Page 82 of The Silent War
“Angel,” Luca murmured, “look at me.”
Her eyes flicked open. He held her there, his thumb brushing her cheek as he kissed her soft, then rougher, devouring every gasp I pulled from her with my hand.
“That’s it,” he coaxed. “That’s our girl, being nice and loud.”
I curled my fingers just right, dragging across the spot that made her break. Her thighs tightening around my wrist.
“Breathe, baby,” I muttered, kissing her temple. “Daddy’s got you. Daddy’s going to take his time.”
“Bastion—”
“Shh,” I soothed, never stopping. “Don’t hide it. Give it to us.” I kissed her shoulder. “Moan,” then I kissed her throat, “Whimper for us.”
Luca caught her lower lip between his teeth, groaning against her mouth. “Fuck, you’re beautiful. Are you clenching on Daddy’s fingers?”
Her nails dug into his shoulders, leaving marks.
“He asked a question, baby. Answer him or Daddy’s fingers will stop.”
She opened her eyes. “Yes, I’m—” She gasped.
“You’re enjoying it, baby, mm?” Luca cupped her face. “Want Daddy to get his own answers, so you keep whimpering?”
She nodded.
“Good girl,” I praised, voice ragged now. “Such a good girl, letting us ruin you like this.”
Luca’s fingers joined mine.
She tried to fight it, tried to hold the sound in, but I felt her give in.
“Fuck. You’re about to come, aren’t you, baby?” My hand tightened on her stomach.
She started clenching hard around my fingers. We kept giving her exactly what she needed, until she shook in both our arms.
Luca swallowed her cry with a kiss, his other hand steady at her jaw. “Ours,” he whispered against her lips. “Every sound. Every breath. Ours.”
I slowed my hand, easing her down, murmuring into her wet hair. “That’s it, baby. That’s our good girl. So fucking beautiful when you come for us.”
Her head dropped against my shoulder, chest rising fast between us.
She laughed once, broken, soft. “God. You two?—”
“Not God,” I cut in, brushing her cheek with my knuckles. “Just yours.”
She dropped between us, her head tucked on my shoulder, chest still rising too fast. The water carried her weight, but we didn’t let it. We held her.
My hand slid from her hips up her spine, palm flat, steady. “Easy, baby. We’ve got you.”
Her laugh came small, shaky. “I… can’t feel my legs.”
She moved slightly, only to lean on Luca. Between us where she belonged.
“Good,” I muttered, pressing my mouth to the side of her throat. “Means we did it right.”
“Angel,” Luca whispered, kissing her temple. “You’re safe. Breathe for us.”
She did. Slow, soft. Each inhale steadier than the last, her body melting into ours.
