Page 60 of Breeding Justice

Justice's body was a ragdoll in our hands, limp with momentary relief yet still brimming with potential energy. Her breathing was ragged, her chest rising and falling like the waves of a stormy sea. She had given everything in that release, but we knew she had more to give.

Skylar moved to take my place, his eyes meeting mine with an unspoken understanding. This was always the most delicate part—the transition. We prided ourselves on our ability to keep her teetering on the edge, never letting her tip over into the void too soon.

I withdrew slowly, carefully, and Justice let out a soft cry at the loss. Skylar's hands were already on her thighs, spreading her open with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with his usual rough demeanor. He leaned in, kissing her deeply as he guided himself to her entrance.

"Are you ready for me?" Skylar asked, though we all knew the answer.

He positioned himself in front of her in the sofa, her ass hanging off the seat,

legs draped over his shoulders, her body stretched to accommodate his looming presence. Justice's eyes fluttered shut, her lips parting as if she could already feel him within her.

Skylar didn't wait for permission; he knew her too well. With a single, smooth thrust, he buried himself deep, and Justice's body reacted with a violent jerk. Her hands flew to his arms, nails digging into his skin as she tried to anchor herself against the onslaught of sensation.

Skylar set a punishing pace from the start, his hips driving with a brutal efficiency that contrasted with the slow, torturous build-up Justice had endured. Each thrust forced a sharp gasp from her lips, her body too overloaded to process the sheer intensity of it all. She was beyond thought, beyond feeling—an exposed nerve reacting on pure instinct.

Yet even in his aggression, Skylar maintained precise control. He knew exactly how far he could push her, how much her body could take without tipping into numbness. With the wound on his side, he was even more careful than usual. His hands roamed her sweat-slicked skin, alternating between rough squeezes and gentle caresses, keeping her sensations varied and acute.

Zane and Hassan had not been idle. Zane's fingers played delicately over Justice's nipples, tweaking and rolling them in time with Skylar's thrusts. Hassan had moved to kiss along her collarbone, his touch a soothing counterpoint to the maelstrom that Skylar was creating.

I watched from the side, my own arousal a tight knot in my stomach. This was our ritual, our way of worshiping the woman who held us all together. God, I loved fucking her, and I loved watching her get fucked.

Skylar's breathing grew harsher, more ragged, each exhale a growl of suppressed ecstasy. He was close, and we all sensed it. Justice’s eyes fluttered open, locking onto mine with a desperate intensity.

"Bash," she mouthed silently, and I knew what she was asking.

I moved behind Skylar, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Finish," I commanded softly.

With a final, forceful thrust, Skylar buried himself as deep as he could, his body going rigid as he emptied into her. Justice bit her lip, her hands clutching at Skylar's biceps as she absorbed the heat of his release. The room seemed to hold its breath, the tension like a drawn bowstring.

Skylar pulled out slowly, his seed trickling from her in a lazy stream. He staggered back, spent but satisfied, and I caught him before he could collapse. We shared a brief before he turned to find his place beside Zane.

Justice lay sprawled on the sofa, her skin glowing with a sheen of sweat, the living room smelling so much like sex it was almost suffocating. Her eyes were half-closed, her body anexquisite tableau of ruin and readiness. This was the calm before the storm, the eye of the hurricane where everything paused just long enough for us to take stock of the damage—and to anticipate the next wave.

I knelt beside her, brushing a strand of damp hair from her face. "How are you holding up?" I asked, though I already knew. She thrived in these moments, as drained as she looked, there was a spark in her eyes that told me she was far from finished.

"I'm alive," she whispered, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. "For now."

“I’m going to fuck you now,” I said.

This was the moment I lived for, the moment where all the build-up, all the orchestrated tension, came to a head. The moment where I took what was mine.

The other men were silent, their breathing the only sound in the room. They knew their roles now; they knew when to stand back and let me lead.

I climbed onto the sofa, positioning myself over her. Her legs spread instinctively, welcoming me even as her body tensed in anticipation. I could feel Skylar's cum, still warm and slick, as I pressed against her entrance. This wasn't going to be gentle; it couldn't be. We had set a pace, a rhythm, and to break it now would be crueler than anything I could do to her physically.

With a savage thrust, I buried myself inside her, and the mixture of pain and pleasure that shot through her was almost tangible. Justice's mouth opened in a silent scream, her hands clutching at the sofa as if it could save her from drowning in us.

Her body clenched around me, a searing tightness that was both painful and exquisitely pleasurable. I drove into her with unrelenting force, each thrust an explosion of pent-up desire and rage. Justice's hands scrabbled at my back, my shoulders, pulling me closer, urging me deeper.

"Bash," she gasped, her voice breaking. "Bash, please."

I didn't slow. I couldn't. Her words fueled me, igniting a fire that burned through every rational thought. We were a storm, a hurricane of flesh and need, tearing through the fragile structures of our bodies.

Justice's cries grew louder, more desperate, each one a plea for release that I ruthlessly denied her. My mind was a torrent of memories: the first time I kissed her, the night she chose us over her safe, predictable life. Every moment we had shared flashed before me, feeding the maelstrom inside me.

I felt the edge approaching, that razor-thin line between control and oblivion. Justice was right there with me, her body a coiled spring ready to snap. I leaned down, my lips brushing her ear.

"Do you see the stars yet?" I whispered, my voice rough with impending climax.

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