One Dirty Night

My mouth hung open as my brand-new knickers became drenched with need.

I couldn’t speak.

He’d undone me. Unthreaded every part of life until I no longer knew who I was.

“Am I wrong?” he whispered. “Tell me I’m wrong, and I’ll get on my knees in apology.” He winked. “Unless you’re into that? Perhaps I’ve read you incorrectly, and you’re a secret Dominatrix instead of a submissive just dying to be controlled.”

“I-I—”

He backed up, crossing his arms. “Let’s just get a few things straight before I completely lose my mind, alright? You came here on your own accord, correct? No one forced you to come here. It isn’t a dare gone bad or something you’re regretting already? I know you read the flyer. I saw you in your car, so I know you’re aware of what this place is.” Waving his hand at the big top behind him, he smiled like a hungry shark. “You know what goes on in there, and you also know the chances of you getting fucked seven ways to Sunday is extremely high if you step inside.”

I shuddered.

A full-body shiver that felt like a thousand tiny orgasms all at once. Licking my lips, doing my best to school my out-of-control heart, I said, “And if I stepped inside…would you…would you be the one doing the fucking?”

He laughed out loud, thick and dark, rough and gravelly. “Usually, I oversee the fucking. I’m on the clock, after all. I don’t participate that much these days. But…” Stepping back into me, he cupped my face with slightly scratchy palms.

Palms weathered from wielding sledgehammers in the rain.

Another flush of wetness.

Another lash of heat.

“But?” I breathed.

“I could be swayed to make an exception…for you.”

I trembled as a slideshow of possibilities filled me. Images of sleeping with this stranger. Letting him inside me. Letting him dominate me. Letting others watch him do those dirty things.

But what if someone I knew was in the crowd? What if I went to work on Monday and my boss had intimate knowledge of my come face or how I sounded when someone spanked me?

Oh God.

The horror.

Fear and propriety doused me in ice water. My hands flew up to his wrists, my fingers curling tight around him. “I, eh…I think I might’ve made a mistake.”

“Mistake?” He reared back, but his hands didn’t stop cupping me. “How so? I can practically smell your lust from here.”

“What if…what if people see? People I know?”

He smirked. “If they’re watching you, they’re here for the same reasons. We make everyone sign exclusive NDAs. We might be a circus, but we are a legitimate business with legalities and disclaimers. What goes on here, stays here.”

“Oh.”

Good but not foolproof.

“We have a licence to do what we do and prefer to move around rather than stay in one city.”

“Why?”

“So we can break the chains of lonely housewives or add spice to stale marriages in every town we go.” Brushing his nose over mine, he murmured, “Are you a lonely housewife, little witch?”

Nicholas shot into my head.

I shoved him out of it.

“Nope. Just me.”