Page 77 of Fairground

“W-what—?” I start to protest, my voice a mix of frustration and disbelief. “But you said?”

He turns to me, a wicked grin lighting up his face. “Oh, I forgot something down here,” he teases, pulling his hand away despite my pleading grip on his wrist.

“Don’t you dare,” I gasp, eyes wide as his grin grows boyish and infuriatingly smug, but he's already inside of the belly of the float and I'm still exposed through the top to the crowd with flushed cheeks and an ache between my legs that I can’t fix.

He easily shakes off my grip as he adjusts himself underneath me, but it’s useless because despite my fear, I want this too. Now I’m left facing the crowd—the very crowd I’m supposed to be impressing—and he's... gone?

And then he’s there.

His large hands grip both of my hips, firm and possessive, while his hot, wet tongue drags through my slit, teasing and tasting me like I’m his last meal. He’s relentless, lapping at me with broad strokes, while his fingers hook into the elastic of my underwear and drag it back and forth across my clit like a seesaw, the added friction making my knees shake.

I’m teetering on the edge already, barely holding it together as his thumbs press into the soft curves of my ass. One finger slides lower, brushing against my tight, puckered hole—not entering, just applying enough pressure to send an electric jolt through me. His beard rasps against my thighs as I feel him rub it everywhere. It feels like he’s everywhere right now, and the added bonus of not being able to see him or anticipate what he's going to do next only makes all of my senses so much more heightened.

“Cash,” I whisper, but it’s drowned out by the roar of the crowd outside, by the thudding of my heart, and the heat coiling tighter and tighter in my core. I can't look down at him, that would betoo obvious, so I fix my attention ahead instead. Ahead on the very long stretch of street we still need to cover.

My legs are trembling, the effort to stay upright becoming impossible. And just when I think I can’t take another second, it hits me—like a train, sharp and all-consuming. My head dips forward into my hands, my lips parting as I bite back a scream while Cash latches onto my clit with his lips and sucks downward. I pretend that I'm laughing for the crowd while the waves of my orgasm crash over me like the waves from the citizens of this small town that are putting way too much trust into Cash and I’s ability to be professional.

He doesn’t stop. His tongue and fingers keep working me, milking every ripple of pleasure until I feel like I’m boneless and spent. My body collapses, slipping through the opening of the pumpkin downward, and he catches me easily like he knew I’d fall.

He holds me for only a moment until he's in my ear whispering, “Now get on your hands and knees so I can take you from behind."

Chapter 32: Rae

I let him guide me, lowering to the floor of the pumpkin as the float bumps and rocks down the towns' road. My knees dig into the padded base, and I arch my back instinctively, desperate for more friction, more of him. My body’s still trembling from the aftershocks of y orgasm, but I’m ready for whatever he has planned next.? I never used to be like this. Eager for more immediately after getting an orgasm. But Cash has changed my mind about everything.

“What are you doing?” I ask, turning my head to look at him because he hasn’t touched me since he caught me and told me to get down here.

He’s standing behind me, his pants pushed low on his hips, boxers tented by his straining cock. It’s hard, pressing against the fabric and I can see the tip of him peeking through the opening in the front like it has no choice but to make itself known. His gaze holds mine as he watches me.

“Beg for it,” he says, voice low and rough around the edges, like gravel and heat.

I glance back at him, heart thudding. A line like that would’ve had me rolling my eyes with anyone else. But with Cash, it lands different. There’s no ego in it—just want. Just worship.

Because even as he tells me to beg, I can feel it—how tightly wound he is. How he’s barely holding it together.

And somehow, that makes me feel like the one in control. Like I’m the one pulling the strings.

“Please,” I whisper, my voice shaky but full of need. “Please. Fuck me.”

He pushes his boxers downward and wraps a hand around his cock, stroking it lazily as he lowers to his knees behind me. The tip glistens, and my mouth waters at the sight. Such a round, smooth head. Probably the most perfect one that I've ever seen. He slides it through my pussy once, twice, before pressing the head against my clit and rubbing.

“I need more than that, Rae,” he murmurs, his rough hands finding my hips again. He adjusts me, lifting slightly to angle me just right, my ass arched into him. “You know I like it when you say my name. When you tell me exactly how much you want me to ruin you.”

A moan slips from my lips before I can stop it, and I know I’m done for. This is exactly what I want—to be ruined by the man who names his chickens and has the gentlest hands but can’t seem to keep them off me. The man who’s supposed to be my rival but is wild enough to finger me in the middle of our town’s parade then fuck me in the bottom of a pumpkin float where the people we're begging to vote for us are standing a mere foot away. The guy everyone says doesn’t have a woman more than once and isn’t interested in settling down yet has taken me so many times I’ve lost count.

“Please,” I gasp. “Please, Cash, fuck me. I need you to ruin me.”

A smirk crosses his face, slow and knowing, as he tears into a condom. He rolls it on with practiced ease, the thick head of his cock pressing against my entrance. He pushes in just enough to make me gasp, then pulls back.

“More,” I whine, my voice cracking with desperation. “Cash, give me all of you. I need it. I need you.”

“Greedy girl,” he teases, his tone dripping with amusement as his fingers kneed the flesh on my ass.

“Hurry!” I snap, my patience fraying. My hands claw at the wooden floor of the float, my body writhing with need. “The parade’s going to end, and they’re going to open this damn pumpkin and find us naked and fucking. It smellslike sex in here already.”

His grin widens, cocky and unapologetic. “That’s because of you, my dear, and your sweet cunt. Plus, I like how it smells in here. Isn’t that part of the thrill? Knowing we could get caught? Bet you’re extra wet just thinking about that possibility.”

He pulls back again, completely this time, and shifts his weight until he drops his head between my legs. His hands grip my thighs as he spreads me. I let out a moan because I think he’s right. I never thought I liked the thrill of knowing someone could be watching us, but I realized fast that the thrill turns me on so much more.

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