Page 44 of Carved Obsession (The Sanctum Syndicate #4)

Scarlet

I didn’t know what I would feel once I finally revealed to him what is both my strength and my weakness. Turns out, it’s relief.

Only, as Carter clutches the wheel, driving us away from Metamorphosis, he looks anything but relieved. He’s sterner and stiller than usual, his gaze cold and penetrating.

In an instant, I deflate when the reason for his cold demeanor crosses my mind—his desire is to inflict pain. He draws pleasure from it. And I can’t offer him that.

And it’s not the only thing I can’t offer him...

He probably feels cheated, led on.

“Look, I’m sorry. I know I’m not what you expected or wanted.

It was something I needed to explore, even knowing that I would never feel what I was supposed to.

But I wanted to see if I could feel its impact differently, maybe in thrill, emotions, or.

..fuck. I don’t know. I just knew I wouldn’t trust anyone but you to explore this with.

I’m sorry I led you on and disappointed you,” I blurt out in one breath.

I’m pressed back in my seat as he slams his foot on the gas, driving furiously toward the outskirts of Queenscove.

“Jeez, no need to kill me. Just drop me off and you won’t have to deal with me again,” I say, rolling my eyes. But disappointment and regret riddle me.

His hand lands on my thigh in a bruising grip, pulling my attention to him. “I’m taking you to your house because I know you’ll be more comfortable in your own space after tonight. Otherwise, I wouldn’t hesitate to take you to mine and never fucking let you go. Ever.”

My eyes bulge. Is he for real?

“But I can’t be what you want, Carter.”

“And what do you think I want?” he asks.

“Someone who can play with you and give you what you need—pain. Physical and mental reactions to it. I will never be that.”

He shakes his head, driving like a madman through the quieter streets as we near the outskirts. “No. You will never be that.”

His words hit me straight in the chest.

“Because you are different. So much more than all the women before you.”

Umm . . . what?

“You think you’re not what I need, but you are exactly that.

My life, this game, has become repetitive.

Dull. But you, kitten, you revived it all.

You throw me off my game completely. You intrigue me.

You have no limit. Well, you do, but I can’t tell what it is, and now I have to be the one to find it for you.

You’ve made everything so much more interesting than I ever thought it could be. ”

Christ, this is dangerous. So fucking dangerous. Because his words imply so much permanence between us. A constant, recurring presence in each other’s lives, long-term. And it fucking terrifies me.

“Then why do you look so mad about it all?” I ask.

“Because I could have hurt you badly. Much more than I ever intended, and neither of us would have had any idea. Fuck, Scarlet, it could have been really bad if I didn’t notice that something was off.”

“So...you’re mad because you could have hurt me, in a scenario where the intention was exactly that.”

Tires screech as the car comes to a stop in front of my gate. When the hell did we cross all this distance? He waits for me to press in a code, then drives in. The metal gate closes behind us.

“Hurt, Scarlet, not maim. Not permanently damage. Not. Fucking. Kill. ” He parks next to my house. He kills the engine, climbs out of the car, and walks to my side before I get a chance to react.

As he opens the door and guides me out, his words linger in the air between us.

“You’re not an enemy I was looking to torture, regardless of the punishment you told me you wanted,” he says. “Whatever I was doing to you, it’s meant to be pleasure bred of pain. Controlled. Enjoyable, even in its darkness.”

He walks toward my house, then stops by the front door and waits for me to unlock it before he waltzes right in like he owns the place. He doesn’t wait, doesn’t pause. He just goes straight to my living room as if he knows exactly where it is.

“Control,” I mutter, ignoring the voice in my head that screams at me to ask him why he’s so comfortable in my home when this is his first time here.

“Yes. All of this is about control.”

“Why do you do it? Go to Metamorphosis and dominate these women?”

He settles into my sofa, resting his ankle over his knee as he spreads his arms over the back of it. His eyes remain on me as I grab a joint, light up, and take a seat on the armchair to his right.

“Mental release. The silence that comes after exerting this control. In my line of work, I let loose, I carve and slice with no restrictions or consequences. But there...the restraint, the rules, the hold the subs have on me. These things give me the structure that I need after drawing so much blood and inflicting all that suffering.”

“And how do I fit in there?” I ask, drawing in a long puff of smoke.

“The control I must exert with you is exhilarating. Scarlet, you are the single most intriguing and coveted thing in my life now. An enigma that is all mine.”

I recoil at that last choice of words—enigma. I’ve heard that before. Not a single positive followed after.

But Carter is different. He has to be.

“Is that it? You want me because I suddenly became more interesting to you?”

“I wanted you before. You know that. Don’t twist this.” He scoots closer, leaning over and plucking the joint from my fingers. “You simply added more to that pot of desire. And not just that, but my desire to keep you safe.”

He takes a hit, sucking in slowly, and fuck me if it’s not the most seductive gesture I’ve ever seen. His head falls back as he exhales, and I realize my mouth has fallen open.

I’ve tried so hard to ignore this, but right here, in my home, where he seems to fit so very well, I can’t deny how much I want this man. Not just to fuck or play with, but...him. All of him.

I was afraid of falling, but it’s too late. I’m deep in that crevasse. What a fucking mistake this is.

What will he do when he finds out everything I can’t offer him? What I’ll never be willing to give? Would he ever be okay with just the two of us?

“Now, we’ve talked enough of pain.” He takes another puff, hands the spliff back to me, and takes my hand. “I think I owe you some pleasure.”

I can’t help the curious smile as I let him guide me through my own house, walking us out the back door that overlooks the pond. Without a second thought, he grabs a blanket out of the basket perched on the small porch and heads straight for the water.

“Carter?”

He glances at me before he gives the blanket one shake and lays it on the ground.

“You seem to be awfully familiar with my house.”

I could be on the fucking moon and there’s no way I could miss the devious grin touching his eyes.

He doesn’t grace me with an answer as he walks over to me, grabs the spliff, and takes a smoke.

Then he places it between my lips to do the same before he stubs it in the grass.

He reaches behind my neck and unties my dress for the second time tonight, helping it down after it falls to my hips.

I step out of it, and there’s no hesitation as he undoes the teddy too, taking it off, along with my shoes, and leaving me naked before him.

“You can’t distract me from your answer with my own nakedness.” I say to him.

A ghost of a smile touches his lips, and one by one, he unbuttons his waistcoat, peeling it off before he follows up with his white shirt. I don’t plan on helping at all. I sit on the blanket he laid for us and admire the excruciatingly beautiful view as I prop myself on my forearms.

When his heavily tattooed torso is revealed, my mouth goes dry.

Yet, not as fucking dry as when he unbuckles his belt.

With his eyes trained on me, he grabs the buckle and pulls the damned thing out in one swift motion.

It’s so unbearably hot that I can’t keep myself from squeezing my thighs together.

And he notices, snapping the belt in the air once, watching me flinch with a grin on his lips before he drops it on the ground.

His shoes, socks, trousers, and boxers follow only seconds later, and finally...Carter Pierce’s tattooed body is stark naked in my garden, in all his damn glory, the Jacob’s ladder on his half-hard cock on full display.

I cannot with this man. He’s too much and not enough, all at once. I want to crawl under his skin and make a home there, because I struggle to get enough of him.

“Tell me why—”

“Because I’ve been here before, kitten.” He drops to his knees on the blanket, shoving my legs open so he can situate himself between them.

“I’ve walked through your house...” He licks a path from my navel to between my breasts, continuing upward until he reaches my throat and swallows my incoming protest.

He’s been in my house?

He kisses me slowly, tongue swiping inside my mouth, pushing me to my back when I try to pull away. It’s clear this is on his terms. Once more, this man is staking his claim, only this time, his possessiveness is directed at me.

“I have watched you from the shadows of your own home,” he whispers on a ragged breath before he plunges between my lips.

“Aaah!” I cry out when his fingers glide down my wetness and push past my folds to enter me.

“Was there as you showered without one single care in the world. And you had no idea.”

The words he speaks stimulate me almost as much as his fingers. The prospect of this particular man standing in my home without my knowledge makes me sickeningly hot.

“Such a fucking stalker,” I whimper, accusing him as I buck my hips downward and seek more pleasure.

“You made me into one.” He sinks his teeth into my neck, dragging his tongue over the marks, even though all I felt was intriguing pressure.

“For how long?”

“Not long enough.” He ends the confession with a hungry kiss, demanding in every way.

When he breaks away, he slides next to me and turns me on my side so that I’m facing away from him, but before I know it, he grabs me by my waist and flips us over.

I’m lying on top of him, my back to his front as he bends his legs.

His cock rests on my pubic bone, and the warmth against my clit makes me squirm for more.

Carter’s hands roam over my body, caressing every inch of me like he’s mapping it to make sure it’s fully imprinted in his memory.

He grabs my neck, holding it without tightening his grip, and rolls my nipple between his fingers, pinching it playfully before he moves to the other one.

He takes his time when he notices me squirming, then slides his other hand down my abdomen until he reaches the empty part of me that craves him the most.

Two digits slide on either side of my clit, rubbing between my lips, ignoring my weeping center.

“Oh, Carter, please. Please fuck me!” I cry out, rolling my hips against his, urging his fingers or his cock or anything, at this point, to slide inside my aching pussy.

Though, I would prefer it if he would refresh my memory about how good his piercings feel.

“Mmm...” he growls into my ear. “You begging for me is my new favorite thing to hear.”

“Then end my suffering, please,” I plead yet again as he strokes my pussy, teasing every part of it but the one that could give me the bliss I yearn for.

He chuckles, and I melt deeper into him. That sound reaches parts of me that never lit up for anyone else before.

“This messy little pussy is already dripping at the thought of my cock pumping it full of cum.”

“Yes, it is! It’s weeping for all of you. Your fingers, your piercings, your beautiful fucking cock, just—aaah!” I end that sentence on a wanton cry as his cock impales me, piercings forcing their way in, one by one. Each one brings more bliss.

“My greedy little whore, you take me so well. Every fucking inch of my cock belongs right here, inside your eager little pussy.”

He slides in and out of me, one hand wrapped around my middle as his other caresses my breasts, taking control and fucking me on a grueling rhythm.

At this angle, each piercing on his cock rubs against that magical spot inside of me, one by one pushing me deeper into a place where desire is the air that I breathe and need dominates every fiber of my being.

His lips slide over my ear, hand squeezes my breasts, pinching my nipples as he strokes my walls. I’m completely powerless. High on pleasure. High on him.

“Your cock . . . fuck—Your piercings . . . they rub right . . .” I struggle to form the words. To get the idea out of my head.

Our bodies melt together, damp skins gliding against each other. We pant and moan in unison as he fucks me slow and deep. It’s nothing like I expected sex with the Carver to be. This is sensual. Perfectly esoteric. And utterly transcendent.

Then it turns into more.

Because as his strokes intensify, his fingers bear down on my clit, circling it rapidly, building on the pressure. High.

Fuck—too high!

It pools too low, his cock and piercings assaulting parts of me that seem to have a different effect.

“Carter—oh, fuck, you need to stop.”

But he strokes the bundle of nerves harder, putting even more pressure. My skin prickles, and my toes curl.

“I think I’m gonna—”

Pleasure collides with all my senses, gushing out of me in endless, uncontrollable streams. I’m coming. My body shakes as Carter holds me to him and ribbons of his hot cum shoot inside me, his rhythm slowing as he nurses our orgasms.

I’m just at the edge of mindless body trembling as he holds me safely to him.

“Did I just . . . ?”

“Squirt? Yes, kitten. Yes, you fucking did.” Pride laces his voice.

But I was about to ask if I peed myself. For a few moments there, that’s what I thought was going to happen.

Then ecstasy rolled in waves through me, and I swear, even my body is in disbelief that it was able to do that.

A man has never even given me an orgasm before Carter. And now...I squirted at his hands. And cock.

I’m ruined.