One of the groomsmen takes charge, even as Felicity recovers from the shock

One of the groomsmen, a dark-haired, tattooed man named Alex, stepped forward and took her hand, pulling her away from James. "Let's get you out of this dress, shall we?" he said, his voice a gruff whisper that sent a bolt of electricity through her. With trembling fingers, she allowed him to unzip her gown, the sound echoing in the quiet room. The garment slipped from her shoulders, pooling around her feet, leaving her in just her delicate white lingerie and stockings.

Alex's eyes raked over her, and she felt a strange thrill at his blatant appraisal.

"Fuck me," said Marcus, a blond with a piercing gaze, his voice thick with desire. "You look like a fucking present, waiting to be unwrapped." His words sent a rush of heat through her body, and she could feel her pussy growing wetter, her thong becoming drenched. James's grip on her waist tightened, his eyes flashing with something primal as he watched his friends ogle her.

"She's a fucking work of art," added Thomas, a burly redhead with a devilish smile. "And I can't wait to get my hands on that ass." Felicity's face burned as his words painted a vivid picture of what was to come. The thought of being used by these men was terrifying, but the way James was watching her, his eyes dark and intense, told her that this was part of the game he had set in motion.

Alex stepped closer, his hand reaching out to trace the line of her collarbone before sliding down to the lacy cup of her bra. "Such a sweet little thing," he murmured, his fingertips brushing against the swell of her breast. "But I bet she's got a wild side just waiting to be unleashed." Marcus and Thomas chuckled in agreement, their eyes roving over her body like hungry predators eyeing their prey.