I should be mortified… But I don’t think I’ve ever been wetter without stimulation.
Elias uses the tip of his cane to lift up my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his.
“Are you ready to perform, Jules?” he asks, his voice deep and echoing.
I swallow, my mind working a thousand miles an hour. If I do this, there’s no taking it back. I’ll walk around this carnival knowing that everyone who works here has seen me getting fucked, begging for their ringmaster. Every single one of them will know exactly what I sound like when I come.
But I know what my body is asking for. It wants whatever depravity Elias is willing to feed me. I know it’ll be good.
“I’m ready,” I answer, my tone a bit high-pitched, but clear.
Elias’s grin is pure wicked satisfaction. The cane leaves my chin, and he drops down to his knees, his hands on my thighs. The swing is at the perfect height for him to have a direct view of my hungry pussy.
“This is too tempting to ignore,” he says reverently beforetaking off the black mask and burying his face between my legs. The crowd cheers as I throw my head back, a loud moan escaping my lips.
Elias’s mouth is devastating. He uses the perfect amount of pressure, his tongue swiping over my clit with the right speed, his lips sucking and pulling, making me see stars.
“She’s delicious,” he tells the crowd when he pulls back. His fingers part my nether lips, and the cool air hits my overheated flesh. “Look at this pretty clit. She has such a needy little pussy, our Jewel.”
I whimper when someone chuckles—it sounds like Cole.
“Fuck it with your fingers! Get them all in there!” someone else shouts from the stands.
Elias’s laugh sends goosebumps skittering down my back.
“Great idea,” he replies, then wastes no time inserting two digits into my hole.
I squeal when he hits that sensitive spot inside me, his precision unerring. “Oh god, Elias.”
“No,” he drawls, pulling out just enough to slide in a third finger. “That’s not who I am right now.”
It only takes me a second to realize what he wants. “Master,” I breathe, squirming on the swing. “Please.”
“Please, what?” he asks mildly. “You want more of my fingers, filthy girl?”
“Yes!” I hiss wantonly. “More, Master.”
“See how good she is for me?” Elias asks the audience, getting cheers and whistles in reply. “Four now.”
His fingers stretch my tight channel, finding nerve endings no one’s ever stimulated before.
“Do you want more, Little Sapphire?” he asks me. His eyes lift from my sopping tunnel to meet mine. “Do you want my hand?”
My breath catches in my throat. His hand? I’d never been stretched like that before… But I want it. God, do I want it.
I nod, too excited to speak. Elias’s grin makes me clench around his invasion. It’s sharp, satisfied, possessive—like a demon intent on corrupting me.
“Well. We’d better make your little cunt come for us first, then,” he remarks far too casually for the situation. Like he’s not about to destroy my pussy.
His mouth returns to my clit while he fucks me with four of his fingers, each stroke hitting my G-spot with maddening force.
“Fuck, my pants are too tight,” someone says in the stands. “Hope we’re allowed to jerk off.”
“Hah! The cleaners are going to have fun with this mess,” another remarks.
“Hey, the cleaners are here, and we say fuck blue balls!” a third yells, setting off a chorus of laughter.
“Hear that, Little Sapphire?” Elias murmurs, taking his mouth off my pussy just long enough to speak. “They can’t help themselves.”
