Page 68 of The Silent War
The ache climbed sharper, needier. I was already close. Too close.
“Not yet,” Luca warned. “Hold it. Count with me.”
“I can’t,” I gasped.
“You can baby, for us. Count. One.”
I shook my head against the pillow. “Please.”
“Two,” Luca continued. “Three. Breathe. Four. Hold. Five?—”
“Beg,” Bastion said, “Daddy wants to hear it.”
“Please,” I whispered, voice breaking.
“Louder,”
“Please,”
“There she is,” Luca murmured. “That’s our angel.”
“That’s my good girl,” Bastion praised, rough but proud. “Now slow.”
My body was trembling.
“Hold it again,” Luca ordered.
A sob of frustration tore out of me.
“That’s it,” he said, satisfied. “Control. That’s what makes you ours.”
“I hate you,” I panted.
“You love us,” Bastion said.
“We love you,” Luca added.
The cage snapped tighter. Their voices pressing from both sides.
“Now,” Luca commanded, sharp. “Let go.”
“Come for us, baby,” Bastion demanded.
“That’s our girl, nice and loud,”
The rush broke through me. My body arched, shaking, climax ripping raw as I gasped into the phone. My voice echoed in my own ears, mixed with theirs.
I collapsed back against the sheets, chest heaving.
“Breathe,” Luca murmured. “Slow, angel.”
“Good girl,” Bastion said, softer now. “Daddy’s proud.”
A shaky laugh slipped out of me. “I hate you for knowing exactly what I needed.”
“No,” Luca said gently. “You love us for it.”
“Only ours,” Bastion added. “You hear me, angel? You touch yourself, it’s for us. You breathe like this, it’s for us.”
