Page 42 of Carved Obsession (The Sanctum Syndicate #4)

Carter

I grab the waters and straws I ordered when she was in the bathroom, then follow Scarlet through the club. Her alluring hips swing as she walks toward the playroom we booked. At this point, I don’t even care where she leads me. I’ll probably follow, regardless.

How well this kitten played me since we met in that dark alley. The extent of her game became clear to me as she carefully stepped down the stairs into the club. She looked exquisite in the outfit I purchased for her, but it’s the mask that clued me in.

I’ve seen her before. Even had her in my arms once when she tripped as she walked by me. She was stunning, sinful body chaste in that modest dress, but it wasn’t what attracted me to her. Her scent did. So intriguing. So...tortuously familiar.

Now I know why.

I follow her without a second thought, the creature lurking beneath my surface trying to claw out and snap at all the men drooling over her as she passes them.

I’ll fill Scarlet with my cum until it drips on her thighs and the corner of her fucking lips so that every single goddamn man in this club can smell me on her and know that she. Is. Mine!

Too many eyes watch us as we stop by the playroom door. They eagerly wait for us to go inside so they can crowd by the window. They know me. They’ve seen me here before. But they haven’t seen Scarlet, and they’ve had their greedy eyes on her since the moment she stepped foot down those stairs.

I have a feeling she’s about to erase my memories of the other women who’ve been in this position before her.

Surprisingly, that thought doesn’t put me off.

I open the door for her and let her pass before I shut it behind me, observing her calculated steps as she clutches her fingers and fails to mask her evident nervousness. People outside already move before the window, but I grab the small remote and press the button to close the curtains. For now.

Silence falls without their loud stares as I turn to Scarlet.

Goddamn, she’s fucking ravishing, and my mouth goes dry in an instant. I stalk toward her, circling her waist, palm splayed on the bare middle of her back, sensing the instant goosebumps that bloom beneath it.

“You make this dress look like the most precious, expensive of gowns.” I pull her against me, running my hand up her spine, reveling in her shiver.

“It’s a beautiful dress . . .”

I shake my head. “No. You are beautiful, Scarlet.”

“Thank you.” She almost whispers her reply, and I wonder if there’s a blush on her cheeks behind the mask.

“Now...” I let go, pacing around her, pretending to plan an attack I’ve mapped out in my mind already. I stop behind her, brushing the hair away from her neck, and plant a chaste kiss right there. “What do you want from me tonight, love?”

Her breasts rise and fall on heavy breaths, head dropping slightly to the side, and I accept the invite, swiping my tongue over that sensitive skin.

“Make me hurt.”

I stop, waiting for something else to follow. Laughter, maybe.

“Teach me a lesson,” she adds.

“I’m not sure you know what you’re asking for.”

She turns to me, standing so close that her heat warms me as she pins me with her mask-shadowed gaze. “Punish me,” she whispers.

I step away, putting much needed space between us as heat floods my chest. That request uses the same words I’ve heard from others before, yet they’re inherently different.

This is a challenge wrapped in quiet desperation, and the visceral need in those words seems to speak directly to the creature beneath my flesh.

Scarlet closes the distance between us once more.

“All of you...” In a hushed tone, she repeats the same words she texted to me earlier.

Cracking my neck from side to side, I straighten with the shiver that runs up my spine, then walk toward the wall that holds so many instruments to choose from. I don’t linger, knowing exactly what I want to go for—the spreader bar. At least for her ankles.

I can feel her eyes on me as I set up; she’s trying to figure out what I have planned for her.

“Come here.”

She moves quickly, following my cues as I strap her wrists to the chain fixed to the ceiling, her arms extended high above her head.

“You don’t want rules.” I don’t ask, just confirm as I fix the spreader bar to the floor, adjusting it to her, but I don’t strap her in yet.

“This is not BDSM, Carter. We both know it.”

“Why?” I step away to admire her there.

“Does it matter?” She shifts her weight from one leg to the other.

I suppose it doesn’t. But I want to know. She had very few hard limits, which makes me even more curious about those she does have.

Lifting the remote, I turn to her. “Have they watched you before?”

She shakes her head, that trace of shyness brightening her gaze.

“Use your words, kitten.”

“No.”

“Have you played here before?” Something twists in my stomach as I ask the question.

“Never.”

Relief cools my insides; I won’t have to build a list of men to kill.

Cocking my head, I ask an even more important question. “Have you played...ever?”

She hesitates, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“Words, Scarlet.”

“No.”

Fuck me sideways. And she wants me to destroy her. No rules. No holding back.

What the fuck?

“Don’t you dare pussy out on me,” she warns, head tilting down as her menacing gaze bores into me.

“You’re in no position to order me around.” My blood boils as I close the distance, slap her thigh, and revel in her yelp. “Now keep your mouth shut, little slut, unless you want to scream, answer my questions, or speak your safe word.”

“Yes,” she whimpers.

“Yes?”

“Sir.”

Good fucking girl.

“Curtains open or closed?” I ask.

“Whatever you wish.”

I walk to the window and stop. “Do you want to see yourself, or them?”

“Whatever you wish,” she repeats. How annoying.

Out of spite, I open the curtains as they are, mirror deactivated. The crowd hasn’t left. More have joined, and they stare at Scarlet like she’s fucking dessert, even though their evening is just starting.

I walk around, stopping behind her, close enough to hear her ragged breaths. This is definitely not BDSM. If it was, we would thrive on comfort, even if discomfort was the sub’s request. We would thrive on rules, prior approvals, and mountains of consent. Normally, I would ask her if she was ready.

Not now.

I pull on the small ribbon behind her neck, watching the crowd as the dress falls and gathers on her hips.

I enjoy their approving gazes as Scarlet’s breath hitches.

Then I walk to the wall and table that hold the myriad toys, turning to admire her in the teddy I got her.

My mouth fucking waters, but I pause when my gaze falls on the small, thin bandage on the side of her abdomen.

I didn’t forget, but with the brutal requests she’s making, it feels like she has.

She said she’s fine, but I have to keep an even closer eye on her.

“Have I told you I have a thing for stretching?” It’s a rhetorical question. I know I haven’t.

I pick up the inflatable dildo to see if she squirms. She doesn’t.

Maybe the pastel-colored tentacle toy? She tenses but looks more intrigued than apprehensive.

Putting it down, I go for what I wanted in the first place—the thigh-strapped pussy spreader.

She attempts to close her legs, and I know I have a winner.

The next thing I grab is the metal cat-claw scratcher I thoroughly enjoy. I slide it over my middle finger, testing it on my palm to ensure it’s the right sharpness without cutting through.

I show her the spreader, giving her one more opportunity to think twice about this. She doesn’t say a thing, and I’m both disappointed and excited all at once. I pull gently on her dress, watching it pool on the floor at her feet.

She’s fucking gorgeous, and seeing those pussy lips peeking through the crotchless panties makes me fucking hard. I grab the dress, take it to the leather bench, then walk back, circling her like she’s prey. Beautifully exposed without being fully naked, she makes the lace teddy look stunning.

In the past, the women I brought here stripped completely, but I couldn’t bring myself to request this of Scarlet. I’m telling myself that it’s for her comfort, but...it might be for mine.

I adjust the room’s color temperature to a warm, comforting glow, then turn on music using the tablet on the table. A sultry song starts, and I watch in delight as Scarlet squirms in her bindings.

“I think it’s time, kitten,” I say as I swipe my metal-clawed finger down her cleavage, leaving a pink weal down her chest.

The first of many.

I drop down on one knee, face to face with her sweet, beautiful cunt. I allow myself one extra second before I strap her ankles to the spreader bar. A grin threatens to pull at my cheeks; she can’t fucking move—can barely protest. She’s fully at my mercy.

With each of my movements, her breathing becomes more labored, her gaze filled with nervous, impatient energy. She licks her lips like all the water in her body pools in one specific spot, draining her. Her pretty cunt is already wet. I can fucking see it.

With her eyes trained on me, I suck two fingers between my lips, then glide them through the slick seam of her pussy, enjoying her muted gasp. Once more, I tease her, dragging those digits over her entrance but never entering her, even as she squirms for it.

Perfect.

I pluck from my pocket one of the leather-strapped spreader clamp sets, and her lips part in slight shock when I gently pinch the top side of her right labia and fit one of the clamps on it.

I check the tightness and gently adjust before I circle the strap around her thigh and repeat the action further down.

I adjust the strap until one side of her core is beautifully spread, then grab the other clamp set, fit it on her left labia and around her thigh, and spread her core until she’s fully open.