Chapter 11 Amélie
Amélie
The big top was dark and empty, illuminated only by a single, soft golden light high above us.
Almost three weeks had passed since my little bird had faced her demons and slayed them, and she was like a different person.
The underlying fragility that had lingered had gone, moulded into something strong and certain.
She had chased away the shadows that followed her for good, and now she was here—happy, light, free, and undeniably, breathtakingly beautiful.
We reached the centre of the ring, and I gestured upwards, to the two long lengths of aerial silk hanging from the rig, the deep crimson fabric barely visible in the low light.
“I thought…” I began, turning to face Hemlock. “I thought maybe we could try something new. Something that’s just ours.” My gaze trailed over her body, lingering, and her eyes widened, her lips parting.
“Oh,” she breathed. “Oh.”
“Only if you want to. I know it’s different. But I thought, maybe…to be up there together, nothing holding us except the silks and each other…flying free…”
She looked up at the ribbons, then back at me, heat flaring in her gaze.
“Yes,” she said. “Fuck, yes. I want to.”
“Then let’s do it. And anytime you want to stop, just say the word.”
She smiled at me as we kicked off our shoes and discarded our top layers until we were both clad in only our sports bras and leggings.
From my bag, I pulled out a small, antique knife with an ornate golden handle—one that Florin had helped me to purchase after a barrage of incredibly intrusive questions.
The blade was razor-sharp, perfectly balanced, and polished to a mirror shine.
Hemlock’s eyes widened slightly when she saw it, but I could clearly see the intrigue in her expression.
“Trust me?” I asked softly.
“Always.” Her gaze turned serious. “You make me feel safe. I know I’m safe with you.”
I nodded, too overcome to speak at her show of trust, and she wrapped her fingers around my wrist, pulling me towards her so she could brush her lips over mine. “You’re safe with me too,” she whispered.
I finally found my voice. “I know.”
Drawing back, she glanced up at the silks. “Then let’s do this.”
When we were both securely suspended, I pulled myself closer using the silk, bringing us near enough that I could lean in and kiss her. “Okay?” I murmured against her lips.
“More than okay.”
Her mouth met mine, one of her hands gripping the silk for support while the other cupped the back of my neck, her fingers sliding through my hair.
Without breaking the kiss, I adjusted my position, freeing my hands so I could explore her body, trailing my fingers across her shoulders, down her arms, over the curve of her waist. Everywhere except the places she wanted me to touch her most.
She gasped against my mouth, her body arching into my touch. I pressed my thighs together, aching. This was as much a torture for me as it was for her.
I kissed down her throat, and her head fell back.
“Amélie,” she breathed. “Fuck. Wait.” I drew back slightly, and she moved, expertly adjusting the crimson fabric so she was lying back with the silk cupping her body, her legs slightly parted. When our eyes met again, a slow, sultry smile curved over her lips. An invitation.
“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous,” I murmured, moving closer, until I was essentially hovering above her, supported by the fabric wrapped around my waist and hips. I lowered myself slowly, my body covering hers, and we both moaned as we pressed together.
Reaching for the small knife I’d carefully secured, I brought it up between us, the blade glinting in the dim light. “Tell me if you want me to stop. Any time. Okay?”
“I will.”
Carefully, I slid the blade under the centre of the hem of her sports bra, keeping my free hand wrapped around my silk for stability.
With one smooth motion, I sliced upwards, and she gasped, her breasts heaving as the cool air hit her newly exposed skin.
I peeled the ruined fabric away, letting it fall to the safety net below.
I didn’t even have time to appreciate the view before her fingers were curving around the handle of the knife.
“Your turn,” she breathed, her hand steady as she mimicked my movements. Cold metal kissed my skin for a second before she slashed through the fabric in one decisive movement. My breasts spilled free, and I watched her eyes darken as she took me in.
“Beautiful,” she whispered.
I took the knife back, trailing the flat of the blade across her collarbone, down between her breasts, watching her shiver at the sensation. “You like that?”
“Mmmm.”
I moved the knife lower, to the waistband of her leggings. “These need to go too.”
She lifted her hips as much as she could in her silk restraints, and I carefully sliced through one side of her leggings, then the other, peeling the fabric away until there was nothing left.
Her bare body, wrapped in crimson, was the most beautiful and erotic sight I’d ever seen in my life.
The ache between my thighs was impossible to ignore, my leggings damp with my arousal, my whole body on fire with desire for this woman who was my everything.
“Now, you.” Taking the knife, she cut through my leggings slowly and deliberately, leaving me just as naked as she was. Before she could touch me, though, I had to touch her. To feel her fucking soar.
My hand ran down her soft, warm skin, stopping just above her clit.
She was already so wet for me, glistening in the low light.
Unable to hold myself back any longer, I slid two fingers inside her in one smooth motion, and she cried out, her back arching in the silk, her fingers flexing around the smooth material.
“That’s it.” My thumb circled her clit as I curved my fingers inside her. “You feel so good.”
The silks swayed as I used my fingers to bring her closer and closer to the edge.
Lowering myself so I could get my mouth on one of her pretty breasts, I teased her nipple first with my tongue, and then with my lips, before moving to her other breast. She was panting and gasping by the time I moved my mouth to her delicious pussy, replacing my fingers with my tongue, and then she shattered around me.
Her cry echoed through the empty big top, her body shaking as I worked her through it, until her hand slid into my hair, gently tugging me upwards. She finally stilled with a soft groan.
“Fuck. That was—” She breathed out shakily, and then her eyes met mine, so wide and dark and hungry. “Your turn.”