Page 90 of Carved Obsession

I pull my hand from under the cover, her wetness all but dripping off of the three fingers I fucked her with, though my entire hand is coated. Half my face too.

“Oh my god...” she whispers. “Let me get you a towel.”

“I’ll get it, love.” I slide two of those fingers between my lips, sucking her sweet flavor off of them on a long groan.

“Holy fuck,” she all but moans.

I cock an eyebrow, then slide out of bed to grab the discarded towel, wipe myself, and slide back in.

“And you really never orgasmed before by another person?” I ask.

Shaking her head, she looks sheepish for the first time since I met her.

“No wonder you’re divorcing Camora.”

She bursts into chesty laughter, and I’m transfixed. God, the more time I spend with this woman, the more I find new things to be enthralled by.

“If only that would have been the reason. But others before him were just as unsuccessful. I thought I was to blame.”

The mention of the other people she’s been with makes me want to track them all down and beat the memories of Scarlet right out of their brains.

“What was the reason?” Finally, I get to know why she’s divorcing Camora.

“I found out he was cheating on me, for quite a while. That night, actually...when you and I first met.”

“And that night you were . . . ?”

“Trying not to kill them both,” she answers bluntly.

I think I understand. She was removing herself from the situation.

“Walking alone through the dark alleys wasn’t the mostbrilliantidea, though,” I say.

“Actually, it was. You see, murder for me is not a sick craving to satisfy my bloodlust. It’s an almost involuntary reaction to fury. My wild fits of rage are rash. Destructive. And chasing an adrenaline-fueled high in the absence of a kill is the only way to calm my nerves.”

“You willingly put yourself in danger to spare that fucking asshole?” I seethe between clenched teeth.

She has no response to that. Just stares at me as the dying embers of the fire sparkle over her features.

“When we return home, I’ll take him out for you.”

“Y-you would do that? For me?” She’s taken aback, gaze wide and starry-eyed.

I nod, the words somehow too heavy to be spoken. Admission of my possessiveness over her is too difficult. But it’s here, scratching beneath the surface, begging to crowd her against the wall completely and fuck her yet again.

“He’s not worth the muscle strain. Once the divorce is done, he’ll be out of my life,” she says. “Then he can live happily ever after with myformerbest friend while I mind my own business far away from them.”

“He fucked your best friend?” That is low.

She nods, a hint of sadness clouding her gaze.

“He didn’t just fuck her. He had an affair. Someone like me doesn’t make friends easily. But she and I clicked long ago, when we were teenagers. Anyway, it’s all dust in the wind now.”

It isn’t, though. The hurt still brims in her eyes, her emotions a pain-filled shield she’s throwing around her.

“Why isn’t he granting you the divorce?” I ask.

Rolling her eyes, she sighs. “He’s blackmailing me.”