“There she is,” he murmured, his lips twitched up. “Good girl.”
Then his finger slipped inside me again, steady and unhurried. Bastion groaned low against my ear at the sight, tightening his arm. “Fuck. Look at her take your fingers .”
But this time Luca didn’t stop at one. He curled his finger, then added a second, stretching me slow. My legs shook, instinct screaming to close, but Bastion’s thighs braced me open.
“Shh,” he soothed, stroking my neck, tilting my head so he could kiss my cheek. “It’s okay. Just two fingers. You can take that. Can’t you?”
Luca’s jaw flexed as he watched me. “Daddy’s perfect girl. Clenching around my fingers.” His voice roughened. “We’re going to teach you. Stretch you until you’re ready for us again.”
The words sent heat rushing straight through me.
I should protest, say it wasn’t right. Everything in me wanted to deny the pleasure.
Bastion kissed just below my ear. “That’s it. Let him work you open. You can take more than you think, angel. You were made for us.”
Luca’s pace stayed slow, two fingers easing me wider, deeper. Every push felt like a test, every curl a reminder. He pulled them out almost entirely, then slid back in, groaning at how my body resisted and then gave.
“She’s shaking for it,” he muttered, his free hand gripping my thigh. “So wet, Bastion. She’s ready.”
I let out a broken sound, half frustration, half need. “Please?—”
Bastion’s hand stroked my stomach, his thumb brushing circles into my skin. “You want us now, angel?”
“Yes,” I whispered, frantic. “Please.”
He kissed me, so slow, grounding me. “No rush, baby. We’re taking our time remember.”
My head shook. “No, Daddy. I’m ready. I swear.”
Luca stilled his hand inside me, his eyes on mine. “She thinks she’s ready,” he said darkly. “But this isn’t about thinking. This is about letting us show you.”
Bastion’s lips brushed my ear. “Listen to him. He’s right. You don’t decide when you’re ready. We do. And we’ll never give you more than you can take.”
My breath hitched. The words sank into me, heavy and certain. They weren’t leaving me to figure it out alone. They’d carry me through it.
Luca pushed a third finger inside me. Bastion caught me, holding me in place as I arched.
“Breathe, angel,” he murmured, kissing my jaw. “That’s all. Just breathe.”
“Fuck, she’s gripping me like she doesn’t want to let go,” Luca groaned, working me slow, careful. “Hear that, Bastion? She’s opening for us. Wet, and messy.”
Bastion groaned low, his lips pressing hard to my temple. “Good girl. You’re taking us already. You can take more.”
Luca withdrew slowly, his fingers glistening as he slippedfree. He dragged the wetness across my thigh before meeting my eyes again. “One at a time,” he promised, voice low, dark. “We’ll ease you in. No panic. No pain. Just us teaching you how to be ours again.”
Bastion nodded, his breath hot at my ear. “We’ll go slow, angel. I’ll hold you through it. Every inch, every sound, every tear. You’ll take us the way you were meant to.”
My chest heaved, the panic loosening into something else—trust, heavy and terrifying.
Luca leaned closer, his lips brushing my knee. “We’ll ruin you slow. Worship you filthy. By the time we’re done, you won’t remember what it felt like to doubt.”
Bastion tilted my face toward his and kissed me deep, anchoring me.
He eased my wrists down from around his neck and kept my hands in his, bringing them to rest over his heart.
Luca rose between my knees, “Eyes on me.”
I found him and couldn’t look away.
