Apocalypse Rebirth: Making Billions With My Fortune-Telling Skill

Nat didn’t give April time to adjust. He hooked one of her legs high over his hip, planted his other hand firmly beside her head, and started fucking her in earnest. Hard, deep strokes that slammed her back against the wood with every thrust. The door rattled faintly in its frame.

April’s moans spilled out unchecked—high, breathless, and far too clear.

”Ah— Nat... slower—”

”No.” His lips found her neck, his teeth graving the skin like he was preparing for a bite. ”You can take it. You’ve taken me before. Now be loud for me.”

He snapped his hips harder, angling until he dragged against that spot that made her vision spark. A louder cry ripped from her, raw and unrestrained.

Samuel’s hands curled into fists by his side. He stood perfectly still in the corridor, expression blank, but the muscle in his jaw jumped once, hard. Every wet slap of skin, every broken moan of Nat’s name, every creak of the door under the force of Nat’s thrusts traveled straight through the wood and into his ears like a deliberate torment.

Inside, Nat’s pace turned punishing.

”That’s it,” he growled against her ear, his voice thick with dark satisfaction. ”Let him hear how good you sound when you’re full of me. Let that obsessed bastard stand out there knowing exactly what’s happening to you and knowing he can’t do a fucking thing about it.”

April’s fingers dug into his shoulders. Her free leg trembled where it barely held her weight. The stretch was intense—Nat never went easy—but the heat coiling low in her belly was already threatening to snap.

”Nat... I’m—”

”I know.” He bit down on the junction of her neck and shoulder, not hard enough to break skin but hard enough to leave a mark. ”Cum for me. Do it loud.”

The next thrust drove her over.

April’s cry cracked against the door, high and shaking, her body clamping down around him as the orgasm ripped through her. Nat fucked her through it without slowing, chasing his own release with rough, erratic strokes until he slammed home one final time and came with a guttural groan against her throat.

For several long seconds the only sounds were their ragged breathing and the faint creak of the door settling.

Nat stayed buried deep, forehead pressed to hers, golden eyes half-lidded and satisfied.

Outside, Samuel remained motionless.

His breathing was carefully measured. His expression was perfectly composed. But behind the lenses of his glasses, something dark and raw burned. He could still hear the soft, wet sound of Nat pulling out of her. Could still hear April’s shaky exhale. Could still smell the faint, unmistakable scent of sex that had begun to seep under the doorframe.

But he did not move from where he stood.

He simply stood there in the silent corridor, enduring every second of it, the ache in his chest and the hard strain in his trousers both carefully, ruthlessly ignored.

Nat finally eased back just enough to look down at April’s flushed face. A slow, wicked smirk curved his mouth.

”Round one,” he murmured, voice still rough. ”Hope you’re not tired yet, sweetheart. Because I’m nowhere near done with you.”

He reached past her, turned the lock with a deliberate click, and then carried her deeper into the dark suite—leaving the door, and Samuel, firmly on the other side.

April couldn’t even count how many times they went at it after that. By the time her second climax ripped through her body, her mind had descended into a glorious, delirious haze.

And truthfully? Nat was no different than an untamed stallion.

Left to do as he pleased, he would have taken her all night—and she wouldn’t have been able to stop him even if she tried. Because, in all honesty, she enjoyed every single ecstatic moment of it.

Being bent over, shifted effortlessly into different positions, worshipped with breathless, feverish kisses—it was intoxicating. Every time she looked up into his dark, tempting eyes, she saw the raw reflection of her own depravity staring back at her in his blown-out pupils, and she fell deeper and deeper into the abyss of him.

She loved the feeling, and loved the man who could fill her up and make her feel complete.

The endless marathon only came to a halt when the distant, distinct sound of an engine pulled up to the estate below—Xavier had returned.

Nat had paused mid-stroke, a dark, dangerous glint in his eyes as he leaned down and whispered rasply against her ear that he would rather stop now than watch as the others joined in to eat her up.

Selfish and greedy—that was Nat.

So he stopped. Following Samuel’s quiet, stoic directive through the door—as if he suspected Nat would not perform the basic aftercare—Nat carried April’s completely spent, soft body into the adjoining bathroom.

He gently washed her down in the warm water, his hands unusually tender as he cleaned every trace of their intercourse off her skin. Afterward, he put her to bed, settling into the armchair beside her nightstand to watch her sleep, a deeply contented, arrogant smirk plastered on his lips.

He wished he could continue feasting on her. She felt so damn good—so tight, so warm, so responsive—better than anything he hd ever experienced. He felt like he could melt right into her skin.

But deep down, a bitter, jagged edge gnawed at his chest. She was a meal that wasn’t his alone, and the sheer thought of sharing her made dark, possessive thoughts swirl in his mind. He wanted to hoard her, to lock her away, to steal her for himself permanently.

Under normal circumstances, he might have already carried her off to some isolated stronghold. But he knew what was lurking on the horizon. The apocalypse was coming.

And when the world finally shattered, the real fun would begin.

”For now, sweetheart,” he stroked her hair, ”I’ll behave.”

The next morning, April woke up with every muscle in her body humming with a deep, lingering ache. The sun was barely peeking through the balcony drapes, painting the room in soft hues of lavender and gold.

As she shifted beneath the covers, a sleek blue System panel flickered into existence right before her eyes:

[Quest Reminder]

Primary Objective: Appoint Classes to all Named Pieces. Unlock the ’Family & Associate Tracking Sub-Interface’ to place family member ’Emily’ under Lucky Foresight Protection.

Current Priority: Increase Oliver Baxter’s Trust Value to 100% and complete his class appointment.

Warning: Host, you are running out of time.

The reminder sent a sharp prickle of cold reality through her, instantly cutting through the warm, lingering haze of last night’s indulgence.

The apocalypse wasn’t just a distant threat—it was a ticking clock. And Emily... sweet, oblivious Emily who was enjoying every moment with her sweet chef—moments that tasted like raspberry macarons... was completely exposed without that system protection.

Lucky Foresight Protection, April thought, her mind instantly shifting back into hyper-analytical judge mode. I need that interface unlocked before it’s too late.

Oliver was sitting at 81%. She needed nineteen more percentage points of absolute, unshakeable trust from a man who analyzed every human emotion like a biological malfunction. A man who had just broken his own clinical code yesterday to kiss her toe in public, only to immediately pull his white coat back on and retreat into scientific rationalization.

She was lost before when he stood his ground, but there was a way to win his trust after all.

The door to her suite clicked open softly.

Samuel walked inside carrying a silver tray with a steaming porcelain cup of honey-lemon tea and a folded silk robe.

He was wearing white gloves that showed not a single crease, his posture stiff and pristine, but as his dark eyes settled on April sitting up in bed—her hair tumbled over her shoulders, her skin flushed with the unmistakable marks of Nat’s rough hands—a tight, tiny pulse worked in his jaw.

”Good morning, Miss April,” Samuel said, his voice smooth and low, carrying not a single trace of the torment he had endured standing outside her door all night.

”Good morning, Samuel, but...” she looked at the gloves. ”when did you start wearing gloves?”

He set the tray onto her nightstand with effortless precision. ”I found it rather comfortable and... fitting,” he said simply and she wondered if it was the Stewad class in effect. ”Also, I took the liberty of preparing a herbal infusion to soothe your voice and relax your muscles.”

April looked at him, catching the faint, unreadable glint behind his glasses. A subtle, mischievous smile touched her lips. ”You’re indispensable, Samuel. How are the others holding up down there?”

”Dr. Baxter returned from his emergency surgery at four in the morning and has been sitting in the library reviewing medical journals ever since,” Samuel reported seamlessly, handing her the warm cup. ”Mr. Collins is currently in the courtyard sparring with his guards to burn off his... excess energy. Mr. Reed and Mr. Greel have both returned to the estate and are awaiting you in the dining room.”

”Oliver is in the library?” April asked, raising an eyebrow over the rim of her cup as she took a slow sip.

”Yes, Miss April. He’s alone.” Samuel leaned down slightly, his fingers lingering near hers as he adjusted the tray.