16. Flora

16

FLORA

M y hands shake as I stare at the unknown number on my phone screen. Another voicemail. The bathroom’s fluorescent lights flicker overhead as I press play, sliding down against the cold tile wall.

“You think you can just leave?” Tommy’s voice slithers through the speaker. “You belong to us, Flora. We’ll find you.”

I end the message, my chest tight and breathing shallow. Jake’s texts flood my notifications from yet another number I didn’t block. The words blur together—threats, promises of what they’ll do when they find me.

The carnival feels far away, even though I can hear the music and laughter outside. My safe haven suddenly seems paper-thin.

I scramble to my feet, needing to escape the suffocating confines of the bathroom stall. My vision tunnels as panic sets in. I throw open the door and bolt forward, slamming straight into someone.

“Oof!” A feminine voice exclaims as we collide.

I stumble back, my phone clattering to the floor. Through tear-blurred eyes, I make out a brunette woman about my age.

“I’m so sorry,” I gasp, dropping to retrieve my phone. My hands are trembling so badly I can barely grip them.

“Hey, are you okay?” The woman—Aurora, I think her name is—kneels beside me. Her eyes are filled with genuine concern. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I try to speak, but my throat closes up. The phone buzzes with another message, making me flinch.

I wipe my eyes, trying to compose myself. Aurora’s kind face reminds me of someone I knew in high school—before everything went wrong.

“I’m fine,” I manage, though my voice cracks. “Just... family stuff.”

Aurora nods, understanding filling her eyes. She doesn’t push, doesn’t pry. Instead, she helps me up from the bathroom floor, giving me space to steady myself.

“Listen,” she says, tucking dark hair behind her ear. “Some of us girls are having a movie night tonight. Nothing fancy—just popcorn, snacks, probably some terrible rom-coms.” Her smile is warm and inviting. “You should join us. It’s always nice to have fresh faces around.”

My instinct is to decline. Being around people I don’t know makes me nervous, especially after everything. But something in Aurora’s gentle demeanor makes me hesitate.

“I... maybe?” The word comes out as a question. “I’m not sure if?—”

“No pressure,” Aurora cuts in smoothly. “We’re meeting in the main tent at seven. If you feel up to it, great. If not, there’s always next time.”

She makes it sound so simple, so casual. Like I’m not broken. The thought brings an unexpected lump to my throat.

“Thanks,” I whisper. “I’ll think about it.”

I hesitate at the trailer door, my hand hovering over the handle. Through the window, I can see Nash sitting at the small table, focused on what appears to be paperwork. My earlier conversation with Aurora still echoes, but something about Nash’s presence helps steady my nerves.

Taking a deep breath, I push open the door. Nash looks up, a smile crossing his face as he sees me.

“Hey, little bird.” He sets down his pen. “Thought you’d be practicing with Colt.”

“He had to check something with Tyson.” I step inside, closing the door behind me. The trailer feels different with just the two of us—not uncomfortable, just... different. “What are you working on?”

Nash shuffles the papers together. “Schedule planning for the Christmas show. Making sure everyone’s routines flow together.” He gestures to the empty chair across from him. “Want to join me? I could use a fresh perspective.”

I slide into the seat, grateful for the casual invitation. Nash has always been quieter than Colt, more reserved but less intense. “I don’t know much about show planning.”

“You know more than you think.” He pushes a sheet toward me. “See these time slots? Each act needs proper setup and breakdown time. It’s like a puzzle.”

As Nash explains the intricacies of show planning, I find myself relaxing. He has a way of making complex things seem simple. We discuss different acts, and he asks my opinion on transition times.

“What made you join the carnival?” I ask during a lull in the conversation. “If you don’t mind telling me.”

Nash leans back, his eyes meeting mine. “Freedom,” he says simply. “The chance to create something beautiful and dangerous.” He pauses, studying me. “What about you? What brought you to our world?”

“Freedom,” I echo his word, watching something flicker in his eyes. A shadow of recognition, maybe understanding. There’s darkness in his past, too—I can sense it, like recognizing your own reflection in murky water.

“What about your family?” The question slips out before I can stop it. “Do they?—”

“Ah ah,” Nash cuts me off, but his tone stays light, playful. His fingers drum against the table. “That’s not a road we’re going down today.” He pushes back his chair slightly, patting his thigh. “Come here instead.”

I recognize the deflection for what it is—I’ve used similar tactics myself often enough. But I like having Nash’s full attention without Colt present. Different dynamic, different energy.

Rising from my chair, I move around the table. Nash’s hands find my hips as I straddle his lap. The position is already familiar despite being new with just him.

“Much better topic of conversation,” he murmurs, one hand sliding up my back. His other grips my hip, keeping me steady.

“Tell me what you want,” Nash murmurs, his lips ghosting along my jawline, up to my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Tell me exactly what I can do to drive you wild.”

My pulse thrums between my legs, my core throbbing with desire as he teases me. I squeeze my thighs together, savoring the delicious pressure. With Colt, things started rough. But with Nash... my body craves something different. Something that makes my skin shiver and my heart pound.

“I want you to take your time.” My voice sounds breathless, even to my own ears. “Make me wait for it. Every touch, every kiss, every stroke... I want to feel it building inside me until I can’t take it anymore.”

His teeth nip at my earlobe, and a shiver runs through me. “And then?” His hand slides down the small of my back, the promise of possession in his touch.

“Then I want you to claim me,” I whisper. “Mark me. Make me scream your name.”

A low growl rumbles in his throat as his hand squeezes my hip. “I want to hear those cries, little bird. I want to make you feel so good you can’t remember anyone else.” He nibbles his way down my neck, his tongue tracing a path that makes my breath hitch. “But you have to earn it.”

My breath catches as he speaks. Earn it. Those words send a thrill through me, something primal and captivating. I want his marks on my body. I want him to stake his claim.

“How?” I barely recognize the needy tone in my own voice. My hands tangle in his hair, keeping him close.

His hand slides up my back, sending shivers dancing across my skin. “By taking everything I give you. Every kiss, every touch, every stroke...” He punctuates each word with a kiss along my collarbone. “Show me you can take it all, little bird. That you can fly apart for me.”

My entire body tingles, every nerve ending coming alive under his lips and hands. His tongue teases the hollow of my throat as his hands grip my hips, urging me to grind against him.

“Yes,” I breathe. “God, yes.”

“Good girl,” he hums, his breath sending goosebumps along my skin. “Now, for your first lesson...”

He kisses a path back to my ear, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin. “I’m going to kiss you, touch you, make you feel so damn good. But you’re not allowed to come.”

He swirls his tongue in my ear, biting gently on the lobe. “Not until I say so. Understand?”

The challenge in his words pulls a whimper from deep within me. “Ye-yes, I understand.”

His hand finds the nape of my neck, tilting my head back to expose my throat. He kisses along my pulse point, his tongue lapping against the rapid beats of my heart. “If you come before I say you can, the lesson starts over.”

I bite my lip, a unique thrill coursing through me. “And if I make it through?”

Nash’s chuckle sends vibrations through my body. “Then I’ll give you what you’ve been yearning for. Every inch of me, driving into you while you scream my name.”

I whimper as he teases my earlobe with his teeth. His fingers tighten on my hips as he slides me forward, grinding me against the unmistakable hardness straining his jeans. My hands fist in his hair, holding him close, needing this connection.

Nash pulls me to my feet, his hand warm against mine. He leads me through the trailer to his room, which I’ve never been in before. The bright morning light streams through the windows, splashing across the bed, making the moment surreal.

He halts near the bed, holding my hand to his chest. “There’s only one rule here, little bird.” His eyes hold mine. “You have to do everything I say.”

I swallow, my mouth dry. I can feel the weight of his gaze on me. “Okay.”

“Strip,” he commands, his voice soft but unwavering. “Take it all off and put on a show for me.”

My heart rate quickens as I nod, excitement and trepidation flowing through me. I face Nash and slowly lift my shirt over my head, angling my body to give him a better view. I know he can see the desire in my eyes, reflected back at me in his.

With deliberate movements, I unbutton my jeans, sliding them down my legs, followed by my panties. Stepping out of the circle of denim and lace, I raise my arms to undo my bra. I let the straps fall from my shoulders, dragging the lace slowly down my arms, my eyes never leaving his. I stand before him, completely naked, vulnerable, and undeniably aroused.

A low growl rumbles in his throat, and he steps forward. But he doesn’t touch me, not yet. His gaze roams over my body, drinking me in. My nipples pebble in the cool air, and I feel myself getting wetter by the second.

Nash takes his time, savoring the sight of me with an appreciation that shoots straight to my core. “Beautiful,” he breathes, reaching out to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. His fingers skim my cheek and jaw, his thumb grazing my lower lip.

Without warning, he spins me around and pushes me gently toward the bed. “Grab the headboard.”

My heart is pounding as I do as he says, gripping the wooden bars of the headboard. I feel the bed dip as he joins me, his body heat warming the air behind me. His hands wrap around my wrists, guiding them to the center of the headboard, and then I feel the soft fabric of a silk tie winding around them.

“Stay just like that.” His breath is hot against my shoulder, making me shiver. “Right where I can see you.”

The sound of him removing his clothes fills the room—the rustle of fabric, the jangle of his belt buckle. And then I feel the mattress shift as he kneels on it, his lips and hands caressing the backs of my thighs. “So perfect,” he murmurs, planting soft kisses up the backs of my legs, making me quiver.

His lips press against a sensitive spot just behind my knee, making me gasp. And then his hands are on my ass, kneading, squeezing, claiming me as his. His tongue traces a path up the crease, making me squirm, and then his lips are on me, his mouth replacing his hands.

His fingers delve into my folds, spreading me open as his tongue swipes and laps. My knees nearly buckle at the sensation, and I cry out, my wrists straining against the restraints. He hums his approval, the vibration sending shocks of pleasure through me. One finger teases my entrance, slipping inside as his tongue dances over my clit. I cry out again, unable to hold back.

Nash’s mouth does things to me that make coherent thought impossible. I’m reduced to a quivering mess of need, and I’ve only been with him a week.

“Please,” I beg, my voice muffled by the pillows. “Please, I need to come. Let me come, Nash.”

“Not yet.” His voice is firm, his breath hot against my ear. His fingers slide out of me, making me whimper, but then he strokes me again, right where I need it, and my body aches uncontrollably. “I want you begging for my cock.”

My knuckles are white as I grip the pillow, pressing my face into the softness to muffle my cries. Nash teases my entrance, circling but not entering, his fingers coated in my wetness. I whimper at the loss of contact, my core clenching desperately.

“You like that, don’t you?” His tongue swipes against my earlobe, his lips brushing my ear. “You like being denied.”

“Yes,” I whimper, my cheeks burning. “Please, Nash, I need you. Please.”

He chuckles, the sound sending shivers down my spine. “Not yet. I want you to remember this.”

The pressure builds inside me, threatening to overwhelm my senses. Nash continues to stroke and tease, pushing me closer to the edge. I feel like I’m drowning in sensations, and he’s the only thing keeping me afloat.

“Please... Nash...” I’m not sure what I’m pleading for anymore—release, more, him. Everything and anything.

His fingers slide out of me again, trailing down to circle my clit lazily. I look over my shoulder, and he delights as I squirm, his dark gaze burning into mine. My hair is tangled, my body covered in a sheen of sweat, and I’ve never felt more alive.

“Please, what?” His thumb presses against me, slow and purposeful. “Tell me what you want.”

The sensation has me seesawing, hovering on the precipice of something all-consuming. “Please... fuck me. God, Nash, I need you inside me.”

“You’ll take it when I give it to you,” he growls, his thumb circling my clit relentlessly. “Not before.”

A strangled sound escapes my throat. I don’t know how much more I can take. My head falls back as his fingers delve back inside me.

“Don’t be shy, little bird,” he encourages. “Let me hear how much you crave it.”

I can’t speak, can’t form words. My walls clench around his fingers, craving more, needing release. “Nash, please... please...”

“Shh.” His fingers slip out of me and find my clit again, rubbing slow, teasing circles that make me squirm. “Not until I say so, remember?”

I’m sobbing, begging for more, and Nash is relentless. With every stroke of his fingers, with every caress of his tongue, he pushes me closer to the edge, only to back off at the last moment, letting me tumble back into the abyss. I don’t know how much longer I can take this delicious torture, but I don’t want it to end.

Nash’s touch is everywhere and nowhere, a ghost haunting my most sensitive spots. His tongue dances along my spine as his fingers graze my nipples, teasing me, tormenting me. My skin is alive with sensation, every inch of me singing with need. “Please, Nash...”

In response, he spreads my legs wider, kissing the backs of my thighs, his fingers dipping between my folds but never quite giving me what I crave. “Soon. It’s all coming soon.” His breath is hot against my skin as his fingers continue their maddening dance.

His mouth travels up my spine, his lips skating along my shoulder blades as he pushes me forward. I cry out as he nips at my neck, my body yearning to be filled. His fingers continue their teasing exploration, circling, stroking, but never entering. I can feel the slickness between my legs, the ache building, threatening to consume me. “Nash, please... I need you. Now.”

He chuckles, the sound warm against my ear. “Not yet. Not until I say so.” His fingers slide inside me, filling me, only to withdraw again, leaving me empty and wanting. “You have to earn it. Every inch.”

“I’ll do anything,” I moan, my body burning with the need to come. My core clenches uselessly as his fingers tease me, rubbing circles around my clit, dipping into my entrance but never truly claiming me. “Anything you want, just please let me come.”

“Tell me what you want,” Nash commands, his voice a low purr that sends shivers down my spine. His fingers curl around my hips, guiding me back so I’m flush against his chest.

I whimper as his cock rubs against my core, his length hard and insistent.

“You know what I want.” My voice comes out as a needy whisper. I look over my shoulder, meeting his dark gaze. “I want you to fuck me, Nash. I want to feel you inside me.”

A cruel smile crosses his lips as he reaches around, his fingers finding my clit. He rubs his cock through my folds, his touch electric, and I can’t help but buck against him.

“I know what you want.” His voice is a silken thread of temptation. “But do you know what I want to hear?”

My breath comes in short gasps as he teases me relentlessly. He knows what I want, what I crave, and he’s torturing me with it. “Please...” The plea escapes my lips before I can stop it. “Please, Nash. I need you.”

His thumb rubs circles around my clit, his cock pressed against my entrance but not entering. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”

The words tumble from my lips, fueled by desperation. “I want you to fill me, Nash. I want your big dick pounding into me, claiming me as yours.”

A low growl rumbles in his chest, vibrating against my back. “And if I do that, will you come for me? Right here, on my cock?”

I arch my back. “Yes, I’ll come for you. I’ll scream your name.”

He chuckles, his breath hot against my ear. “Not yet. Hold it in until I say so. Understand?”

I bite my lip, my whole body thrumming with need. “Yes, I understand.”

“Good girl.” His fingers find my hips, guiding me back until the head of his cock is positioned perfectly at my entrance. “Now, tell me again.”

Desire makes my voice hoarse as I speak. “I want you to fill me with your big dick, Nash. Please, make me yours.”

“As you wish.” With one swift, hard stroke, he fills me. The sensation is overwhelming, consuming me from the inside out. I cry out, my body exploding in a rush of pleasure. My core clenches around him, my release washing over me as he claims me.

“God, little bird,” Nash’s voice is gravelly as he tightens his grip on my hips. “Let go and cover my cock with your release. I want to feel every drop.”

Sensation pulses through me in waves, my body shaking uncontrollably. Nash fucks me through it, prolonging the aftershocks of my release. I can feel his cock twitching inside me, his breathing as unsteady as my own.

“You feel so damn good.” His lips brush my shoulder, his hips shifting slightly, making me whimper. “But we’re not done yet.”

I moan as he begins to move, his thrusts slow and controlled. Each stroke fills me, possessing me, branding me as his. My body reacts to his every touch, my walls clenching around him as if they never want to let him go.

You’re doing so well,” Nash murmurs, his breath hitching. Accept all of me. Take every inch deep inside you.”

His hands find my hips, holding me in place as he increases the pace, pounding into me relentlessly.

“Come for me again,” he growls. “Come on my cock.”

His words ignite something primal inside me, and my body responds, tightening around him as I fall over the edge again. My release washes over me in waves, my screams muffled by the pillow as Nash continues to thrust into me, his own release imminent.

“That’s right. I want to hear you scream out my name.” His voice is hoarse, his movements becoming frantic as he seeks his own pleasure.

My core clenches uncontrollably, milking his cock as he fills me with his release. Nash groans, his body trembling against mine as he spills himself inside me, marking me irrevocably as his.

We collapse onto the bed, our bodies tangled together, breathing labored. Nash’s arms wrap around me, holding me close as our hearts pound in unison. “That was... incredible,” he murmurs, his lips pressing against my hair.

I hum my agreement, my eyes drifting closed as I savor the feel of him inside me. “It was.”

Nash’s fingers draw idle patterns on my back, his breath evening out as he holds me. After a moment, he asks, “Are you okay?”

I nuzzle into his touch, a small smile curving my lips. “Better than okay.”

His low chuckle vibrates against my back. “Glad to hear it.”

I lie in Nash’s arms, feeling his chest’s steady rise and fall against my back. His presence wraps around me like a protective cocoon, making me feel safer than ever.

Strangely, someone who initially seemed so intimidating has become my safe harbor. Nash’s quiet intensity no longer scares me; instead, it grounds me, anchoring me in moments when I feel like I might drift away. He doesn’t try to fix or change me.

I close my eyes, listening to his heartbeat. With Nash, I’m starting to believe I may deserve this kind of care and understanding. Maybe I’m not as broken as I thought.