! You need more space before I tear this place apart!”

I was already close, balls tight, pré-cùm slicking my palm, when the toy gave one final stuttering buzz and died. “Fúck,” Vixen laughed, the sound half-annoyed, and half-playful. She sat up straighter and glanced off-camera. “The battery just gave up on me. Give me five minutes, love. I’ll swap in the backup and come back twice as loud. Don’t go anywhere.” The chat lit up with crying emojis and begging. She blew a kiss at the lens, winked, and the feed cut to her looping “BRB” screen: cartoon fox in lingerie holding a little battery sign.