Page 89 of The Silent War

Luca paused, his eyes were glassy with restraint.

Bastion brushed my hair from my cheek. “Give her a little. She’s asking.”

The next roll of his hips, his dick going deeper, and I cried out—surprised, overwhelmed.

“Good girl. Breathe.” Bastion caught the sound with a kiss at my cheek, grounding me. “That’s it. Such a good fucking girl for us.”

He dragged another trembling sound from me, then another, and his gaze burned with reverence as if every sound was holy.

“Tell me how it feels,” he said

“Full. Deep. Like—like I’m supposed to.”

Bastion forehead pressing to my temple. “Ours.”

“Ours,” Luca echoed.

I felt it building. Luca must have felt it too, because hishands softened, his mouth dropped to my knee again, his thrusts staying slow, measured, coaxing rather than chasing.

“Don’t run from it,” he said, low. “Let it come to you.”

“Listen to me,” Bastion whispered. “Just feel.”

I did. The heat climbed. Luca’s control held. I shattered — quieter this time, softer, my body clutching around him as the wave rolled through.

Luca eased out of me with care and lifted me off Bastion’s lap. I felt weightless as he turned around me, then lowered me until I straddled Bastion where he sat braced against the headboard.

“Your turn,” Luca said, and the way he said it sounded like trust.

Bastion’s hands framed my face, thumb at the corner of my mouth. He looked wrecked and gentle at once. “You set the pace,” he said.

I nodded. I took him in my hand, guided him to me, and sank down slowly. He swore under his breath, the sound torn and reverent, his fingers digging into my hips as if he didn’t trust his own restraint. The stretch came but I was ready for it, and Bastion’s eyes, God, the way he watched me.

“Stop me if?—”

“I won’t need to,” he said, voice wrecked. “You’re perfect.”

I set the rhythm. Small at first, careful. Bastion groaned helplessly every time I found a depth that made both of us gasp. Luca stood near the foot of the bed, watching.

“It isn’t fair,” breathless and a little drunk on the heat. “I could— I could take you in my mouth.” I looked at Luca, heat racing to my face. “I could?—”

“No,” Luca said softly, his knuckles running down my back. “Not tonight.”

Bastion’s hands slid to my waist, steadying my pacewithout stealing it. “This is for you,” he said, catching my eyes. “Just you. Watching you is everything.”

My throat closed around the ache of it. I rocked a little deeper and Bastion’s head tipped back, a rough sound escaping him. “Good girl,” his voice broke a little, “Take what you want.”

I did. I moved the way my body asked, slow, then slower, circling down until heat rushed through me. Every time it felt like too much, Bastion’s voice caught me; every time I faltered, Luca’s quiet, praise steadied my hands on Bastion’s chest.

Bastion’s hands trembled where they held me. He was fighting not to take control, fighting himself for me.

“You can,” my hands moving to his shoulders. “You can move me.”

His eyes shot to mine, ruined and hopeful. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

He groaned, a sound low, then his grip shifted. Strong hands locked at my waist, and before I could gasp, he flipped onto the bed. His weight pressed me down, not crushing but grounding, like he needed me pinned where he could see every inch.