Page 102 of Circus From Hell

“Suits you.”

I smirk and retreat to the bathroom, washing away the proof of his pain to replace it with brown dressings. When I return, he’s half asleep with some mindless rubbish playing on the television, and I sit down and slip his head atop my lap. I play with his hair as he smiles and falls asleep, and I’ve never felt more comforted.

I don’t fight the fact I wish Karma and Soren were here too. I’ve come to terms with it, and that’s refreshing, not fighting everything I feel.

I guess Arlo and I are both healing today.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

KARMA

Moxie has taken over the circus. She was bossing everyone around before the show, and I steered clear until it was my time, knowing exactly when to go on without needing her to tell me. I’ve seen her face from my hiding spot in the shadows; she has an eyepatch on now to hide what I did to her.

Soren and I stuck to the tent for the majority of the day. Despite my constant attempts, he never made me come again. He kept saying that men don’t always work like women do, whatever that means. I think he secretly wanted to watch me squirm and pester and eventually beg. He had this smirk on his face like he knew exactly what he was doing, enjoying the torture he was putting me through, and I fully intend to make him pay for that.

My whole body feels like it’s on the verge of exploding when I descend from my silk and leave the stage, ignoring the crowd cheering as I dart through the back of the tent in search of that tentacle and the tall muscle attached to it.

I ate enough last night that hunger isn’t consuming me, but arousal is, and Soren doesn’t stand a fucking chance when I see him.

When I pull back the entrance to my tent, I don’t find Soren lying on my bed.

I find Arlo and Micha, hands roaming each other’s bodies, mouths moving in tandem as they kiss passionately, their shirts off to reveal their naked upper halves. Arlo smiles happily when he sees me, and Micha’s smirk is nothing short of devious.

“Soren’s gone to find some food whilst the show is on, and he told us you’d been a pathetic little beg all day,” Micha announces.

Oh, so Soren thinks he can get out of this the easy way?

I step forward, and Micha arches his eyebrow, warning me. I stop, understanding his silent command despite the urge to jump their bones.

“Good listening, Stitches. Now strip off your clothes, get on your knees, and crawl to my little brother.”

I grab the back of the zipper and drag it down, letting my jumpsuit fall down my body until I toe it aside and sink to my knees.

Micha’s hand is tight in Arlo’s hair. He reaches around to grab his bulge, and Arlo’s little whimper that travels across the tent to reach my ears urges me forward.

“Look at her, Pipsqueak,” Micha demands, but Arlo never took his eyes off me. I haven’t seen him since I chased him through the city, but the urge to check on him is overridden by the urge to follow Micha’s demands in the chance that I’ll get a reward.

I move, my hips swaying with every hand and knee forward, my naked body crawling across the rough ground.

“Can you be my little brat tonight, Karma? Let Arlo show you the ropes, and I’ll milk your pussy like I know you’re desperate for.”

I don’t know how Micha has this control over me. If I wanted to fight back, I could. If I wanted to take them and their cum without asking, I would. But I want what he’s demanding.

Just for now.

“Yesss,” I whisper, stopping in front of Arlo and sitting back on my ankles. They both look down at me—Arlo with sweet, affectionate eyes, and Micha with calculating, piercing eyes.

Using his grip on Arlo’s curls, Micha forces him to his knees. Arlo hisses out in pain and moans when he’s face to face with me. His big brother crouches beside us. He grabs the back of my head, holding me like he does Arlo, and watches us. Arlo and I never look away from each other.

“Kiss him, Karma. Slip that tongue into his mouth.”

I’m eager to taste Arlo. I happily go when Micha shoves us together harshly. Our lips move in an uncoordinated clash, and my tongue eagerly wraps around his, our piercings clashing. Micha watches us intently, our hands caressing each other’s bare chests, exploring in a rush.

“Arlo is desperate to bury himself in a warm cunt, Karma. He wants to fuck you into the floor. You’re going to let him.” Micha drags me back and throws me towards the mattress, releasing Arlo to manipulate my body how he wants.

It goes against everything I am—letting someone control me so intimately—but I don’t fight, no matter how badly I itch to take cock without all this teasing.

Micha’s big hand presses my head into the mattress, and he hooks an arm beneath my stomach to pull me up to my knees, forcing my ass into the air. With my cheek pressed into the mattress, I struggle to see what’s happening behind me.