Page 113 of Carved Obsession

“The control I must exert with you is exhilarating. Scarlet, you are the single most intriguing and coveted thing in my life now. An enigma that is all mine.”

I recoil at that last choice of words—enigma. I’ve heard that before. Not a single positive followed after.

But Carter is different. He has to be.

“Is that it? You want me because I suddenly became more interesting to you?”

“I wanted you before. You know that. Don’t twist this.” He scoots closer, leaning over and plucking the joint from my fingers. “You simply added more to that pot of desire. And not just that, but my desire to keep you safe.”

He takes a hit, sucking in slowly, and fuck me if it’s not the most seductive gesture I’ve ever seen. His head falls back as he exhales, and I realize my mouth has fallen open.

I’ve tried so hard to ignore this, but right here, in my home, where he seems to fit so very well, I can’t deny how much I want this man. Not just to fuck or play with, but...him.All of him.

I was afraid of falling, but it’s too late. I’m deep in that crevasse. What a fucking mistake this is.

What will he do when he finds out everything I can’t offer him? What I’ll never be willing to give? Would he ever be okay with just the two of us?

“Now, we’ve talked enough of pain.” He takes another puff, hands the spliff back to me, and takes my hand. “I think I owe you some pleasure.”

I can’t help the curious smile as I let him guide me through my own house, walking us out the back door that overlooks the pond. Without a second thought, he grabs a blanket out of the basket perched on the small porch and heads straight for the water.

“Carter?”

He glances at me before he gives the blanket one shake and lays it on the ground.

“You seem to be awfully familiar with my house.”

I could be on the fucking moon and there’s no way I could miss the devious grin touching his eyes.

He doesn’t grace me with an answer as he walks over to me, grabs the spliff, and takes a smoke. Then he places it between my lips to do the same before he stubs it in the grass. He reaches behind my neck and unties my dress for the second time tonight, helping it down after it falls to my hips. I step out of it, and there’s no hesitation as he undoes the teddy too, taking it off, along with my shoes, and leaving me naked before him.

“You can’t distract me from your answer with my own nakedness.” I say to him.

A ghost of a smile touches his lips, and one by one, he unbuttons his waistcoat, peeling it off before he follows up with his white shirt. I don’t plan on helping at all. I sit on the blanket he laid for us and admire the excruciatingly beautiful view as I prop myself on my forearms.

When his heavily tattooed torso is revealed, my mouth goes dry. Yet, not as fucking dry as when he unbuckles his belt. With his eyes trained on me, he grabs the buckle and pulls the damned thing out in one swift motion. It’s so unbearably hot that I can’t keep myself from squeezing my thighs together. And he notices, snapping the belt in the air once, watching me flinch with a grin on his lips before he drops it on the ground.

His shoes, socks, trousers, and boxers follow only seconds later, and finally...Carter Pierce’s tattooed body is stark naked in my garden, in all his damn glory, the Jacob’s ladder on his half-hard cock on full display.

I cannot with this man. He’s too much and not enough, all at once. I want to crawl under his skin and make a home there, because I struggle to get enough of him.

“Tell me why—”

“Because I’ve been here before, kitten.” He drops to his knees on the blanket, shoving my legs open so he can situate himself between them. “I’ve walked through your house...” He licks a path from my navel to between my breasts, continuing upward until he reaches my throat and swallows my incoming protest.

He’s been in my house?

He kisses me slowly, tongue swiping inside my mouth, pushing me to my back when I try to pull away. It’s clear this is on his terms. Once more, this man is staking his claim, only this time, his possessiveness is directed at me.

“I have watched you from the shadows of your own home,” he whispers on a ragged breath before he plunges between my lips.

“Aaah!” I cry out when his fingers glide down my wetness and push past my folds to enter me.

“Was there as you showered without one single care in the world. And you had no idea.”

The words he speaks stimulate me almost as much as his fingers. The prospect of this particular man standing in my home without my knowledge makes me sickeningly hot.

“Such a fucking stalker,” I whimper, accusing him as I buck my hips downward and seek more pleasure.