17. Chapter 17
Wren
I crouch in the shadows of a collapsed doorway, catching my breath.
My body hums with electricity, every nerve ending alive and firing.
I can still feel the imprint of ObsidianWolf's fingers against my collarbone, the heat of his body as he pressed me against the wall. My skin tingles at the memory.
The game is going exactly as I planned, maybe even better. I've managed to stay one step ahead of them both, teasing and retreating, offering just enough to keep them hungry for more. But something's changed in the last few minutes. The energy has shifted.
I didn't recognize them at first. When I was perched above them, watching their initial interactions, I was too focused on their masks, their movements, the game ahead. But then ObsidianWolf spoke—that precise, measured cadence—and NeedleAndVice laughed, and suddenly everything clicked into place.
Jace and Theo.
The realization hit me like a physical blow. These aren't random subscribers. They're the men I see regularly. The ones who order coffee and make me smile. The ones I game with most nights. The ones I've been slowly developing feelings for.
For a moment, I nearly panicked. Nearly hit the button to end it all. But then something else took over—a wild, reckless confidence I've never felt before. Because they don't know. They have no idea who's behind this mask, who's teasing them, who's making them chase shadows.
The power of that knowledge is intoxicating.
I hear footsteps approaching—lighter than Jace's. Theo. I ready myself, calculating angles and escape routes. But instead of hiding further, I shift slightly, allowing the light to catch on one of my harness straps. A deliberate tell.
Come find me. I dare you.
The footsteps pause, then quicken. He's spotted me. I stay perfectly still, watching as he rounds the corner, oil ball already in hand. His mask catches the dim light, metallic accents gleaming.
"Well, well," he says, voice dropping to that velvet tone I recognize from his flirtations at the café. "Looks like someone's tired of running."
I tilt my head, neither confirming nor denying. Let him think what he wants.
He approaches slowly, predatory grace in every step. "I've been thinking about our little encounter earlier," he continues, tucking the oil ball back into his pouch. "How you left things... unfinished."
I remain motionless as he closes the distance between us, my pulse quickening with each step he takes. This is Theo. But he doesn't know that I know. The thought sends a thrill through me.
"I think," he says, now close enough that I can feel his breath against my mask, "it's time I returned the favor."
His hand shoots out, faster than I anticipated, capturing my wrist. He pulls me forward, off-balance, and uses the momentum to turn me and push me against the nearest wall. His body presses against mine, solid and warm.
"I believe I've earned another patch," he murmurs, his free hand already skimming over the harness straps. But instead of going for something safe like my shoulder or arm, his fingers trail down to a patch positioned just below my breast.
My breath catches as he detaches it slowly, his knuckles brushing against the sensitive underside of my breast as he pulls it away. The exposure makes my skin prickle with awareness.
"Much better," he says, pocketing the patch. But he doesn't step back. Instead, his hand returns to the newly exposed skin, tracing patterns that make my pulse race. "I wonder what other reactions I can get from you."
His fingers drift higher, brushing the edge of another patch—the one covering my nipple. He doesn't remove it, just teases around its edges, making me acutely aware of how easily it could come off. How exposed I would be.
"You like teasing, don't you?" he asks, leaning closer until his mask nearly touches mine. "Building anticipation. Creating hunger." His hand slides down to my hip, then lower, tracing the seam of my thigh where it meets my torso. "But what happens when someone teases you back?"
His fingers find the junction of my thighs, pressing against me through the remaining patch. The pressure is exquisite, making my knees weaken. I grab his shoulders for support, my fingers digging into the tactical material of his outfit.
"That's it," he encourages, voice rough with desire. "Let go. Let me see what's behind all that control."
His movements become more focused, more insistent.
He's found exactly the right rhythm, the perfect pressure.
Heat builds low in my belly, tension coiling tighter with each skilled circle of his fingers.
I'm closer than I should be, faster than I expected.
The anonymity of the masks, the forbidden nature of it all, the knowledge that it's Theo touching me like this—it's all combining into a perfect storm of arousal.
I'm going to come. Right here, against this wall, with his hand between my thighs and his voice in my ear. My breath comes in short, sharp pants behind my mask, my body trembling on the edge of release.
And then—nothing.
He steps back abruptly, leaving me cold and aching. I blink in confusion, my body still thrumming with unfulfilled need.
Theo holds up another patch—one I didn't even feel him remove from my thigh. He twirls it between his fingers, the set of his shoulders screams cocky satisfaction.
"Two for me," he says, voice smug. "Consider it payback for earlier."
I can't help it—I laugh. A soft, shoulder-shaking laugh that bubbles up from somewhere deep inside me. The audacity of it, the perfect turnabout—it's exactly what I would have done in his position.
He tilts his head, clearly surprised by my reaction. "You're not what I expected," he admits, tucking the second patch away. "You're... more."
I use his momentary distraction to slip past him, brushing my hand deliberately against his arousal as I go. A reminder that he's not the only one who can tease. I hear his sharp intake of breath, followed by a low chuckle.
"Oh, we're definitely not finished," he calls after me. "Not even close."
I disappear around the corner, heart racing with exhilaration. That was close—too close. I need a moment to regain my composure, to remember that this is still a game. Still under my control.
I find a small alcove partly hidden by fallen debris and tuck myself into it, taking deep breaths to steady my pulse. My body is still on edge from Theo's touch, still aching for completion. I press my thighs together, trying to ease the persistent throb between them.
Footsteps again—heavier this time. More measured. Jace. I stay perfectly still, not ready to be found again so quickly.
But he knows this environment as well as I do. He checks corners, sightlines, possible hiding spots with methodical precision. And then he's there, standing at the entrance to my alcove, his silhouette blocking what little light filters through.
"Found you," he says quietly, and something in his voice makes me pause. There's a new quality to it—a certainty, an awareness that wasn't there before. He knows.
I don't give him time to speak further. I push off from the wall and close the distance between us, my hands finding his chest, sliding up to his shoulders. I can feel his surprise in the sudden tension of his muscles, hear it in the sharp intake of his breath.
Before he can say whatever he was about to say—before he can shatter the fantasy with reality—I press my body against his. My fingers find the clasps of his mask where it covers his mouth, releasing them. The lower half swings open, revealing his lips, his jaw, the slight stubble on his chin.
Jace. It's definitely Jace. The same mouth I've watched form careful words at the café counter. The same jaw that tightens when he's thinking hard.
I push aside my own mask just enough to expose my mouth, the chains tickling my chin as they shift. Then I'm kissing him, swallowing whatever words he was about to say with my lips, my tongue, my silent demand.
He freezes for a heartbeat, clearly shocked by my boldness. Then something breaks loose in him. His arms wrap around me, pulling me tighter against him as he takes control of the kiss. It's not gentle. It's not careful. It's hungry and desperate and exactly what I need right now.
His hands find the harness straps across my back, using them to guide me backward until I hit a wall.
The impact forces a soft gasp from my lips, which he captures with his own.
One of his hands slides down to grip my thigh, hitching it up around his waist. The position presses his hard cock directly against my core, making me arch into him.
"I know it's you," he whispers against my mouth, his voice rough with desire. "I know exactly who you are."
The words should terrify me. Should make me pull away, end the game, run from the truth. But they don't. Instead, they fuel something wild and reckless inside me. Because he knows, and he still wants me. Still kisses me like I'm air and he's drowning.
"Who am I, then?" I mouth against his lips, knowing he can feel the words even if he can't hear them.
Whether he understands my words or not, his hand comes up to cradle my face, thumb brushing across my cheekbone just below the edge of my mask. "You're everything," he says simply. "All of you. Every version."
The sincerity in his voice undoes something in me—some final defense I didn't even know I was maintaining. I kiss him again, deeper this time, trying to pour everything I can't say into the contact.
He responds in kind, his body pressing mine harder against the wall, his arousal pressed harder against me.
His hand slides from my face down my neck, tracing the harness straps until he reaches another patch—this one positioned over my heart.
He detaches it slowly, his eyes never leaving mine as he reveals another piece of me.
"Beautiful," he murmurs, bending to press his lips to the newly exposed skin. The contact makes me shiver, my head falling back against the wall.
"I knew I'd find you eventually," another voice says from somewhere to our left. "I just didn't expect company when I did."
Theo. He's found us, standing at the entrance to the narrow passage, his posture radiating something between amusement and arousal.
Jace tenses against me, but doesn't pull away. Instead, he turns slightly, keeping one arm firmly around my waist. "NeedleAndVice," he acknowledges, voice carefully neutral.
"ObsidianWolf," Theo replies, taking a step closer. "Quite the cozy scene I've interrupted."
"Not interrupted," Jace corrects. "Joined."
The words hang in the air between us, charged with possibility. I can't deny the thrill that courses through me at the thought of both of them, here, now.
I look from one to the other, heart pounding so hard I feel it in my throat. I want to move. To speak. To do something. But I’m frozen—trapped in this moment between them, between what we were and what we’re about to become.
Theo takes another step into the alcove. “I say we stop pretending this is just a game,” he says, voice low and dark. “Don’t you?”
Jace doesn't release me. And I don’t run.
I breathe them in—their heat, their tension, the sharp edge of something that feels like surrender and chaos all at once.
I might’ve designed this fantasy.
But I never expected getting caught would feel this good.