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Chapter 9: The Bunker

Author: Phayvord
last update Last Updated: 2026-02-21 19:32:01

Bella’s POV

The warehouse on Flushing looks abandoned from the outside—rusted chain-link fence, broken windows, graffiti tags bleeding down brick walls like old wounds. Nico kills the engine in the shadowed loading bay. The silence that follows is louder than the rain drumming on the roof.

Victor gets out first. Scans the perimeter with the cold efficiency of a man who’s done this too many times. He signals once—clear.

Nico opens my door. Offers his hand. I take it. His fingers are still faintly bloody from the fight; mine shake when they lace with his.

We move fast—through a side door, down a narrow concrete stairwell lit only by motion-sensor LEDs that flicker on like wary eyes. Three flights down. The air grows cooler, damper, smelling of old metal and damp earth.

At the bottom: a heavy steel door, keypad glowing red.

Victor punches in a code.

Nico adds a second sequence.

The lock hisses. The door swings inward on silent hydraulics.

Inside is nothing like the safe house.

Reinforced concrete walls. Low amber lighting from recessed strips. A single large open room—king bed against one wall, leather sectional facing a bank of monitors showing live feeds of the warehouse above and surrounding streets. Small kitchenette. Bathroom with industrial shower. Weapons rack. A heavy steel table that could double as an operating surface.

No windows.

No natural light.

No way out except the door we just came through.

Victor seals it behind us. Three bolts. Electronic lock. A soft beep confirms we’re locked in.

Nico exhales—long, ragged. Leans his forehead against the cold steel for a second.

Then he turns.

Looks at me.

Then at Victor.

No words.

He crosses the room in four strides. Grabs my face with both hands. Kisses me like he’s drowning and I’m air.

Hard. Desperate. Teeth clashing. Tongue claiming every corner of my mouth like he needs to erase Victor’s taste from the last hour.

I moan into him. Fingers curling into his torn shirt.

Victor steps up behind me. His chest presses to my back. Hands slide under the hoodie—palms hot on my bare stomach. He yanks the fabric up and over my head in one rough motion.

I’m naked again—sweatpants shoved down my thighs by Nico’s impatient hands. They pool at my ankles.

Victor’s mouth finds the side of my neck. Bites down—hard enough to bruise. Soothes with tongue. His erection presses against my ass through his tactical pants.

Nico drops to his knees in front of me.

No preamble.

No teasing.

He hooks one of my legs over his shoulder. Opens me. Buries his face between my thighs.

His tongue lashes my clit—fast, rough, punishing. Like he’s angry at my body for wanting Victor too.

I cry out. Hands fisting in his hair.

Victor’s fingers find my nipples. Pinches. Twists. Rolls.

The dual assault makes my knees buckle.

Nico catches me. Doesn’t stop licking. Sucks hard. Two fingers plunge inside—curling, stroking that spot that makes stars burst behind my eyes.

Victor’s hand slides down. Joins Nico’s between my legs. Middle finger circling my clit while Nico’s pump inside.

They work me together—perfect, ruthless rhythm.

I come fast—shattering, screaming, thighs shaking around Nico’s head.

He doesn’t let up. Keeps licking through it. Drawing it out until I’m sobbing.

Victor lifts me—effortless. Carries me to the bed. Drops me onto black sheets.

They strip in seconds—clothes hitting the floor like shed skin.

Nico climbs over me first. Spreads my thighs wide. Notches himself at my entrance.

“Look at me,” he growls.

I do.

His eyes are feral. Possessive. Heartbroken.

He thrusts in—one brutal stroke. Bottoms out. Groans like it hurts.

I arch. Nails raking down his back.

Victor kneels beside us. Guides my head toward him. I open. Take him deep. Suck while Nico fucks me—hard, punishing strokes that slap skin on skin.

The wet sounds fill the bunker. Obscene. Echoing.

Nico’s hand wraps around my throat—not squeezing. Just holding. Owning.

Victor’s fingers tangle in my hair. Guides my rhythm on his cock.

They trade.

Victor pulls out of my mouth. Moves behind me. Lifts my hips. Slides in from behind—deeper angle. Hits spots Nico didn’t reach.

Nico kneels in front. Feeds me his cock again. Tastes of me.

I’m lost between them.

Full.

Used.

Worshipped.

Victor reaches around. Fingers on my clit—fast circles.

Nico’s hand cups my breast. Pinches the nipple.

I come again—harder this time. Clenching around Victor. Milking him.

He curses. Thrusts once more. Fills me.

Pulls out slowly. Cum leaks down my thighs.

Nico flips me onto my back. Spreads me wide.

Enters me in one stroke. Groans at the slick heat of Victor’s release coating him.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “You’re so full of him.”

He fucks me through it—slow now. Deep. Grinding against my clit with every roll of his hips.

Victor lies beside me. Kisses me slow. Deep. Tongue stroking mine while Nico claims my body.

I come a third time—quiet this time. Shuddering. Tears slipping free.

Nico follows—growling my name. Adding to the mess inside me.

He collapses on top of me—careful not to crush. Face buried in my neck.

Victor’s hand strokes my hair.

We lie there—tangled, sweaty, breathing hard.

For the first time since the gala, the silence isn’t tense.

It’s… peaceful.

Almost.

Then Victor speaks—quiet, against my temple.

“We can’t stay here forever.”

Nico lifts his head. Looks at him over my shoulder.

“No,” Nico agrees. “But we can stay long enough to plan.”

Victor’s fingers trace the curve of my hip.

“And long enough to make sure she knows she’s ours. Both of ours. No more choosing.”

Nico’s hand covers Victor’s on my skin.

“No more choosing,” he echoes.

I close my eyes.

Feel them both—warm, solid, dangerous.

And for the first time, I don’t feel torn.

I feel surrounded.

Protected.

Claimed.

But deep down, I know the truth.

The bunker is safe for now.

But the world outside isn’t.

Victor’s empire is bleeding.

Nico’s family wants him dead.

And whoever sent those cleaners tonight will send more.

We have hours.

Maybe days.

Then the war comes for us again.

And when it does…

We’ll face it together.

Or we’ll die trying.

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