Page 81 of The Circus

She will learn that killing always wins, in the end.My little murderer. A grin paints my lips as she withdraws the knife with ease, turning her bashful gaze to mine.

Miss Goss’s death will come far more quickly than I’d hoped, but I’m also about to fucking come in my jeans from watching Eden be so merciless, so unapologetically and crazily murderous.

“I’m sorry,” she pouts again, dropping the knife and her gaze. But I’m on her in a flash, ripping her jeans from her waist until they keep her ankles bound. The lacy panties are next, ripped from her slender frame as though I am a bear tearing into its meal. In the next flash, I’m freeing my rock hard dick from my jeans, shoving Eden over onto Miss Goss’s limp body, and burying myself in her in one go.

She screams, her pussy clenching and fluttering around me already, but tight as can fucking be, even for how soaked she is. One hand gripping her throat, my other finds her hip bone, and I set a punishing pace, rocking both bodies—one as alive as she will ever be, the other dying in humiliation as she fucking deserves.

“You little brat,” I hiss, putting pressure on the sides of Eden’s slender throat, studying the side of her reddening face in sick satisfaction as I drive my cock into her so hard it hurtsme. I can’t imagine the pain I’m inflicting on her.

“Is this what you wanted?” I pant.

Unable to moan, she attempts to bob her head, but it’s useless, her body as pliant and malleable as a rag doll. The death rattle takes root in Miss Goss’s lungs, and a wave of ecstasy rolls over me, one so potent I almost come deep in Eden’s tight little pussy. I somehow catch myself at the last moment, slowing yet deepening my strokes to prolong that wave of pleasure I’m cresting.

“You like killing, don’t you?” I growl, my fingers leaving her hipbone to circle her slippery clit. She manages to release a guttural moan when my fingers ease their pressure. “You like me telling you what to do, and then you like taking my cock, huh? My beautiful little whore.”

I circle my fingers faster, and her pussy tightens and begins to milk my cock.

“Watch her die when you come, Eden. Look how fucking powerful you are,” I breathe.

“Fuck,” Eden cries, the two women’s bodies jostling with my harsh thrusts.

One is enjoying it. One is finally seeing how it feels to be the victim.

Her legs tense, and her back goes rigid, her cunt clenching my cock as hard as her hand was gripping the knife just moments ago.

“Oh my God, yes, yes, ahhh,” she wails to the dead.

With a jerk of my hips, I bury myself so deeply in her cunt that I’m kissing her womb, letting each flutter of her pussy bring me to climax as I spill my cum deep inside her.

The forest is hushed. Dusk hangs between the misty mountains. Our ragged breathing calms in moments of such tender peace that I will not forget them, even when I am dead.

Leaning forward until my body blankets Eden’s, my cock still hard and buried deep inside, I press a kiss to her still-bruised shoulder from our last romp in the cemetery.

“Sometimes dead is better,” she whispers, the words a broken yet forceful sound from her delicate throat. I know without her explanation that she isn’t speaking to me, but to the woman who now stares glassily at the darkening sky.

After a moment, Eden twists in my grasp until our eyes meet, her brows furrowed, and her lips set in a resolved line.

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you ever again,” she hisses with vehemency.

Her statement warms me, ignites me. She’s as protective of me as I am of her, and I am confident enough in my masculinity to let her be so.

She’s just proven she has the fucking guts.

“I fucking love you, Eden Clemm,” I say, eyes searching hers. The answer I know I will find is there, swirling calmly in the depths of her purple gaze.

She blushes, suddenly a demure, innocent teen again.

“I…I love you too, Teddy Poe.”

If only we’d stayed forever in our kingdom by the sea.

FORTY-SEVEN

TEDDY

The deep blueblanket of the sky, still dotted with white stars, begins to bleed into dawn. Each footfall is silent, my boots—thoroughly cleaned down by the docks this morning—barely kissing the pristine hardwood floors of Dick’s home.

I will never see this cage asmyhome.

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