Page 60 of Fairground

What the hell is she so worried about?

I’ve got this. I've got us.

Her voice is breathless, almost shaky. “W-what just happened, Cash?”

I swipe the back of my hand across my mouth and grin, unrepentant. “I just had the most delicious meal of my life.”

And I know now that won't be the last time. Standing, I help pull her pants and panties back over her soaked pussy then straighten myself out, smoothing my shirt like I didn’t just fall a little in love with her. Then, I slide into the bench seat across from her, watching as she tries to catch her breath and spirals. I can see it happening, her retreating into herself, the confusion, the worry but I'm not letting her back away. Not again. As the Ferris wheel begins to near the ground, I give her a warning.

“Get ready to jump.”

Her eyes widen. “What? I don’t think my legs are working yet.”

I swing the gate open as we descend, scoop her up into my arms before she can protest, and leap out as the cart wobbles precariously. We hit the ground with a slight stumble, but I’ve got her secure. Yeah, it was a risky move—probably not my smartest considering I'm jumping with eight inches of steel in my pants hard as a rock, but it worked out.

She yelps, clutching at me, and when I set her down on her feet, she sways a little, still unsteady and I fucking love that I did that to her. The rain has picked up, soaking us both to the bone, but I barely notice. My hands find her cheeks, cradling her face as I push a damp strand of hair behind her ear and look into her eyes. She looks wrecked and radiant all at once, her eyes darting everywhere like she’s trying to process what’s happening.

My little storm cloud, spinning in from nowhere and leaving me just as off-kilter.

I lower my head, capturing her lips with mine, trying to quiet whatever fears are swirling in that beautiful head of hers. She doesn’t freeze this time. No hesitation. Her lips part, her hands tangle in my shirt as she kisses me back with the kind of intensity that tells me I’ve got the green light to push further.

When we finally break apart, her eyes are wild, feral, and she grabs my wrist firmly. Without a word, she drags me through the rain toward the haunted house, her determination pulling me along. As soon as we step inside, the air shifts. It’s dim and eerie, with the faint flicker of strobe lights illuminating a towering, masked figure in the corner.

But Rae’s not fazed. She’s a woman on a mission. Before I can say anything, she’s dropping to her knees in front of me, her fingers already working at the button of my soaked pants.

“Rae…” I start, my voice full of warning. “You don’t have to do this.”

She glances up at me, a wicked gleam in her eye. “We shouldn’t,” she says, throwing my earlier words right back at me.

I nod, swallowing hard. “We definitely shouldn’t.”

She smirks, her hands tugging at my jeans with no hesitation. “That doesn’t mean we won’t. Now, help me out.”

The fire in her voice, the challenge in her tone—it’s impossible to resist. I unbutton my pants, letting them fall to the floor in front of her along with my briefs, as she takes me in for the first time.

Chapter 25: Rae

I knew Cash would be big. I mean, I’d felt every ridge of him when I ground down on him through thick, denim fabric, the friction so intense I couldn’t think clearly. But seeing him now—fully, at eye level—is something else entirely.

My heart picks up, and for a second, I wonder what I’ve gotten myself into. Will it fit? I have no idea, but I’m willing to try.

The air inside the haunted house feels colder than outside, the chill from the mist and rain clinging to my damp clothes. My jeans stick to me like a second skin, the wet fabric pressing against my still-throbbing core. My body’s a mess of sensations, every nerve ending raw and exposed. And yet, here I am, determined to take this behemoth of a cock down my throat like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

I wrap my fingers around his shaft, marveling at the sheer girth of him as I give a few experimental pumps. His cock swells even more in my palm, hardening to an almost impossible size. The thick, flared head gleams in the low light, a bead of precum sliding down the tip that I watch drop to the ground next to my knee. I’ve given my fair share of head, and I’d like to think I’mgood at it, but I’ve never seen anything quite like this—like he’s been waiting for this moment, for me, his body eager in a way that’s utterly intoxicating.

My tongue darts out, flicking along the underside of his tip, teasing him with feather-light touches. The taste of him is salty, musky, addictive. He groans, low and guttural, his hands finding their way into my hair. His fingers tangle in the wet strands, tightening just enough to send a shiver down my spine as he guides me forward onto the head of him.

I part my lips, taking just the swollen crown into my mouth, sucking lightly as my tongue swirls around him. His groan deepens, vibrating through the small space, and I can’t help but feel a surge of power. This is my turn to make him come undone, to show him that he’s not the only one who’s feeling out of control here.

For the first time, it feels like the playing field is evening out. He’s had me at his mercy twice now, my body bending and breaking under his touch, his cool confidence never faltering. But now? Now he’s the one groaning and cursing, his control slipping with every flick of my tongue and suck of my mouth as I take him deeper.

I pull back, letting his tip slip free with a wet pop.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he curses.

I lick along the seam of him, tracing each groove with the tip of my tongue.

“That mouth. Fuck. Just like that, baby. Get it nice and wet for me.”

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