Page 23 of Carved Obsession (The Sanctum Syndicate #4)

I think his scent got to my head.

“Hello, Scarlet.” A sly smirk ghosts across his lips, and I think I’m melting. Just a little.

Who am I kidding? I’m at the brink of becoming nothing more than a puddle.

He dips down before I get a chance to greet him, and I’m fucking startled silly when his nose slides over that sensitive spot where my ear meets my jaw. The gentle touch rips an embarrassing giggle out of me.

It freaking tickles.

For one brief moment, he stalls.

Only one, devoid of breath and heartbeats, before he presses his lips there.

The tickle dissipates completely, heat pooling low in my belly, a shiver breaking over my skin as my muscles seize. When he rises, I’m pretty sure all the air in the world is sucked out, because there’s none in my damn lungs.

What the hell just happened?

“I know we were supposed to meet at my place, but I thought I would pick you up instead, love.”

His place . . . pick me—love?

My brain is short-circuiting.

“Oh my god, you’re . . .” Ariana gasps.

I quickly recover, leaning into him as I plaster my most charming smile on my lips. “Always so thoughtful, baby. Thank you.”

It’s not hard work. At all. Not when he looks at me like he’s putting no effort into this. It comes all too naturally.

His gaze flickers down to my hand, and every muscle in his face and throat tightens at once.

I follow his line of sight, noticing the angry red darkening around my wrist. For fuck’s sake, now I need to get that checked out.

“I’m okay,” I wrap my arm around his waist and hold him to me.

He doesn’t recoil. Doesn’t stiffen. He already holds me near enough to him that I couldn’t possibly tug him any closer.

His icy, furious stare finds mine again, but there’s no threat.

Not directed at me, anyway. Right there, in that peering blue inside the hazel of his eyes, there is softness bred of possessiveness.

It’s all mine, and I’m not even sure he knows it’s there.

“Now, love, please introduce me to the man who dared lay a fucking finger on you.” He turns his menacing attention on Bernard, and I hear a shift before me.

I almost forgot he was there.

“Right, yes. This is Bernard Camora, my ex-husband,” I say, noticing Ariana’s gaze roaming all over Carter.

I wanna clock her right in the fucking face just for daring to admire him.

“Not ex. I am your husband,” the asshole contends.

Excuse me? Is he whipping his dick out? This isn’t a fucking pissing contest.

I turn to him, ready to make a nasty remark, but falter when his foul expression makes me smirk. His face seems almost red, his gaze switching between Carter and me. If we’re comparing, Carter fucking won. He’s taller, gorgeous, richer, and so much more powerful.

And right now . . . he’s pretending to be mine. Fucking delightful.

“If Scarlet says ex, you are her ex.” Carter replies before I bother to, and something swells not just in my belly, but in my damn soul too.

Settle. He’s acting . . . just acting.

“And who might you be?” Bernard sounds bitter, fitting his sullen look. If he’s not careful, one might mistake that for jealousy.

“Carter Pierce,” he says.

His name alone is enough explanation. The confidence he exudes is nothing short of insanity. Yet, it works.

“And you are with... her?” Ariana asks, pointing up and down my body like I’m the ugly duckling that could never snag a man like Carter. I can’t help feeling just a tad inferior.

Bernard narrows his eyes, and ever so slowly, something akin to recognition seeps through. He blinks a few times, then pulls his shoulders back as he crosses his arms, and I have a feeling he’s about to dig his own grave just by his expression.

“Look, no offense pal—”

Oh, here we go.

“Scarlet and I have private business to discuss. So, if you don’t mind...”

Does he have a death wish?

I can’t exhale as I look up at Carter to see how that indignation landed. He cocks his head, hand tightening around my waist as he nestles me deeper into him. Okay, that’s...surprisingly nice. Warm. Comforting.

“I mind.” He leaves no space for argument. “I don’t take lightly another man touching what is mine.”

My heart stalls beneath my ribs, goosebumps spreading over my skin as his last word echoes through my thoughts in that growling voice.

Calm down, Scarlet, he’s only pretending.

“But hurting her? Marking her skin?” Carter continues, shaking his head at such a slow, torturous pace. Violent threats lie in the wake of each movement. “That has dire consequences.”

Bernard scoffs, but his gaze becomes unsettled. “Consequen—”

“I’m not done.” Carter’s tone turns to gravel as it darkens, and he takes one small step forward, guiding me with him. “I know you are aware of who I am. You’ve also heard rumors. Correct?”

My ex purses his lips, indignation way too clear in his eyes as his nostrils flare. He’s aware.

“Let me clear them up for you—they are wrong. Who I am, what I do, is much worse than any rumor that graced your ears. I don’t plan on wasting my time with you. As it stands, you are insignificant. However—”

I’m pulled forward once again, his chest only a foot away from Bernard as he looks down at him.

“If even the tip of your finger grazes a single hair on Scarlet’s body ever again, I won’t just give you a glimpse into what I do.

I will make you my masterpiece. I will carve you, Camora.

So slowly, your screams will last for hours on end.

They will imprint into my mind, and turn into a haunting.

And I’ll use them as my motherfucking lullaby every single night to soothe me to sleep. ”

Fuck me . . .

Gorgeously perfect. And Bernard is close to shaking. Hell, I am too.

I wanted this man before, but now? Now I’ll raze anything standing in my way.

“I’ll speak to you soon, Scarlet,” my ex says.

“You’re not getting what you want, Bernard. And it would be prudent to return what you stole,” I say.

His brows knit together in a menacing promise that makes me uneasy. If he truly goes to Anders, the former owner of the Levain pendant and a major player in the West Coast mafia, Dad and Carmen are dead.

The fact that he’s threatening them, not me, pisses me off even more. He knows I care more for their safety than mine. But if he thinks he can do that and still get what he wants, then he truly is an idiot.

Bernard turns around, dragging Ariana with him, and walks away. Slowly. Sneaking angry looks behind him.

In one swift motion, Carter turns, crushing me against his front as I gasp and grab onto his waist. I don’t need to steady myself; he holds me tight enough with just that one hand splayed over the small of my back. So tight. And so very close.

I can’t help but acknowledge every single part of me pressed against each part of him. His strong abdomen against the butterflies in my stomach. My perked nipples against his taut torso. His hardening cock against my belly and the fire growing there.

“You know, I can stand up for myself,” I all but whisper, growing hotter under his intense gaze.

He tilts his head, throwing a brief, nonchalant look toward Bernard and Ariana. A faint trace of a smirk wrinkles his cheek as he dips down. “I thought I did a much better job.”

The world grows silent as his soft, warm lips brush against my cheek. So close to my ear, lightning bursts down the side of my neck and straight between my thighs like liquid thunder.

“You’re a great actor, killer-boy. But the gig has ended.”

My voice was supposed to sound antagonistic. Sarcastic, even. Instead, it’s breathy, drowned in lust and desperate desire.

His lips burn a path across my cheek, and I suck in a wanton breath as he reaches dangerously close to the corner of my mouth.

“Has it?” he says. “They’re still watching.”

Then, I hope they never stop.

Carter presses a soft, almost sensual, uncharacteristic kiss to that spot not quite at the corner of my lips, and nothing could have fucking stopped the moan that spilled from between them.

A rumbling growl vibrates through his throat in response, and a breath catches in mine when his hand grabs it, holding me firmly in place. It’s as if he’s simultaneously keeping me from running away and from moving any closer. And I oblige, relaxing into the possessiveness of his grip.

“Since they’re watching . . .” I whisper.

I run my hands over his back, one going between the shoulder blades, but the other... Well, we have to make it believable, right? I slide it right down over his ass, and swallow down a groan at the tight mass I’m met with there.

His grip on my throat tightens, and pressure grows at the back of it. But fuck me, because it pools right between my thighs.

This is amazing!

“What do you think you’re doing?” He brushes his lips against my cheek one last time before he rises, his eyes regarding me with cold curiosity.

“Making it believable.” I give his ass cheek a good squeeze and a playful tap, a grin pulling at my cheeks when he cocks his brow.

He throws another look Bernard’s way, then, just as quickly as he came onto me, he lets go and takes a step back.

My body already misses the feel of his.

But his absence makes way for that cold-stoned anger brought on by Bernard and Ariana to come back. The reckless kind I learned to harness and focus.

Bernard crossed a line today. I could have handled his attempted blackmail when it was directed at me only, but what he just pulled is one step too fucking far.

He will pay for his goddamn sin.

But I need to clear my head so I can plan this retribution. And I have something prepared just perfect for the job.

“See you later, killer-boy.” I turn, rushing toward my car.

“Wait!” he calls after me, but I’m already too far away.

I look over my shoulder as I weave between the people on the sidewalk. “No time, boyfriend. I have things to do.”

People to kill.