Page 32 of Carved Obsession (The Sanctum Syndicate #4)

Carter

If it wasn’t for the sharpness in the hitch of my breath, the slight ache in my chest, and the strain in the widening of my eyes, I wouldn’t be able to accept the shock rippling through me right now.

Pure, untainted shock.

I didn’t miss the moment threads of fear filtered through her pretty eyes. Mere heartbeats after delightful beats of panic vibrated through her pulse, straight into my touch.

But neither of those visceral feelings looks back at me now.

Delight. Pure and utter delight shines in a maniacal grin that brightens every feature of her stunning face. Except her eyes. They darken with a powerful need I’m convinced I’m the first to satisfy.

I don’t know what to do with this. I’ve never seen such satisfaction in response to pain. To the promise of punishment and the prospect of death. It’s only ever been play. A game.

But Scarlet knows death is something I can certainly deliver, and though I’ve promised I would spare her now, the fact that I’m capable of it seems enough.

Yet here she is...pulse slowing beneath my touch, skin wet and hot against mine, one soft, delicate hand making my cock harder than I think I’ve ever been. Like a pathetic, lovesick puppy, I can’t stop gawking at her.

On this perilous precipice she’s drawing pleasure from, malice sharpening her soft features, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

The only beautiful thing I ever want to see again.

Though, I have a feeling nothing will ever compare from now on.

Scarlet is ruining me .

The maniacal grin begins to falter as the sparkle in her eyes dims ever so slightly, her hand on my length easing its grip. But I want to capture this moment fully. Imprint it on my skin. Learn its flavor and remember it forever.

So, I do.

I descend onto her with the same force as this punishing storm, crushing my mouth to hers like her flavor could escape me if I didn’t. Lips soften as the shock makes way for indulgence, and they draw me in like sirens at sea.

Goddamn it, she’s exquisite.

She tastes of everything I’ve ever enjoyed and nothing I’ve ever encountered, all at once. Wildflowers in bloom and destruction bred from fire. She tastes like she’s the end of all I’ve known and the beginning of my new favorite experience. Honey and spice layered beautifully.

Her lips part fully, letting me in when I release her throat, and she draws in a deep breath like she pulls the life force directly from my lungs. She presses against me, greedily demanding more, tongues clashing as we explore each other with vicious need.

Scarlet’s moan trembles against my lips, my tongue, and yanks an unfamiliar, foreign growl from deep within my chest. It’s charged with a need and ardor never before heard in my voice.

My cock strains heavily against the seam of my trousers, and I rip Scarlet’s hand away, ignoring her disappointed plea as I grab her ass and yank her upward.

She takes but a moment before she catches on and throws her legs around my hips.

The wanton cry that spills from her lips tastes so fucking sweet, my knees threaten to buckle.

My cock nestles against that warm spot between her inviting thighs, lined up so perfectly with the covered seam of her pussy.

She grinds against me, seeking pleasure with delightful desperation.

Hooking her free arm around my neck, she pulls me harder against her before she breaks our kiss to let words pass.

“If I knew earlier this is how you punish...” She trails off as she strokes my tongue with hers, lips clashing in a wild, hypnotic kiss.

It’s not how I punish, but it’s certainly a punishment.

Only, it’s me at the receiving end, because this is not enough.

I want every single bit of her aligned with me.

Her naked skin against mine, my lips on her softness, her softness on every inch of my body.

And the worst thing is...I never want it to end.

Ever.

But it has to. Right?

There will come a time when she realizes that my darkness is too devoid of stars for her.

I can’t learn to be around her. I can’t allow myself to get used to her.

Because she’ll leave.

But I certainly can indulge.

“Grind on my cock like that, kitten, and you’ll learn just how far off from punishment this is.” I break the kiss, licking the raindrops off her lips between every other word.

“I think you’re all talk, killer-boy. A pretty mouth that spills sweet promises it can’t deliver.”

My body stills, muscles straining under the wet clothes, yet my cock hardens even more than I thought possible at the blatant challenge. The gall of this woman. The women I play with would never. The cane would meet their ass, their thighs.

But Scarlet is not a woman I play with. She doesn’t know the rules. If she ever finds herself strapped to one of my benches, I’m afraid the rules will go out the window and a line I’ve never crossed will turn to ash.

What if, though . . .

I release her wrist, drawing my palm down to her ribs, thumb dangerously close to her breast.

“You’re making one dire mistake,” I say, grinding my cock against her pussy.

A strained moan escapes her, taking control as she rolls her hips, seeking more pleasure. I oblige, pressing my aching hardness onto her, pumping my hips as she feeds off of this chaste pleasure.

“Punishment is not bred only of agony, kitten.” I dip in, gently scraping my teeth over the crook of her neck, licking my way to the sensitive spot behind her ear before I bite and suck as she shudders in bliss. “Sometimes, it’s born of the deprivation of pleasure.”

I drop Scarlet back on her feet and peel myself away from her awfully inviting body.

Even in this faint moonlight, I can see the heavy raindrops slipping through the angry crease formed between her brows, dropping off of her parted lips as she regards me in utter outrage.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” she murmurs.

“Come on now. We need to find the cabin.”

I don’t even bother to acknowledge her shock, no matter how hard my cock is or how twitchy my fingers are to find that soft, warm spot between her thighs.

“Don’t you fucking walk away from me, Carter Pierce!” she yells, then grabs my wrist, yanking me backward. Or attempting to.

I halt and look over my shoulder. “Don’t be a brat, Scarlet.”

“I’m not a damn brat! I just can’t believe you just—” She’s smoldering so beautifully. “Finish what you started, killer-boy.”

“You’re not used to being denied what you want, are you? Grew up a bit too spoiled, kitten?”

She stops dead in her tracks, tightening her grip until my wrist bone screams at me in a heated ache and she rips her hand away. The outrage is completely wiped off of her features as she fixes me with an irritated, fiery gaze.

“Don’t you dare speak of my upbringing like you know anything about it.” She’s seething, her entire stance tensing with words clearly heavy with more than just memories.

Frowning, I cock my head, studying her demeanor and reaction. She’s not just upset—she looks almost haunted by fresh ghosts of her past—and the need to figure her out grows to a dangerous level. Something happened to her.

Embers sizzle behind my ribs, and an aching hollowness strains in the pit of my stomach. As I try to decipher those odd sensations, another more disturbing involuntary reaction follows—a threatening rumble, deep in my chest. Close to the same spot where Scarlet’s essence seems to be settling in.

What the fuck was that?

I’m fighting the urge to trap her, peel off all those layers, and find out what happened to her and who hurt her. My thoughts are interrupted by her shadow flying past me.

“You coming?” she all but growls, already a few steps ahead.

“You’re going the wrong way,” I call out, proceeding to walk in the right direction.

I hear her follow, but I don’t turn. As much as the bratty behavior intrigues me, I’m fucking soaked, caked in mud, and cold. And we’re just over halfway to the cabin. It better have a damn roof.

Scarlet pops up next to me, falling into step. I glance down at where my jacket is tied around her waist, but in this lack of light, it’s impossible to tell how much blood soaks it. We need to get to that cabin as soon as possible. Though a fucking hospital would have been better.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” Her answer is clipped. Cold.

I frown, turning my full attention to her. “I mean your...” I point to the spot where she’s wounded.

She turns frazzled, wrapping her arms around herself as she avoids eye contact and focuses forward.

“Like I said, fine.” Her tone brightens, but there’s something slightly off about it. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna cry about it.”

Clearly.

We walk in silence the rest of the way there. Mainly out of necessity, since the storm thickens. Water bashes us with the help of the intensifying wind, filling our mouths with water every time we try to speak, but I don’t miss the stolen glances, just as she doesn’t miss mine.

I wish I could find out what’s going through her head. If I ask, she’ll probably just glare at me, but I have so many questions. About her. What she stole tonight. What her father did with it. If this is a regular occurrence. What she does for a living. Why she fucked with me. And so much more.

All those questions will have to wait.

“There!” she screeches. She leaps toward the cabin, which appears in a clearing barely bigger than it.

It’s a small wooden building, slightly crooked, with only one window on this side next to its old, slanted door. The glass is still there, though, and that’s a good sign for now.

“Scarlet! Stop!” My sharp, guttural shout cuts through the heavy downpour as I rush toward her, managing to block her way into the cabin. “Stay here.”

“What? Why?” she asks, frowning. She recoils slightly as my stern gaze lands on hers.

“I’ll check it out first.”