Page 89 of Carved Obsession

He chuckles against my sex, sending tingling vibrations through it, and I press him harder against me, fingers tangled in his hair as I moan.

“So wet. So greedy. Soperfect,” he praises, voice low, husky. “My wild fucking girl.”

“Aaah!” Pleasure arrows deep in my core as he plunges his fingers inside.

“This pussy is mine now.” He lays his claim as a current strikes through my body with each powerful thrust of his fingers.

Yours . . .

I don’t know if I spoke that word or just thought it. He growls against my folds, hungry and demanding.

“What else do you love about inflicting pain, kitten?”

But I’m struggling to form words when his digits stroke the most forbidden parts of me on a maddening rhythm that threatens to rip away any semblance of sanity.

“It’s a beast...lying dormant inside people.” My back arches high, nails scraping against the wall above my head with the pleasure rippling from the clit he so expertly sucks. “And when it gets a voice...it devours their humanity. Powerful enough that it even turns them against the ones they love the most.”

Memories flash in my mind of people who had fallen victim to me. Beautiful moments of agony I carefully mapped out and learned. Enjoyed. Now they mix with this exquisite assault led by Carter’s tongue and fingers. The combination is exquisite.

He knew exactly what he was doing when he slid under the covers.

A trap I launched myself into.

But I wouldn’t crawl out, even if I could. The ecstasy is addictive, cresting higher and higher, and Ineedto find out where it takes me. It feels different from before, when he fucked me so very well and gave me my first ever orgasm by a man.

“One more,” he whispers.

My pussy stretches with a further intrusion. A fullness that makes me writhe with the wanton pleasure it brings. With erratic breaths, I roll my hips like I’m fucking myself with Carter’s fingers.

“Yes, just like that, my greedy little whore. You’re so fucking wet for me.” His smoky praises work on me just as well as his fingers, and I would crawl at his feet if he’d keep talking to me like that. “Pain is a wonderful thing, love. What do you like most about inflicting it?”

“Their tears.” I don’t waste a breath with my reply. “Blood, screams, or death are not the peak of it all—tears are.”

He rolls his fingers against that sensitive spot that has never felt another person’s touch before. My ex is completely clueless, clearly, and the few before him never took the time.

“They’re the tangible relinquishment of hope in the face of agony,” I add between heaving breaths.

His tongue presses against my clit as his lips latch onto it, pleasure brimming at an untouchable edge I want to dive off of as I curl my toes and dig my heels into the mattress.

“They’re the omen of finality,” I whimper. “The ode to pain.”

With that last word and one final roll of his digits, I explode around them in bursting stars and ripples of ecstasy coiling inside my sex, my belly, through my spine, gripping my nipples and tearing out of my throat in a primal scream that puts the thunderous storm to shame.

“And I collect them all...” I whisper through the orgasm’s shattering waves.

Carter

Through the fascination at Scarlet’s violent orgasm, quivering body, and pleasure-laced features, my mind snaps to that moment in her house when I saw some delicate vials under the vanity mirror. Are those it? The tears she collects?

She’s such a weird creature.

And here I am, fucking mesmerized by her.

“I don’t know how you did that. Twice,” she murmurs in a lazy, well-fucked voice as I crawl up her body and lie next to her.

“Almost make you squirt?”

“Sorry, what?” she exclaims with widening eyes.