Page 42 of Carved Obsession

She rubs that bundle of nerves with the pad of her palm, finger-fucking her pussy in punishment, demanding the rapture-divining cliff to inch closer.

Is that a promise, killer-boy?

You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Is your messy little cunt dripping thinking of all the pleasure I could drown you in?

Yes. Oh god, yesss!

The reply comes so quickly, I almost come on the fucking spot.

Are you filling your pussy with your fingers, imagining my fat cock pumping it full of cum?

“Oh god, oh god! Oh...that filthy, filthy mouth. Fuuuck!”she cries out as she reads the text.

I’ve created a monster. Two, maybe...because I struggle to recognize myself. I’m a creature of logic, but right now, I’m built of lust alone.

Please…

I read that text two dozen times at least. Over and over. Until my cock aches to burst, imagining Scarlet beneath me, begging me to let her come all over me. Begging for every inch. For my cock to stretch her, my cum to fill her perfect little cunt.

Come.

She reads my command, and the phone slides out of her hand as she braces herself against the headboard. Eyes squeezed shut, mouth wide, and head thrown back, she cries out as the orgasm hits her head-on.

Bliss coats her pleasure-laced screams as she writhes on her bed, legs shaking uncontrollably.

Then she screamsmy name.

My goddamn name.

“Jesus Christ, woman!” My balls draw up, and my load shoots out in heavy, explosive streams all over the fucking wall as Scarlet’s voice echoes through my bathroom, crying out my name in pure ecstasy.

The threads of pleasure run deep, weaving around my goddamn soul as I step backward until my shoulder blades hit the cold wall.

This is a line I shouldn’t have crossed. There’s no coming back from this.

But I fucking needed this.

And I want so much more.

I was wrong before I opened the feed to her camera. This won’t become addicting. Because it already is.

Scarlet

I woke up with an almost painful smile on my face this morning. The music was on, breakfast tasted amazing, andallthe birds seemed to be singing in the garden. The day looked fucking promising.

If I didn’t already have plans, I would have been at Carter’s door after I woke up, confronting him about all the texts from last night. I would have made him face me rather than hide behind a screen. Maybe I would have jumped him and ground against his beautifully carved body hiding underneath those tailored three-piece suits.

No maybe; I would havedefinitelyjumped him.

Maybe put a knife to his throat for daring to try to fucking kill me.

But that particular pleasure will have to wait.

Today is mostly a surveillance day. The primary focus is my next target. Dad and I have been on this guy for weeks now, and our window is opening tomorrow night. It’s a bit of a different job than what we’re used to, and not because our target will be at home. That just makes it so much more exciting. I love a good challenge that gets the adrenaline pumping and the blood pressure spiking.

Everything is organized, and there’s no more planning to be done. Only surveillance of the man to ensure no changes to the plan are necessary.

I’ve been at it for hours, constantly carrying my laptop around. On the sofa. On the deck. While lifting weights in my spare bedroom. On the treadmill. In the natural pool out in the garden.