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My eyes widened, because he had never invited me inside the arena before. But I stood and hurried over to him, my chains clattering against each other. His body was covered in sweat, his tattoos glistening.
Hands snaking around my waist, he picked me up and sat me on his lap on the bike. I inhaled sharply, never having been this close to him before. “Wh-What are you doing?” I whispered, nervous that someone would see.
He pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked my chains here.
Which he had never done before.
“Hold on tight,” he said.
“H-Hold on to what?” I whispered, staring down at his sweaty, taut body. My gaze dropped even lower to the way I straddled him, my pussy nestled against his crotch, the heat growing between my legs.
“Me,” he said, starting the bike.
Which was forbidden too.
A slave couldn’t be on the equipment they used here. And the bikes were circus property, forbidden to leave the tent. But by the way he revved the engine… It didn’t seem like we were staying here.
“We’re getting out of here,” he said. “For good.”
When the bike lunged forward, I clutched hard onto him, my arms wrapping around his shoulders and my front pressed against his. He hit the accelerator, speeding up to exit the tent, the tires lifting off the ground.
I buried my face into the crook of his neck, wincing at the thought of crashing. But he steered the bike through the streets, down thin alleyways, and out of our small city with ease, speeding up the entire time. Wind whipped my hair back.
We drove and drove and drove for what seemed like hours until he finally parked on the side of the road and turned off the bike. I lifted my head off his shoulder and glanced around at large steel gates in front of the most massive mansion that I had ever seen.
“What is this place?” I asked.
“My home,” he said.
“B-But your home is an old apartment back in the city,” I whispered. “This is a mansion.”
And the biggest estate I had ever seen.
Instead of moving me, he leaned back on the bike and stared. I peered over at him, then down at how close I was to him. I quickly jerked back–because slaves should never be this close to their masters unless the master orders them too.
But he placed his hand on the small of my back and pulled me toward him once more.
Eyes as dark as the night, he didn’t say a word to me. The heat grew between my thighs again, the thought of him in that cage of death, the fire stunts he had pulled off with ease way too many times in the past few weeks…
Part of me didn’t even believe he was human.
“What are you?” I whispered.
“You shouldn’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.”
“I want to know.”
He grasped my chin, gaze darkening. “A monster.”
But to me, he was a fucking savior. A man I would do anything for.
Willingly.
“I’ve waited to touch you for weeks now,” he murmured, hand clasped around my jaw. “Weeks of watching you undress in that spare bedroom, watching to see if you’d attempt to escape while I left you alone. Most slaves would’ve taken the chance. Why’d you stay?”
“Because you’re nice to me,” I said, voice trembling. I dropped my gaze to his shoulders, then to his chest, then to the front of his pants, his bulge. God, he was so close. “Right?”
“You’re trembling already,” he murmured. “I’ve barely touched you.”
