Page 52 of Carved Obsession (The Sanctum Syndicate #4)

Scarlet

“I stand by what I said when I wanted to crawl under the covers and die—Tabitha would look fucking fantastic in the middle of your church.” I walk through the expansive space as Carter flips various switches and bathes the converted holy ground in an ethereal light.

“Tabitha?” He cocks an eyebrow in amusement.

“I didn’t tell you she has a name, did I?”

He shakes his head as he walks into the kitchen area, and my feet follow without question. “So, you like to name things.”

“Only things I love,” I point out, popping the velvet box that holds the Levain pendant onto the counter.

“What else have you named?” he asks as he pulls out bottles and pours various things into a shaker.

“Christ, what haven’t I? I have some fossils that I love, a couple of skulls that were my first—Margaret and Daisy—and one of my favorites is Marvin.”

Carter bursts out into the purest laughter, so uncharacteristic, and it does something magical to my insides.

“Marvin?” He turns to me, pressing a hand to his stomach.

“Yup. He’s a little white mouse I keep on my dressing table. Stop laughing at him. He’s adorable.”

“Oh, I know Marvin.”

I frown, but a moment later, I remember what a stalker Carter is. “Just how much of my house did you inspect?”

“Enough to know you have a thing for bones and strange things. And I didn’t know then, but apparently, human tears too.”

“And you have a problem with that?” I cross my arms over my chest, cocking an eyebrow as he comes to me, attempting to hand me a drink.

“Not a one, kitten. It makes me want to crack my way into your mind to figure out what other surprises lie there.”

“And I’m the weird one,” I mutter as I grab the drink and follow him out.

“Your words, not mine. Now, I have to check a few things in my office. You can go ahead and snoop around or join me there.”

“Oh, don’t worry, killer-boy, I’ve done my share of snooping around your place too,” I say with a wide grin that seems to please him. “I could do with some more, but right now, I want to celebrate my fucking freedom from that asshole. I’m joining you.”

With a devastating quirk in his lips, he wraps his hand around my waist and pulls me into his body.

“You may be free of him, love, but you’re all mine,” he claims in a husky voice that ripples dangerously through me, and I can’t help but melt into his body.

He kisses me until I’m out of breath, then moves away, just as my thoughts stray in a sadder direction. Eventually, I’ll have to tell him why he might not really want me...but for now, I’m going to be an asshole and enjoy this moment.

Carter sits on his intricate chair, his office resembling something from a government facility, with all the screens and gadgets. Though, it’s quite cozy here too, with the deep armchair in the corner and the ancient brick walls.

Cameras pop onto the screen. I recognize some places, and others, I’ve seen only in my research of Carter.

He doesn’t ignore me. Instead, he keeps my excitement going, discussing the cheesy idea of a divorce shower with a few friends.

Just like those bridal showers some people get, only I’m gonna be celebrating my fantastic, albeit bloody, separation.

From pacing to cozying up in the armchair to more pacing, I eventually perch on his thigh. He cycles through all those cameras, accessing past footage too, seemingly satisfied with his findings. Or lack thereof, I guess.

“Almost done, love. With Duval around, and the move we made on him, we’re expecting retaliation.”

“I thought you have a team of tech people who handles this stuff.”

“Yes, we do, but the situation is so charged now. I would rather be the extra pair of eyes.”

Most leaders would delegate and wipe their hands of the problem. I appreciate this difference.

“What’s that folder?” I point to a lonely icon named “S” on one of the screens.

Carter pauses, mouse stuck in the middle of the image, his body going slightly rigid beneath me. He drags the cursor to the file and double-clicks the folder, and I lean over, my ass sliding deeper into his lap as I attempt to distinguish the images in the small thumbnails.

“No fucking way!” I exclaim. “That’s my fucking bedroom!” I whip my head around, meeting his gaze.

The slightest tinge of guilt meets me, but it’s not enough for him to actually look like he’s sorry.

“You have a camera in my bedroom, Carter?”

He nods, lips tugging into a suggestive grin. “And I don’t intend on taking it out.”

“But . . . I do stuff in there.”

“Oh, I know.” He raises his brows. I didn’t know his face was capable of that.

“I didn’t mean that . I meant...girl stuff. You can’t—Wait, what?” I recoil, but he wraps his arm around my middle, tugging me against him. I’m fully seated now, feet off the ground.

He opens one video, and I’m stunned into silence as I watch myself drop the towel after coming out of the shower, happily naked without knowing he was stalking me.

In another video, I’m simply sleeping. Peaceful.

Oblivious. And in the third one...I’m splayed on my bed, legs bent and open wide, my hand deep between my thighs, fingers sunk deep inside my core.

My mouth drops open, yet I can’t get any words out.

Holy hell, he’s been watching me get myself off. Right here...in this office. And he saved the footage.

I’m astonished. Slightly appalled. And . . . turned on.

My hips involuntarily adjust on his lap, moisture gathering between my thighs, right in that spot that presses against the growing bulge beneath it.

With his hand around my belly, he holds me firmly as he flexes upward, and the slightest whimper escapes my throat when his cock puts just the right amount of pressure on my sex.

“Do you like that, kitten?”

I lean into his whisper, pressing my back to his front and leaning my head against his shoulder. His warmth is addicting. His touch even more so, as he slides his hand over my stomach until he reaches my breast, massaging it with a deliciously firm touch.

“Yes . . .” I answer.

“Look at yourself. Look how fucking hypnotizing you are as you drive your fingers into your addictive little cunt.” He pinches my nipple through the fabric, rolling it between his fingers.

Logically, I know I should feel an ache, a slight pain, or maybe a deeper one, but I’m overcome with longing instead. An intense need to feel him do to me what I’m doing to myself on that screen.

“Such a beautiful little slut you are, putting on such a magnificent show without even knowing.” He captures my earlobe between his teeth, sucking it into his mouth before he swipes his tongue over the edge and plants shivers and goosebumps all over my flesh.

“I didn’t know . . .” I moan.

“Yet, you wanted it to be me. Didn’t you? Look how fucking wet you got for me. Whimpering my name under your breath like you were praying I would appear out of the shadows and fuck you senseless.”

Reaching under my blouse, he tugs down my bra and captures my breast in his large palm, kneading it into a bundle of pleasure as his other hand finds the heat between my legs.

I roll my hips against his bulge as he rubs the pad of his palm over the fabric covering that heated part of me, threatening to drive me wild.

“Play the next video, my filthy little girl.”

Clumsily, I slap my hand on the desk and find the mouse, then skip to the next video.

“Oh, god,” I whisper as he applies more pressure to my clit.

“Look how soundly you sleep as I stand right next to you. It was such a delightful surprise to find out you slept naked.”

Heat pools between my legs, and I wonder just how fucked up in the head I am to find a video of me sleeping while the man who touches me right now stands next to my bed. Watching me. And...oh god, he reaches over, touching my skin, hooking his finger on the edge of the sheet and...

“Carter,” I whimper as he slides his hand beneath the hem of my sweatpants to find the sopping mess.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

I nod erratically, unable to take my eyes off of the screen. But then the video ends with him turning away.

“Y-you stopped.”

“I did.”

“Why? Oh god.” I grind my aching core against his hard length, seeking the pressure that drives me wild. “Why didn’t you do it? Touch me? Stroke me? Fuck me?”

Fingers sliding down further, he finds that warm part of me that weeps only for him and circles my clit with just the right speed to turn me into a whimpering mess.

“I wanted to, so fucking bad,” he groans into my ear.

“But...?” I ask as I lift my ass so he can lower my sweatpants.

As he slides two long fingers through my folds, his thumb bears down on the sensitive bundle of nerves. A hoarse moan rips through my throat as he enters me. He pulls out, repeating the motion until the sopping sounds urge him to slip a third finger in.

“A question slipped through my mind.” His breaths come fast, matching mine. “What if you would have hated me for it? If I did that to you, what if you never allowed me to touch you again?”

I wouldn’t have hated him, but I appreciate him more for this logic.

He finger fucks me faster, his strokes punishing in their lustful viciousness, and I prop my knees against the edge of his desk, needing the leverage.

“Tell me what you want, kitten,” he orders in his smoky tone I dream of too often.

But my mouth is filled to the brim with moans and soft, needy breaths. There’s no space for words to form in a rational order.

A wanton cry rips from my throat when he pulls out his fingers, but my protest is shattered when the cruel man slaps my pussy into obedience. I jump out of my skin, but I’m ready to grab his hand and shove his fingers back inside of me, because...God fucking damn it, that was hot.

“Answer me, Scarlet.”

He smacks my aching core once more, and the words spill out of my mouth without one ounce of my brain involved.

“Make me come, Carter! Drench every single inch of this goddamn desk with my pleasure! And when you’re done, I want your magnificent cock down my throat.”