Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 20554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 103(@200wpm)___ 82(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 103(@200wpm)___ 82(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
"I love feeling you hot, thick, and heavy in my hand," I whisper, my voice dripping with desire as I grip him, running my fingers up and down his length. His growls deepen, a raw sound that sends shivers down my spine, as his hand tangles in my hair, pulling me into a rough, passionate kiss.
His teeth graze my lip as I stroke him, and he groans, "I'm about to lose my mind with you, sunshine."
Before I can process what's happening, he's hauling me into his lap, my back pressed against the wall of the caravan. With a swift motion, he pushes against my soaked core again, teasing, taunting without entering me.
A guttural groan escapes me when he finally thrusts inside, stretching me to the brink, my body melting under his doting touch. His hands roam my body, greedy and possessive, before he ducks his head, his lips latching onto my nipples, sucking hard and fast, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me. My hips grind against him, and he hits deeper, his beautiful heavy cock igniting fireworks within me, each thrust sending me spiraling further into bliss.
His release is fast and fierce, his body shuddering beneath me as he loses himself in the ecstasy of the moment. I gasp for air as my own orgasm crashes over me in quick, intense bursts, his hips driving me into oblivion. He comes in rapid, powerful waves, pulling me close, his lips trailing down my neck as he murmurs, "I love you so much."
I've always lived my life to my own beat, but with him, everything fits perfectly—like he was heaven-sent. I swallow, and then whisper, “I love you too.”
Marcus’s face lights in a happy grin as he lifts me off of him, both of us a sticky, satisfied mess. “Good.” He chuckles. “I didn’t want to have to keep you against your will, but I would have, if it came down to it.”
I laugh, pressing my forehead to his. Our mingled release drips down my thighs, leaving a wet spot on his bed. He scoops it up with his fingers, rubbing the mixture between my breasts before tweaking my nipples one last time.
He tips his head, his grin turning adorably lopsided. "You look freshly fucked, sunshine, but so damn cute."
I laugh out loud, the sound bubbling up from deep within. "Thanks, I think?"
He pulls me close again, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead. "Looks like happiness makes you horny, baby. That means I'll be getting laid a few times a day because I plan on keeping you completely blissful."
For a long moment, we lie there in silence, the only sound our ragged breathing. The world outside the tent seems distant, a mere backdrop to the profound connection we’ve just forged.
“Clara,” Marcus whispers, his voice filled with wonder. “You’re so incredible.”
I smile, feeling a warmth spread through me. “You are.”
He holds me close, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my skin. “I meant what I said, Clara. I’ll protect you, no matter what.”
“I know,” I reply, my heart swelling with a mix of love and determination. “And I’ll be right by your side, no matter what we face.”
The future is uncertain, filled with unknown dangers and challenges. But with Marcus by my side, I feel ready to face whatever comes our way. Our fates are intertwined, our journey just beginning. And as we lie together, our bodies still humming with the aftershocks of our passion, I know that we’re stronger together than we could ever be apart.
The night deepens, the flickering light casting a warm glow over us. In this moment, everything feels right. Our partnership, our love, our future—it all feels possible, as long as we’re together. And as I drift off to sleep in Marcus’s arms, I know that whatever comes next, we’ll face it as one.
Chapter Six
Clara
The circus grounds hum with the vibrant energy of preparation. Performers flit between tents, each absorbed in their routines, the air thick with the scent of sawdust and anticipation. I weave through the crowd, feeling the curious and sometimes wary glances from my fellow performers. Their emotions swirl around me—excitement, jealousy, concern. I try to focus, pushing the distractions to the back of my mind.
Dante, the ringmaster, calls my name, cutting through the chaos. I turn to see him standing at the entrance of a practice tent, his expression serious. My stomach tightens. This isn't a casual summons.
Inside the tent, the atmosphere shifts. The noise of the circus fades to a muffled backdrop, replaced by a calm, almost solemn stillness. Dante gestures for me to sit, his eyes never leaving mine. His tent is filled with mementos of the long history of the Misfit Cabaret—old posters, faded photographs, and a collection of trinkets that seem to hold secrets of their own.
"Clara," he begins, his voice carrying the weight of unspoken concerns. "I've noticed the growing connection between you and Marcus."