Page 50 of Illusionist
Silas's smirk makes my heart flutter. “He looked so conflicted, baby, did you notice that? The man's clearly curious about things he's never explored. Why not help him discover a few new interests?”
My mouth goes dry at the implication. Images flash through my mind unbidden—Teddy stripped and bound, Silas's hands on his skin, the sound he might make when he stops fighting and gives in.
“Both of us?” The question slips out before I can think better of it.
“If you're interested.” Silas's voice drops to that rough register that goes straight to my core. “Could be fun, breaking in a federal agent. Teaching him that the world isn't as black and white as he thinks.”
“Jesus Christ,” Elias mutters, running a hand through his dark hair. “I can literally see you two getting turned on by this idea.”
He's not wrong. The image of Teddy caught between us makes me wetter than I’ve ever been, all that careful control cracking under the weight of his own desires. The way he'd look on his knees, the sounds he'd make...
“So we're agreed?” I clear my throat, trying to sound more composed than I feel. “We... play with him?”
“Play implies games,” Jules points out with a wicked grin. “This sounds more like psychological warfare with a side of sexual awakening.”
“The best kind,” Silas agrees, and the promise in his voice makes me shiver.
Elias looks around the table, taking in our collective enthusiasm for this thoroughly insane plan. “Fine. You two can have your fun with Agent Coleman. But when you're done playing house with your pet federal agent, we kill him and dispose of the body. This isn't a fucking dating service.”
The casual mention of murder should horrify me. Should send me running for the door and the relative safety of my trailer. Instead, it just makes everything feel more real, more dangerous. Morealive.
“Understood,” Silas says, though his tone suggests he's already planning to ignore that particular order.
The meeting breaks up with the brothers filtering out into the night air. Jules lingers long enough to squeeze my shoulder, her dark eyes bright with mischief.
“Have fun, you two. You know, a couple of months ago, Elias chased me through the carnival, and I wasn't sure if he was going to kiss me or kill me. Ah, fond memories.”
Then she's gone too, following after her man. I need to spend more time with the blue-haired girl—clearly she's a lot of fun.
Silas and I head to the trailer where the federal agent waits. The metal structure looks innocuous enough from the outside—just another carnival storage unit. But I know what's inside. Who's inside.
“Second thoughts?” Silas asks, stepping close enough that I can smell his cologne, feel the heat radiating from his skin.
“About doing deviant things to a federal agent? Probably should be having those.” I turn to face him fully, noting the way his pupils dilate in the low light. “But no. No second thoughts.”
“Good.” His hand finds my waist, fingers spanning the space between my hip bones. “Because I've been thinking about this since the moment I found out he’d been watching us earlier.”
“What exactly have you been thinking?”
His grin is wicked, full of dark promises that make my pulse race. “How he'd look with your lipstick smeared across his throat. How he'd sound begging for permission to touch you. How his control would crack when we make him choose between his duty and his desire.”
The images he paints send liquid heat straight between my thighs. “And you? What would you do to him?”
“Everything.” The word comes out rough, hungry. “I'd take him apart piece by piece until there's nothing left but need. Until he's so desperate for us that he'd sell his badge for one more touch.”
I press closer, feeling the effect our fantasies have on him against my belly. “And what if we break him completely?”
“Then we'll put him back together again.” His thumb traces along my jaw, sending sparks through my nervous system. “The way we want him.”
The casual arrogance in his voice should be off-putting. Should remind me that Silas Crowley is the kind of man who takes what he wants without apology. Instead, it makes me want to kiss him until neither of us can think straight.
“How do we start?”
“Simple.” He steps back, gesturing toward the trailer door. “We present a united front. Make it clear that this is our game, our rules. Be casual, be cruel. Toy with his wants and needs until he's so turned around he doesn't know up from down.”
As we plan, I can feel myself getting wetter by the moment. After being subdued and beaten down for years, the thought of having that much power over someone, of watching Teddy unravel under our combined attention... Christ. What's wrong with me that the idea of sexually torturing a federal agent makes me this aroused?
“You're squirming,” Silas observes, his eyes dark with satisfaction.
