Page 67 of Illusionist
Silas isn't far behind. A few more brutal thrusts and he's coming with a roar, buried deep inside Teddy as his own release takes him. I can see the moment it hits him, the way his face contorts with pleasure, the way his grip on Teddy's hips tightens.
We collapse together in a tangle of limbs, all of us breathing hard, hearts hammering. Teddy is sandwiched between us, still trembling from the intensity of what just happened.
“Holy shit,” he finally manages, his voice wrecked.
I reach back to stroke his hair, damp with sweat. “You did so good, Teddy. So fucking good for us.”
Silas presses a kiss to the back of Teddy's neck. “Think you're ready to admit you belong to us now?”
Teddy's laugh is shaky. “Yeah. I think you've pretty thoroughly corrupted me.”
I grin, already thinking about all the ways we can corrupt him further. “This is just the beginning.”
As we lie there in the moonlight, catching our breath, I can't help but feel like everything has shifted. Whatever Teddy was when he walked into our carnival, he isn't that person anymore.
And neither am I.
24
TEDDY
Iwake up pressed between two warm bodies, and for a moment, I forget where I am. Forget who I am. There's only heat and the scent of skin and sex, the weight of an arm across my chest, soft hair tickling my shoulder.
Then it all comes rushing back.
The forest. Silas inside me. Me inside Nova. The way I fell apart completely, begging for more, for them, for everything they were willing to give.
My body aches in places I've never been sore before, and the memory of how those aches were earned sends heat straight to my cock. Which is already embarrassingly hard again, trapped between my stomach and Nova's hip.
“Morning, sunshine.” Silas's voice is rough with sleep, amused. His arm tightens around my waist, pulling me closer against his chest.
“Someone's awake,” Nova observes, shifting against me. The movement makes me hiss as my cock drags against her warm skin.
I should be mortified. Should be scrambling for clothes, for distance, for some way to salvage what's left of my professionaldignity. Instead, I find myself pressing closer, chasing the warmth of their bodies.
“This is your trailer,” I realize, taking in the space around us. It's larger than the holding cell, more personal.
“Very observant, Agent Coleman,” Silas says, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at me. His blue eyes are still dark with satisfaction from last night. “You were pretty out of it when we brought you back.”
“We carried you,” Nova adds with a grin that's pure feminine satisfaction. “You were like a drunk college kid after his first party. All boneless and mumbling about how good we made you feel.”
Heat floods my face. “I did not.”
“You did,” Silas confirms, his hand sliding down to rest just above my hip. “Also said you'd never felt anything like that before.”
The embarrassment is real, but it's overshadowed by contentment. By belonging.
“I need to understand something,” I say, struggling to form coherent thoughts with Nova's leg draped over mine and Silas's hand drawing patterns on my skin. “Everything I believed about myself, about who I am… you've turned it upside down so fast.”
“Have we?” Nova tilts her head, genuinely curious. “Or did we just help you stop lying to yourself?”
The question hits harder than it should. I think about my relationships with women—pleasant, comfortable, ultimately forgettable. The spark was always missing, no matter how hard I looked for it.
“I've been straight my entire life,” I say weakly.
“Labels are just boxes,” Silas murmurs against my neck. “And you look much better outside the box.”
His mouth finds the sensitive spot below my ear, and I can't stop the sound that escapes. Nova watches with obvious interest, her green eyes tracking every expression that crosses my face.
