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

Chapter Twenty-Two

Isabella

Like the snap of his fingers, the car screeches to a stop under the highway. I find myself tucking into Carter’s chest as though this environment is more terrifying and unruly than he is. No matter his fit at the mayor’s office, and the bruises that lay strapped against my skin, I morbidly, undoubtedly, trust Carter Blackthorne.

“Get the fuck out,” he snarls, his hands pressing into the bones in my inner thighs, forcing me to writhe against his arousal. I shift to move—he snickers a chuckle into my throat. “Not you, dove.”

I hear the door open and close up front, the driver taking his order without protest. I burn in my face, slightly humiliated by the fact that I forgot he was still there. He doesn’t let his taunting go for long, snatching my wrist and bringing my hand to his lap where I sit.

His fist is in my hair, his free hand gripping the front edge of my throat for a light, taunting squeeze.

“Open my zipper.”

It’s hard not to shudder at his every command. He’s so demanding, just like the night we met in Jacob’s office, and when I anticipate he is going to be gentle in such a vulnerable moment, he’s even rougher.

I hiss a breath as he tightens his grip on my throat, a signal I’m not working fast enough for his taste. I lay into that annoyance of his, fussing with his trousers while I drag down his metal zipper clasp by agonizing clasp.

No matter the new cruelty it is to hint at choking me during sex, it’s certainly an exhilarating experience. I want to see what else he can do to claim control over me—as long as it doesn’t involve his belt.

Thankfully, I undo his buckle without him unstringing it through his pants. Maybe for today, it will stay put and stay off my ass in stinging laps.

“Pull me out, and use your hands to please me, dove.”

Again, another hot albeit brute command. I feel my warm core growing more and more damp with every syllable. He isn’t planning on letting up, either.

I bring his throbbing erection in my palms, dragging my fingers up his sex while his hand on my scalp relaxes, though the grasp on my neck intensifies. I dance along the line of pleasing him and taunting him, feeling his response through his hold against my throat.

After a minute of teasing, he realizes I’m just toying with him by now. My speed is lackluster, and I’m focusing most of my attention on his tip rather than the long, flinching shaft.

He drops his hands from me altogether, leaning forward and pinning me between his chest and the seat behind me.

My breath hitches. His jaw is locked.

“I’m going to be partial to your wounded ass, but if you don’t do as I say, the minute I say it, I’m going to pull you out of this car, bend you against the tailgate, and spank you until you’re red all over. Do you understand me now?”

I bite back a sheepish smile. “Yes, Carter.”

“Good,” he growls, leaning back and taking my hands in his, massaging himself through my palms as he shows me his preferred movements and speed.

Eventually, his hold falls, and he lays back, hands casually pressed into the back of his head like we’re on the beach, sunbathing. I picture that sight in my head while I bring more ferocity to my hands, stroking him wickedly and at the ideal quality of his preference.

His knees part more, forcing my legs to do the same, and it brings cold, vulnerable air to my inner thighs, damp and hot from my empty, aching pussy.

He smiles vividly with my excitement, and my hands start to be sore while they curve around him and make harsh, jerking movements at his whim.

“You’re so wet,” he snickers before he eventually slides his hand into my heat.

I choke on an inhale, my hands stalling for a mere millisecond, his knuckles diving into my drenched arousal. “Ah!” I bark, hissing in surprise. “Carter…”

“You stopped pleasing me, dove,” he whispers, still pushing and pulling through my core so recklessly that it feels good but aches at the same time. “You really need to learn how to listen better. We will work on that later, though. For now…”

He brings his other cupped palm against the side of my ass, striking a bruise that’s already made there and exasperating the worn ache that it already exuded. Now it hurts worse, my ass instinctively arching forward, his cock brushing the wet folds of my sex.

I shouldn’t have done that. At least he didn’t bend me against the tailgate as he promised earlier.

I mean, I don’t want that—right? Anything seems possible right now, and frankly, I’m okay with whatever he wants as long as he keeps his promise. I’ll endure the pain and mystery if it means the pleasure will follow eventually. Could be the arousal talking, though; I can always say that word he doesn’t want to hear.

The word I have no interest in uttering now.

He tips his head back, overflowing with the same anticipation I am. “Fuck it.”

With one hand planted on my hips, the other pulling his shaft from my palms, he lines himself up into my expecting folds and yanks me forward against his lap, filling me instantly.

I come from just his brash, single thrust.

I know he feels it, and I expect him to be as harsh in his critique of me like before, but he doesn’t seem to care anymore. He maneuvers my hips as he pleases, pushing and pulling and writhing and filling—so much filling.

I dare to fall out of his grip, everything inside me telling me to stay put, to ride the wave he has inside of me, and I’ll be damned if I tap out now.

Sex, in my mind, used to be romantic and tender.

This is vicious and greedy, with a hint of desperation mixed in there too.

“Dove,” he breathes, unable to hold back much longer while I bounce on the edge of my knees, gliding up and down on his taut erection like it’s the last thing I’ll do. “Yes, keep… dammit, dove. You’re so… I need your…”

His grip intensifies, clawing into my bruises and bringing the sting of pain back into the journey of immense pleasure. It overwhelms me, my legs trembling as I fall onto his shaft, coming for the third—maybe even the fourth—time total.

He must have done so as well, his hand back into my scalp, yanking me forward, our lips crashing in a hasty, mauling kiss. I lean in for more, thirsty for his lips and desperate for his affection.

Although the moment is stuck with me, I take the time during our kiss to maneuver him back into the zippered cover of his pants. He smiles through our locked lips and yanks my skirt back over the curved bones of my hips.

Without even a verbal command, the driver returns behind the wheel, making me wonder if he watched the entire exchange as it happened or if Carter has some weird telepathy power he never mentioned before.

Only one of those options, the more realistic of the two, embarrasses me.

I move to leave his lap, his hands stopping me as the car pulls out of the gravelly underpass of the bridge.

“Did I say you could move?”

My breath hitches in anticipation, and he hardly disappoints, coming down with a harsh slap against the plane of my ass. I submit to his chest, his hands working their way to curl around my sides sensually. He nestles his lips against my temple, and I feel perplexed by his sudden shift to gentleness.

“You are coming by the club tonight, dove.”

I shudder. Even though I was only there to confront Carter before, I saw enough to realize what that place was for. Velvet floors, bright red walls, and leather furniture—everywhere.

Carter was waiting behind a sectioned-off room, and if I had seen correctly, he had leather sex toys hung on the rack nearby. The thought of any of those coming against my ass makes me shiver.

He smiles, mistaking it for gleeful anticipation.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” I admit shamefully.

Carter brushes my hair off my shoulder and tucks it behind my ears. “I think you’re more ready than you give yourself credit for. You took me pretty well just now, and there is more space in the lounge to really take me fully, Bella. You’ll be fine.”

Swallowing hard, I fear asking if he will whip my ass more than he already has.

I guess I don’t need to ask. I already know that he will.