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

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Isabella

I jolt upright in bed, somewhere I know I hadn’t fallen asleep.

At least, not on purpose, and definitely not inside Carter Blackthorne’s penthouse. I steady the edge of my dress over my sore ass and rush out of the room, fearing the punishment that is coming. But to my surprise, it looks like the sun is setting over the city through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and Carter is lounging about, sipping tea.

What a stark difference in personalities that sits on the couch. Carter Blackthorne is ruthless and dangerous and a thrill just by sight. However, his teacup is dainty and white, with a crystal plate set on the table nearby, holding various snacks like fruit and assorted nuts at his reach.

He flicks a glance over his shoulder, taking his eyes off the TV for now and turning to meet my stalled, curious stance in the bedroom doorway. He sets the teacup down, but I forever imprint the sight of this wild beast of a man sipping from a frilly cup into memory.

“Dove, are you well rested at last?”

I nod, my throat tight around the words I want to squeak right now. My body shivers, and I finally break, rushing around the couch and falling at his feet, my forehead resting against the crane of his knee in ultimate, unwavering surrender.

“Please, don’t punish me, Carter,” I plead. “I’m sorry about what I said at the office, and then I fell asleep, and I am supposed to be working. I know that, and I’ll make it all up to you as soon as—”

“Shh,” he purrs, pulling my cheek up with his gentle hand. I bite back the whimpers while he settles his gaze against mine. “You’re not in trouble. I overreacted, and it’s okay that you ask personal questions. I want you to be comfortable with me, dove.”

The welts from his belt against my skin seem to think otherwise. It’s hard to imagine Carter being apologetic or even contradictory about his early feelings in his office. He was so furious, so wound up, that seeing him calm now is like looking at a different man completely.

“You’re not mad at me?”

“No, dove. I’m not mad. I’m glad you caught up on sleep, though. You’re going to need it. But first, get off your knees and sit on the couch with me. Have some food. I’ll make you some tea.”

Too frightened by his starkly calm demeanor, I oblige at once, taking a spot on the couch while he retreats to the kitchen and adds another teacup and plate to the table. At the risk of my hand shaking in fear, I stare at the teacup for a long moment and wait for the explanation to leak itself out of my boss.

“You know you’re not forced to sleep with me, dove. Right?”

I nod at his words. “I’m aware of that, Carter. I know I can say mercy.”

He smiles briefly, the sight of it so foreign on his fierce features. “Good. And you know, aside from the belt during sex, I would never hurt you past an acceptable boundary, right?”

“What is this about?” I ask, my breath hitching. “I fell asleep when you were furious over me asking a question about what Tristan said, and now you’re acting worried like I’m going to quit my job.”

He shrugs, modestly unapprehensive. A quality I know he portrays very well. Confidence strikes Carter like lighting to a pole, exuding him completely. But this confidence isn’t like it was in his office.

He looked down on me then like I was his main source of contention.

Now he stares at me like he’s confident that nothing, not even my fumbling presence, could affect him.

“Your work hours are going to be eleven in the morning to seven at night. I am providing you with a car. That way, you can run errands, arrive at work, and visit your father safely at night.”

My eyes widen at his words. “Wh-what? You’re giving me a car?”

“It’s a company lease, and it will come with a credit card for gas and other expenditures necessary to keep it functional for your use. You will also be off every Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. In those three days, you will stay here, at my penthouse, with me.”

My hands shake uncontrollably in my lap.

“The biggest rule, the vein of our agreement, is you do not fuck anyone other than me.”

I finally pick up the teacup and sip on the lavender taste, just so I can stall the time between his rules and my response to them. In reality, I have no response to these stipulations. It’s not like I gave up my virginity just to spread my lust all over the city, but it’s an odd rule to put on a personal assistant.

“And, of course, I will give you the same respect,” he mutters. “Do we have a deal, dove?”

For lack of a better reply, I nod vehemently.

He leans forward, his hand squeezing my thigh once while his lips brush my cheek. “Good. Now, go get your shoes on. I’m going to take you shopping for some office and bedroom attire, and then we are going to dinner.”

I glance out one of his many, vast windows. “It’s nighttime already, Carter. All the stores are probably closed already.”

He sits back, crossing his legs at the knees. “Not unless you know the owners.”

I don’t even waste time finishing my tea. I throw myself into my heels and follow Carter through the lobby downstairs, sliding effortlessly into the backseat of his awaiting SUV. He directs his driver in short, vague commands, and as the world does in response to Carter, he obliges without hesitation.

Part of me is still so frightened of this man, even more so after the odd shift in his behavior. I fell asleep knowing that I would wake up to a punishment put on pause for me, but instead, I got warm tea and a great deal of a job opportunity.

Working diligently is easy for me. Reading my boss’ ever-changing attitude?

Fucking impossible.

He helps me onto the sidewalk when the car stops, my heart dropping at the large, designer brand store with its curtains closed and lights off for the evening. Carter taps the glass with his knuckles, his free hand holding my wrist and keeping me pinned into his side.

He acts like I’m about to be stolen from him or, in even more of a stretch, that’d I’d run away.

A man peers through the curtain against the glass door, his eyes wide as he stares up at the sight of Carter Blackthorne on his sidewalk. The door is unlocked and thrown open at once, Carter whisking me off the street and into a store that’s full of the most beautiful outfits I’ve ever seen.

I stare into the oblivion of price tags and pencil skirts.

Carter takes a seat in the lounge, facing the dressing rooms while the few struggling staff members hustle around to fill the spaces with dresses and blouses and even a few riskier outfits I would never pick for myself. I stand frozen in the aisle, overwhelmed.

He’s dangerous, he’s rich, and he is far more interested in me than I thought.

“Come on, dove. I don’t have all night.”

I finally feel my feet again, taking me to the dressing room set up with countless outfits and stacks of shoe boxes. I lean against the wall, my head spinning at the sight of more clothes in this room than have ever been hung on my clothes rack.

“I’m waiting,” Carter prods. I face him from where he sits on the couch, his head resting sideways as he carves his thirsty eyes down the edge of my body. “Everyone leave,” he orders, speaking to the few workers lingering nearby. “Wait in the break room until I’m ready to check out.”

Everyone scurries off, and I stammer to speak more now than ever before.

He stands, walking toward me and not stopping until his lips break against mine. He kisses me so deeply that I would start to hit the floor were it not for his tough grasp on my hips.

“Better?” he asks, yanking away from my lips at once.

I fall limp against the wall, exasperated from his kiss, from his constant attention, but loving every second of it as well. I nod and reach for the door, but he strikes it backward, keeping it open.

“Leave this here,” he hums, a crooked smile on his perfect, peachy lips. “I want to watch it all.”

Now, there is the Carter Blackthorne I recognize.

He takes his spot back on the couch, the only audience member for the show, and crosses his ankles while resting his arms against the back of the sofa. I strip down to my black panties and bra, hearing him snap his fingers in command without actually speaking out loud.

I take it all off and stand bare, on display in this fitting room, for the only man that matters enough to watch it all happen. I slip into a few skirts and expensive, frilly tops. There are pearls and sequins and silk—everything I’ve never been able to afford.

Or ever will be able to… unless I somehow pay off my father’s impending debts once and for all.

I keep that topic out of my mind for now, trying not to turn this exciting shopping spree into something so sulking and depressing. Carter either offers a head nod or a look of disgust, filtering through every outfit until I’ve exhausted myself, and the fitting room’s full of office attire.

I stare at the last stack of clothes left, a few sets of bras and panties that look more expensive than the monthly rent of my apartment. My hand shivers as I reach for one, my stomach turning, seeing a flicker of my red welts against my ass and my back.

The old and new marks make me sick.

I’d rather stand here naked forever than dress up like I’m some kind of attractive, better-than-average woman with curves worth keeping.

Carter is beside me in a second, his hands grabbing the red bra up front that has diamond jewels lining the straps. I look away from it altogether, feeling sicker by the thought of disgracing it with my abused body.

“You’re not done here, dove,” he breathes, speaking into the juncture of my neck and my shoulder. “Not even close.”

“I can’t wear that, Carter. It’s really, really nice. Too nice for me.” I bury my face in my palms, anxiety bursting through the seams throughout my body. “All of this is too nice for me to wear. I don’t want any of it. I don’t—”

I gasp, my back falling into his chest while his fingers press into my naked, unsuspecting sex.

He snickers a laugh into my hair, his arm laced over my body so he can play with my wet folds as he pleases, all the while his free hand loosely grasping against my throat.

“You should have put on the bra, dove. It would have been the only thing to keep me from ripping it off and making you as naked as you are now. I guess punishment is befitting tonight, after all.”

My breath hitches, his knuckles going deeper into my sex.

This form of punishment doesn’t seem too bad at all.