Page 101 of Carnival Mayhem

I hear Colt’s guttural cry of completion. Their bodies still for a moment, spent and sated. Then Colt pulls out slowly, his softening length slipping from Nash. Nash is still inside me, his dick still semi-hard. I’m surrounded by the scent of sex, of our combined pleasure, and my inner muscles clench instinctively, hungry for more.

Nash pulls out and draws me close, nuzzling against my neck. “Turn around, little bird.”

I shift to face him, and he kisses me softly.

“Love you,” I whisper, my lips against Nash’s. There was a time when those words would have terrified me, but now they roll off my tongue with ease, needing to be said.

“Love you too, little bird,” Nash replies, his breath warm against my hair. It still feels new when he says it, but right in a way I never expected.

“You two are sappy as hell.” Colt’s voice holds a hint of amusement. “Couldn’t you wait till after the afterglow to make googly eyes at each other?”

I watch Nash turn his head to look at Colt over his shoulder, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Feeling left out back there?”

The teasing lilt in Nash’s voice makes my heart flutter. I love seeing them like this–the casual banter.

Colt rolls his eyes, but I catch the way his gaze lingers on Nash’s mouth. “Shut up,” he mutters.

Before saying anything else, Nash reaches back and threads his fingers through Colt’s hair, pulling him forward. Their lips meet in a heated kiss that steals my breath. The sight of them together never fails to amaze me.

I trace my fingers along Nash’s chest as I watch them, feeling how his heart races beneath my touch. The kiss deepens, and I hear Colt’s soft groan as Nash’s tongue slides against his.

The intensity between Nash and Colt breaks as Colt’s hand reaches across Nash’s body, gripping my arm firmly. He pulls me up and over Nash in one swift motion, who shifts to accommodate my new position. I find myself on my knees, straddling Nash’s torso as Colt captures my lips with his.

His kiss differs from Nash’s—more demanding, rougher around the edges. Where Nash tends to be calculated and precise, Colt pours raw emotion into every movement. His hand cradles the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair as he deepens the kiss.

Nash’s hands steady my hips, keeping me balanced as I melt into Colt’s embrace.

I feel cherished between them, safe in a way I never thought possible. Colt breaks the kiss just long enough to look into my eyes, his gaze filled with an intensity that still takes my breath away. Below me, Nash’s thumb traces soothing circles on my hip, grounding me in the moment.

44

NASH

One month later…

Flora’s graceful form cuts through the glittering afternoon light as she executes a perfect aerial split. Her movements flow like water, each transition smoother than the last. Three months of living together deepened our connection, making our performances seamless.

Colt spots from below, his strong hands ready, though we all know Flora won’t fall. His shoulder has healed completely, and the way he moves now shows no trace of the old injury. My chest swells with pride, seeing them work together.

“Perfect form, little bird,” I call up to Flora as she transitions into a drop sequence. The silk wraps around her legs, and she descends in a controlled spiral that takes my breath away.

The routine we’re practicing isn’t particularly challenging anymore since we’ve performed it dozens of times. But there’s something magical about watching the two people I love most move in perfect synchronization.

Colt catches Flora as she dismounts, and I can’t help but smile at the tender kiss he places on her forehead. When they look at me, their eyes shine with love.

We don’t need words anymore. With a simple glance or a slight touch, we understand each other. What started as a complex dance of desire and protection has evolved into something pure and unshakeable.

“What are you thinking about?” Flora interrupts my thoughts, her eyes searching mine with her beautiful hazel gaze.

I shake my head, unable to meet her eyes now. Colt’s gaze is on me, curious, but he stays silent.

“You’ve been quiet lately. Distant, almost.” Flora sits beside me, her hand brushing mine where it rests on my thigh. “What’s on your mind, Nash?”

My heart hammers in my chest. I’ve imagined this conversation a hundred times, but now that it’s here, my tongue feels thick and clumsy.

“Something... I want,” I begin, searching for the right words. I think of the night she suggested we chase her, my mind spinning with the possibilities. How could I have known that it would lead me here? “It’s... a fantasy.”

Flora’s eyes widen, and she leans forward, suddenly intrigued. She knows how much our fantasies have driven this unconventional relationship of ours.

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