Chapter 20
NOVA
The trailer feels electric with tension, thick enough to cut with a knife.
Teddy sits there, restrained and naked, his impressive cock standing at full attention despite—or maybe because of—everything we’ve put him through.
The sight of him like this, vulnerable but clearly aroused, sends heat pooling low in my belly.
Silas must notice my reaction because he suddenly yanks me against his chest, his hands sliding over my hips. His breath is hot against my ear when he whispers, “You like looking at him, don't you, little fugitive?”
I can't deny it. Teddy Coleman is gorgeous in that clean-cut, all-American way that's the complete opposite of Silas's dark magnetism. Where Silas is all sharp edges and dangerous beauty, Teddy is warm golden skin and hazel eyes. The contrast is intoxicating.
“What if we gave him a real show?” Silas murmurs, his voice low and rough. “Let him watch while I fuck you senseless? Make him sit there with that hard cock and not be able to touch himself?”
The idea shoots through me like lightning, and I moan before I can stop myself.
“What are you doing?” Teddy's voice is strained, his eyes darting between us as Silas starts pulling at my shirt.
I meet his gaze directly, letting him see the heat in my eyes. “Just sit back and enjoy the show, Agent Coleman.”
“Fuck no,” he groans, his hips shifting. “That's torture.”
“That's the point,” Silas says, tossing my shirt aside.
His hands are everywhere, skimming over my ribs, cupping my breasts through my bra. I arch into his touch, hyperaware of Teddy's eyes on us, of the way his breathing has gone shallow and quick. When Silas unhooks my bra and lets it fall, Teddy makes a sound that's part growl, part whimper.
“Look at her,” Silas commands, his fingers pinching my nipples until I gasp. “Look how beautiful she is when she's desperate for it.”
I am desperate. My skin feels like it's on fire, every nerve ending crackling with need. Silas spins me around to face him, his blue eyes dark with lust as he captures my mouth in a bruising kiss.
Behind me, Teddy's breathing grows ragged. “Jesus Christ.”
Silas breaks the kiss, his lips curving in a wicked smile. “Strip me,” he orders, and I comply eagerly, my fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. I push it off his shoulders, revealing the lean muscle beneath, the tattoos that snake across his chest and arms.
When I reach for his belt, he catches my wrists. “Slowly. Let's not rush his torture.”
I take my time unfastening his belt, sliding it free from the loops with slow moves. Teddy's restraints creak as he shifts, and when I glance at him, his eyes are fixed on my hands with an intensity that makes my core clench.
The zipper of Silas's jeans sounds loud in the quiet holding cell. I push the denim down his hips, freeing his cock, already hard and leaking.
“Now you,” he says, his voice rough around the edges.
I shimmy out of my remaining clothes, feeling Teddy's gaze like a physical touch as I reveal myself. When I'm naked, Silas positions me on my hands and knees in front of Teddy, angled slightly so the agent has a perfect view.
“Watch,” Silas tells him, his hands sliding over my back, my ass. “Watch how wet she gets for me.”
His fingers find my entrance, and I’m embarrassingly slick already. He slides two fingers inside me easily, pumping slowly while his thumb circles my clit. I moan, pressing back against his hand.
“She's dripping,” Silas observes conversationally, as if he's not currently finger-fucking me into oblivion. “Can you see that, Agent Coleman? See how her pretty pussy is just begging to be filled?”
Teddy's response is a strangled sound that goes straight to my core. I look up at him through my lashes, seeing the way his jaw is clenched tight, his arms straining against the bindings behind his back.
“Please,” I breathe, not sure if I'm talking to Silas or Teddy or both of them.
Silas withdraws his fingers, and I whimper at the loss. But then I feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against me, and my world narrows to that single point of contact.
“Tell him how it feels,” Silas demands as he pushes inside me inch by torturous inch.
“So good,” I gasp, my back arching as he fills me completely. “He's so deep, Teddy. So fucking deep.”
Silas starts to move, slow and deliberate at first, letting Teddy see every thrust, every withdrawal. His hands grip my hips as he sets a rhythm that has me moaning with each stroke.
“Look at her face,” he tells Teddy. “See how she takes my cock? How desperate she is for it?”
The angle has him hitting that perfect spot inside me with every thrust, building the pleasure higher and higher until I'm trembling with it.
“Harder,” I beg, and Silas obliges, snapping his hips forward with enough force to make me cry out.
“That's it, baby,” he growls. “Let him hear you. Let him know how good I make you feel.”
The praise combined with the relentless rhythm of his thrusts pushes me closer to the edge. I can feel my orgasm building, coiling tight in my belly like a spring about to snap.
“She's close,” Silas pants, his grip on my hips tightening. “Can you tell, Agent Coleman? The way she's shaking?”
“Fuck,” Teddy breathes, and when I look at him, his face is flushed, his eyes wild with need.
“Come for me,” Silas commands, one hand sliding around to find my clit. “Come on my cock while he watches.”
The combination of his words, his fingers on my clit, and the relentless pace of his thrusts sends me over the edge. I come with a cry that echoes off the walls, my muscles clenching around him as waves of pleasure crash over me.
But even as I'm still shuddering through the aftershocks, I notice that Silas hasn't followed me over. He slows his movements, eventually stilling completely, though he’s still buried deep inside me.
I look back at him questioningly, and he gives me that wicked smile again.
“Sorry, baby,” he says, withdrawing from me slowly. “This load is reserved for Agent Coleman's throat.”
My core clenches at his words, a fresh wave of arousal washing through me. The idea of watching Teddy suck Silas's cock, of seeing that pretty mouth stretched around him, has me biting back a moan.
“He's going to suck my dick if he wants to be allowed any relief,” Silas continues, his eyes fixed on Teddy's face.
Teddy goes rigid, but his cock jerks visibly, a fresh bead of precum leaking from the tip. His body's betraying him, showing us exactly how much the idea affects him despite any protests he might want to make.
Silas moves to the restraints, producing a knife from somewhere to cut through the zip ties. Teddy's hands come free, and he flexes his fingers, working feeling back into them.
“On your knees,” Silas orders, his voice leaving no room for argument.
For a moment, I think Teddy might refuse. His jaw works like he’s fighting with himself, honor warring with desire. But then his gaze drops to Silas's cock, still slick with my arousal, and his expression shifts.
He slides off the seat and onto his knees in front of Silas, looking up at him with those expressive hazel eyes. The sight is so erotic it makes my breath catch.
“Come on, Agent Coleman,” Silas says, threading his fingers through Teddy's dark hair. “Let me see what that pretty boy mouth can do.”
I move to kneel beside them, my hand sliding over Teddy's shoulder. “I'll play with your cock while you do that,” I murmur against his ear, and he shudders.
Teddy's hands come up to grip Silas's thighs, and slowly, almost reverently, he leans forward to take the head of Silas's cock between his lips. The sound Silas makes is pure sin, his head falling back as Teddy's mouth works over him.
“Fuck, that's good,” Silas breathes. “Your mouth is perfect, Agent. Made for sucking cock.”
The praise makes Teddy moan around Silas's length, and I file that reaction away. Silas was right, our federal agent has a praise kink.
I wrap my hand around Teddy's cock, stroking slowly from base to tip. He's so hard it has to be painful, his skin fever-hot under my touch. When I swipe my thumb over the head, collecting the precum gathered there, he bucks into my grip.
“Look at him,” I whisper to Silas, my free hand trailing over Teddy's muscled back. “Look how eager he is. How much he wants this.”
Silas's eyes are dark with lust as he watches Teddy take him deeper, those full lips stretched wide around his girth. “That's it, good boy. Take more. Show Nova how good you can be.”
The endearment makes Teddy whimper, and he hollows his cheeks, sucking harder. The sight of them together—Silas's tattooed hands in Teddy's hair, Teddy's clean-cut features flushed with arousal as he services the other man—is almost too hot to bear.
I can see myself getting lost in this dynamic, in watching these two beautiful men together.
The contrast appeals to me on a visceral level—Teddy's golden boy goodness corrupted by Silas's dark magnetism.
And the way Teddy responds to praise, the way he seems to melt under Silas's approval, makes me wonder what other buttons we could push.
“You're doing so well,” I murmur to Teddy, my hand still working his cock in slow, torturous strokes. “Taking him so deep. Making him feel so good.”
Teddy's response is a broken sound around Silas's length, his hips jerking into my grip. He's close—I can tell from the way his breathing has gone erratic, the way his muscles are tensing under my free hand.
But I'm not ready for this to end yet. I slow my strokes, keeping him right on the edge without letting him fall over.
“Not yet,” I whisper, and he makes a sound of frustrated need that has both Silas and me groaning.
Silas's grip in Teddy's hair tightens, and his thrusts become more insistent. “I'm close,” he warns, his voice strained. “Gonna come down your throat, Agent Coleman. You want that?”
Teddy's answering moan is all the confirmation needed. Silas holds his head steady, thrusting deeper until Teddy gags slightly, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. But he doesn't pull away—if anything, he seems to press closer, taking Silas as deep as he can manage.
“Fuck yes,” Silas growls, and then he's coming with a broken curse, his body going rigid as he spills down Teddy's throat.
I watch Teddy swallow convulsively, his throat working to take everything Silas gives him. When Silas finally releases his grip and steps back, Teddy sits back on his heels, breathing hard, his lips swollen and red.
“Don't swallow all of it,” I say quickly, crawling toward him.
Understanding flickers in his eyes, and when I reach him, there's still some of Silas's release on his tongue. I capture his mouth in a deep kiss, tasting Silas's salt as we share the fluid between us. It's filthy and intimate and perfect.
When we break apart, we both swallow, and Teddy makes a sound like he's been punched.
“Now you,” I say, pushing him onto his back.
His cock is painfully hard, the head flushed dark red and leaking steadily. I take pity on him, wrapping my lips around the tip and sucking gently.
The effect is immediate and devastating.
Teddy arches off the floor with a broken cry, his hands flying to my hair as I work my mouth over him.
He's so close that it takes embarrassingly little time—just a few bobs of my head, my tongue swirling around the sensitive head, and he's coming with a shout that echoes off the trailer walls.
I catch his release on my tongue, savoring the taste of him before pulling away. Teddy's chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, his eyes glazed with satisfaction and disbelief.
But I'm not done with him yet.
I crawl back up his body, capturing his mouth in another kiss. This time, it's his own taste I share with him, our tongues tangling as we pass his release between us. The intimacy of it, the sheer wrongness that somehow feels so right, has him groaning into my mouth.
When we finally break apart, both swallowing, Teddy collapses back against the floor, completely undone. His hair is mussed, his skin flushed and sweat-dampened, and there's a dazed expression on his face that makes my heart race.
“Fuck,” he breathes, one arm flung over his eyes. “What the hell are you two doing to me?”
Silas chuckles, moving to sit beside us. “Breaking you down, Agent Coleman. Piece by piece.”
“It's working,” Teddy admits, his voice barely above a whisper.
I trace patterns on his chest with my fingertip, watching the way his muscles jump at my touch. “Good,” I murmur. “Because we're just getting started.”
The promise hangs in the air between us, heavy with possibility and threat in equal measure. Teddy doesn't protest, doesn't try to reassert his authority or demand his release. He just lies there, breathing hard, completely at our mercy.
And somehow, I think that's exactly where he wants to be.