Page 27 of House of Clowns

"Stop," I managed, my voice shaking. "Please."

A smile played at the edge of his mouth, a dangerous one—like he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Afraid to fall for a clown?" he whispered, his breath hot against my ear.

I hated that he did this—pulled me in close and left me on edge, teetering between fear and thrill. There was a strange excitement bubbling in me, one I should deny but couldn't. And he knew it; he read it in me as surely as I felt it.

"No," I was able to whisper. "I'm afraid I will regret it."

He laughed, the low, dark sound echoing through the woods.

"Regret?Bambolina, I'll make you forget what that even means."

I tensed beneath him, trying to catch a smile as my knee shot up and caught him hard. His face contorted in pain. He doubled over with a groan as he stumbled back. I had just time to push myself up and sprint deeper into the woods before he recovered. Laughter bubbled out of me. I heard a frustrated shout behind me, but I didn't risk looking back. The dark forest surrounded me, shadowed and twisting; the earth beneath was rough and unfamiliar. Branches scraped against my skin, and every sound was synchronized; the crunch of leaves beneath my feet, the pounding of my heart. A moment, and I was certain I'd lost him, finally alone in that darkness. Then, I was colliding with something solid, gasping as I looked up, finding myself pressed against Rio's chest.

"Von fan culo!" I yelled, and his hands in an instant wrapped around me and hauled me back against the wide, rough tree. Thebark scratched against my skin, a jolt of sensation that sent my pulse racing.

"You can run all you want," he whispered, the timbre of his voice low, each word tinged with the dark, wry humor. "But you know I'll always find you."

His fingers trailed upward to find the little bow at the top of my corset. With one strong pull, he yanked it loose, and I drew in a hissing breath as the pressure on my ribs released.

I gasped as he slid the corset away, leaving me in that red dress that clung desperately to me while slipping lower with each second. He traced his palm over my hip and down to my thigh, lifting my leg around his waist and anchoring me against him.

"Is this what both of us need right now?" he asked, his face close enough that his breath mingled with mine, his eyes dark with seriousness.

I nodded, my lips biting, as what wasn't said was thick between us. His fingers brushed along my jaw, angling me to him, and the urge to close the distance overwhelmed me.

And then my lips were pressed to his, imploding into the hunger and the intensity between us. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he snatched my wrists, pinning them above my head to the tree. He always pulls back, with some lingering restraint whenever my hands brush his skin, but the tension only feeds my desire to touch him.

Our tongues met in an entwining push-pull of tangles, each of us claiming, his minty breath intoxicating me, flooding me with a desperate need for more. My skin tingled under his touch as his hands wandered down to hike my skirt in one smooth, unbroken motion. He was to fling it aside, leaving me standing in only my red lace bra on, and the coolness of the forest pricking at my bare skin.

His eyes poured over me; his lips arced into a wicked smile, his need and hunger stronger, and I let go of my depth, givingmyself over to whatever this was, succumbing to the wildness of it all. Every inch of him was deadly and thrilling as he inclined his face closer to mine.

He looked at me, brow up, his eyes level. "Sure?"

I nodded, scarce above a whisper. "Yeah."

He spun me around gently, my chest pressing against the rough bark of the tree, grounding me. His fingers worked deftly at my bra clasp, and it slipped down to the ground. I clung onto the tree, feeling its surface beneath my skin as he slid his hands along my waist and caused what was left to shiver down.

“Spread your legs,” he murmured, his voice low. I felt a shiver as I obeyed, aware of every movement. His hands traced a line down my spine.

A soft moan escaped my lips, a breathless invitation for him to explore further.

His teeth grazed my clit, sending jolts of electricity through me as his tongue delved deeper. I pressed my palms against the bark, anchoring myself as waves of pleasure crashed over me, leaving me gasping for air. He moved slowly, teasingly, before flicking his tongue, drawing it back with an agonizing slowness. Then, he began to swirl, each motion igniting a delicious tremor within me.

He paused, leaning back for a moment. The sound of his pants slipping down, accompanied by the soft clink of his belt against the ground, echoed in the quiet night.

With a firm grip, he lifted my leg, holding it aloft as he thrust into me. I gasped.

He stretched me, filling me, then began a steady rhythm, in and out, inch by inch, each movement meeting with the sharp slap of skin against skin.

Fuck, the clown is fucking me.

Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through me, addictive as opium, igniting a desperate craving for more. But suddenly, he stopped.

He turned me around, his hand gripping my neck, pulling me toward him. His lips captured mine, a fierce kiss that woke a fire within me. He lifted me effortlessly, wrapping his arms around me before we sank to our knees on the soft earth.

"I can't hold on any longer," he growled, reaching for something at his side.

---