Page 93 of The Silent War
They traded me then, seamless. Bastion pushed into me again while Luca held my face.
Bastion groaned, grinding deep. “Good girl, letting Daddy fuck you while he watches. Look at her, Luca—she’s ours.”
Luca stroked my cheek. “Only ours. Always.”
“Good girl,” Bastion hand held me tighter.
“Such a good fucking girl for us.” Luca groaned softly, his hand brushing down my stomach.
My lips parted, a weak sound slipping out as I melted against them. “Mmm…” I couldn’t form words, only leaned heavier into Bastion’s chest, my body boneless.
His arms tightened around me, anchoring me against him. “You tired, baby?”
“Yes,” I whispered, my eyes fluttered shut.
Luca kissed the side of my face. “You did such a good job for us, baby. It was a lot, wasn’t it? But you still took it.”
Bastion’s lips brushed my ear. “We really are so fucking proud of you. For taking both your daddies like this”
Tears stung my eyes. I nodded faintly.
“Love you, angel,” Luca whispered, kissing the corner of my mouth.
“So fucking much, baby. Always.” Bastion added my neck.
Luca caught my face, forcing me to look at him even as tears streaked my cheeks. “One more time, baby. Then you’ll sleep.”
Bastion kissed my ear, whispering. “You can do it. Just once more. You’re such a good girl for us. Can you come one more time for your daddies? Drip down our cocks for us baby?”
The last thing I felt was their mouths on me, their voices wrapped around me .
My body gave out at last, and the way they kissed me, praised me. It broke me in a way I’d forgotten was possible.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
BASTION
The phones hadn’t stopped all night. The world pressed against us in buzzing reminders—calls, missed messages, Rome waiting on reports. I ignored all of it. Luca ignored all of it too. Nothing mattered outside this room. Not after last night.
Emilia lay between us, naked, the sheet on her hips. She breathed softly, face turned toward Luca.
I could have watched her for hours. I did.
Every part of me wanted to wake her. To roll her onto her back and kiss her until she gasped, to worship every inch until she forgot there was a world outside this bed. It took everything I had not to. I held still instead, memorizing the weight of her against the mattress, the way her hair clung to her cheek, the faint tremor of her chest as she slept.
Last night had been a beginning. She had given us pieces of herself she had not let go of in years.
She had let herself be vulnerable again, even if only for moments. That didn’t come easily for her. She had been raised to hide every crack, to smile through pain, to keep the dynasty mask in place until she couldn’t breathe.
Letting us see her soft was an act of defiance against everything she had been taught.
And she had done it. For us.
I was proud of her. Really fucking proud of her.
Luca was awake, too. I didn’t need to look to know. His hand moved in a steady rhythm against her arm, fingers tracing lightly, keeping her anchored even in sleep.
He hadn’t looked at his phone once, though it vibrated just inches away on the nightstand. Neither of us would move. Rome could carry the empire until we were ready to answer.
