Chapter 2: Chapter 2
The world had narrowed to the points of contact: Silas’s mouth, soft and insistent on hers; Niko’s hands, rough and possessive on her hips; the cold, hard wall at her back. Lilly floated in the sensation, a current of pure feeling carrying her away from thought.
Silas broke the kiss, his breath warm against her cheek. His blue eyes were dark, the pupils blown wide. “Tell me what you want,” he murmured, the words meant only for her.
Before she could answer, Niko’s voice growled from behind her, a vibration against her spine. “She wants you to touch her.”
A shiver, hot and sharp, raced through her. She nodded, her gaze locked with Silas’s. “Yes.”
His hand, which had been resting on her waist, slid downward. The fabric of her dress was a faint whisper, then nothing. His fingers were cool against her heated skin, a contrast that made her gasp. He watched her face, his movements slow, deliberate, as his fingers found her. The touch was exploratory at first, a gentle pressure, then deeper, finding a rhythm that made her knees buckle.
Niko held her up, his arms like iron bands around her middle. “That’s it,” he breathed into her ear, his own voice thick. “Let him.”
She was dissolving, the pleasure a bright, coiling heat in her belly. Her head lolled back against Niko’s shoulder, her eyes closing. She felt Silas watching her, studying every flicker of reaction on her face as his touch became more sure, more intimate. It was overwhelming. Being the sole focus of such intense, dual attention. She was the canvas and they were the artists.
Then Silas’s hand stilled. He withdrew his touch, leaving her aching and empty. Her eyes flew open.
He was looking at Niko over her shoulder. A silent, challenging communication passed between them. Silas’s fingers, glistening, moved to the button of Niko’s jeans.
Niko went utterly still. The possessive grip on her hips tightened almost to the point of pain. Lilly held her breath. This was the uncharted territory, the line they had only ever approached in tense, loaded jokes and late-night confessions.
“Niko,” Silas said, his voice low and steady. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. An offering.
Lilly felt the conflict raging in the man behind her—the pride, the jealousy, the raw, undeniable curiosity. She turned her head, her lips brushing his jaw. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “Let me see.”
That was the permission he needed. Or perhaps the command. His body relaxed by a fraction, a silent surrender.
Silas’s movements were methodical. He worked the button, the zipper, his knuckles brushing against the taut skin of Niko’s stomach. Niko’s breath hitched, a sharp, inward hiss. Lilly watched, mesmerized, as Silas’s hand slipped inside. Niko’s eyes slammed shut, his forehead dropping to rest between her shoulder blades. A low groan rumbled from his chest, a sound of pure, unadulterated sensation.
Lilly reached back, her hand finding Niko’s hair, tangling in the dark strands. “Look at me,” she murmured.
He forced his eyes open. They were black pools of fire, burning with a mix of vulnerability and fierce need. He was completely exposed, held between her comfort and Silas’s touch.
“Good?” Silas asked, his voice rough.
Niko just nodded, his jaw clenched. He was breathing in ragged gusts.
Then Silas was guiding him, positioning him. Niko’s hands found her hips again, his grip bruising. He pushed into her in one smooth, devastating stroke, filling the emptiness Silas had left. The feeling was so intense, so complete, it stole the air from her lungs. She cried out, a short, sharp sound that was swallowed by the studio’s dusty air.
He was buried deep inside her, his body a solid, trembling wall of heat at her back. And Silas’s hand was still on him, a persistent, intimate pressure.
“Now,” Silas commanded, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Now, Niko. Keep yourself there. For me.”
Niko shuddered, a full-body tremor that Lilly felt to her core. He was holding himself perfectly, painfully still, his entire being focused on the impossible task of not moving. The muscles in his arms and back were corded iron. Sweat beaded on his temples.
Lilly could feel the frantic beat of his heart against her back, the fine tremors of control wracking his frame. She was the anchor in his storm. She pressed back against him, a subtle reassurance.
Silas watched them, his expression unreadable. His gaze traveled from Niko’s strained face, down the length of his back, to where their bodies were joined. He leaned in, his lips close to Niko’s ear.
“You can move,” he said, the words a soft exhalation.
The effect was instantaneous. The dam broke. Niko’s control shattered into a thousand pieces. He drove into her, a raw, primal rhythm that had nothing to do with finesse and everything to do with need. It was a claiming, a release, a surrender. Lilly met him thrust for thrust, her own pleasure cresting, amplified by the sheer, visceral force of his.
Over his shoulder, she saw Silas watching, his hand now on his own jeans, his eyes dark with a satisfaction that was almost predatory. He had orchestrated this. He had unlocked a part of Niko she had only ever guessed was there.
The world blurred into a cacophony of sensation—the slap of skin, Niko’s guttural groans in her ear, the dizzying scent of their mingled sweat and the studio’s oil paint. The pleasure built, a terrifying wave, and then it crashed over her. She came with a broken cry, her body convulsing around him. Her climax triggered his. His name tore from her lips as he buried his face in her neck, his own release a raw, shuddering groan that seemed to be ripped from the deepest part of him.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing. Niko’s weight was heavy against her, his body slick with sweat. He was still inside her, still trembling with the aftershocks.
Slowly, he pulled out. The loss was physical. He rested his forehead against the wall beside her head, his eyes closed, his chest heaving.
Silas hadn’t moved. He stood a few feet away, watching them both come down. The intensity in his gaze had softened into something else. Something quieter. More dangerous.
Niko finally pushed himself upright. He turned, his movements slow, and looked at Silas. The air, which had been thick with passion, now crackled with a new, unspoken tension. The aftermath.
Without a word, Niko reached out. His hand, which had been gripping her hip moments before, closed around the back of Silas’s neck. It wasn’t an attack. It was a pull. He dragged Silas forward and crushed their mouths together in a kiss that was all teeth and desperation and something that looked terrifyingly like gratitude.
Lilly watched, her own body humming, the taste of both men on her tongue. She leaned back against the cool wall, the plaster rough against her heated skin, and knew with a chilling certainty that nothing would ever be simple again.