Feathers and Thorne Series Books 1 - 3: The Complete Collection

Chapter One

Carter

I hate it when they whimper.

It runs counter to my purpose, my pleasure. They all think the same. If they whine and plead, maybe I’ll change my mind and flip them on their backs to give them vanilla, easy sex. It’s never easy with me. I want it to hurt; I want her ass to recoil in shock and bruise when I strike it.

This one is no different than the last ones. She’s a stocky, short brunette with sleazy tattoos all over her back and shoulders. She whimpers, whines, and complains at every little movement, only fueling my ferocity in the moment. I’m trying to make right out of a long history of pain, but this cheap hookup is starting to make my dark mind find darker places.

I bring the belt down against her bare ass, feeling her tighten around my erection. She groans before leading into a gentle cry, the red welts slowly forming as I grip my designer belt tighter. I had other options, but this seemed the most effective for the moment, seeing the woman try to tame my anger.

I bring the belt down on her lower leg, just under her ass, to hear her cry out in pain. Like many others, she thinks it’s possible to tame a hungry lion. But they don’t know that a lion that doesn’t want to be tamed, won’t be, simply by pure stubbornness. I’m beyond stubborn by now; I’m pissed off.

I grip the belt wrapped around my knuckles on one hand, the other pressing into her tricolored tramp-stamp, eyeing the bruises that form in a sigh of relief. I push my cock deeper, only watching her struggle against the side of the bed more.

“Stay fucking still,” I growl, her hands flailing about as she tries to get comfortable pressed up against the foot of my bed. “Stop moving; it will only make it worse.”

“Cart—”

“Don’t say my name!”

I bring the belt down again, remarking an already reddened spot, her gasping scream echoing through my bedroom and possibly the entire penthouse. Thankfully, the walls are reinforced; otherwise, the police would be here every Saturday night, putting my name on a list. The last thing I need right now is police attention.

I grab a fistful of her tangled, unkempt hair. It’s a little too dark for my taste, but I’ve gone through too many of her kind by now. I can’t risk bringing home the same prey twice. Instead, I mark her ruthlessly, filling her with my cock until she pants for a break or calls out for mercy.

Pulling back on her hair, she cries out, her back arched as far as it will while I drive her pelvis into the side of the bed. Her knees are shaking. She’s just about filled with my erection and might bleed if I fill her any more than I already have.

“Are you done? Please, tell me you’re done!”

I snarl as she begs. Bringing down the belt on the back of her shoulder should be enough. She twitches in response, screaming out in a hefty exhale. She continues begging me to finish off, trying to distract me from inflicting more pain, but it’s the only thing that keeps me going. Her mouth may say she wants it to stop, but her body speaks a different language.

Her knees pull together, so I kick her ankles out, forcing her to spread back open for me. I release the hold I have on her hair so I can shove her back into place, keeping her there until I bring the belt back down onto her pale flesh. She screams again, her pussy tightening with hot juices circling my cock in response to the pain.

I tip my head back, slamming my pelvis against her ass, feeling her hot, welted skin sing in response to my harsh thrusts inside of her. I’m nowhere near being finished with this one, and she knows it, too, becoming uneasy as I fight to keep her in place and accessible to my game.

She edges to climb up the bed, fighting my grasp, and for good measure, I slap the belt back against her skin, a whipped mark lining the others. She falls to her side in ugly tears, looking at her dress that puddled on the floor where I ripped it off of her in a single, swooping motion.

“Mercy! Mercy!”

I snort a noise of surprise. I didn’t think this little streetwalker could last as long as she did, but hearing her call for the safe word is beyond frustrating.

I throw the belt from my hand, hearing it break something on the nightstand nearby. I don’t focus on it, though, only reaching for my pants on the floor and pulling a rubber band wad of cash and throwing it at her when she struggles into her dress. She bears marks that are still enticing to me, but I’m not in the business of forcing anyone into my dark needs.

It would be more fun if one of them would enjoy it, but I’m starting to think that person doesn’t exist.

“Get out,” I bark, watching her dare to count the money in her fist.

She looks up, tear stricken and fearful in the lion’s den. “I can come back if—”

“No. You get one shot. That’s it. Never say my name to anyone or mention that you ever came here, or I’ll find you and everyone you love. Got it?”

She’s halfway sprinting out the door before I can even solidify my threat. I fall backward in bed, the scent of sex still lingering, but it’s nowhere near the point where I would be satisfied. I need relief. I need the perfect little sex kitten to bend over, take the pain, and shut up about it. She may be a distant goal—even an impossible one—but I can’t stop looking until my hunger is sated.

I glance sideways at the disarray on the nightstand, glass broken and my lampshade dented. The photo that once sat by my alarm clock is now on its side, the glass cracked after taking the brunt of my belt when that whore called it quits.

Pulling the photo over to me, I admire the amber eyes that twinkle in the sun. They’re beautiful, almost false if I hadn’t been so enticed with them for so many years. She’s a beautiful woman, a happy one, and we took this photo years ago when things weren’t so complicated. It was far before everything I came to know about this dirty world came to light.

I’m too tired to go prowling for another prey tonight. If anything, I only have a few hours until sunrise, and Tristan will be over to start the work day. It’s a terrible rhythm of trouble, money, and unspoken danger, but it’s all I have left in life.

One of my hands curls around the base of my erection, the other gripping the cheerful photo as I end this hunger myself. If I find one prey willing to see this through, I could finally get the closure I’ve been seeking all along.

But tonight, like the others, I am forced to find pleasure in other ways.