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

Chapter Sixty-One

Isabella

I was sure that Carter Blackthorne was always prepared for everything, but this takes things to a new extreme. Shifting through my closet, full of clothes I’m not sure we bought together, I find an array of lace and leather outfits not meant for public consumption in the back.

I stare at them in mild shock, with a hint of embarrassment tracing my lips, my mouth parted agape in awe for so long that my tongue feels dry by the time I think to shut my lips. Everything in the lineup is more risqué than the outfit before it.

They’re all lined in price tags still, some of them reaching to the higher three digits than I think necessary, but it’s Carter’s prerogative, obviously. I thumb through the bondage-looking outfits, feeling intimidated just by the look of the long, thick leather straps that would cut under my ass and cover only half of my breasts.

The other spectrum of options is dainty and innocent, obviously picked out for my taste, but then there is one in the middle that catches my focus. It’s bright red with silk meant to hold my chest while also stringing around to my sex before tying into the back for a cohesive look in the front.

It’s daunting and certainly makes a statement, which is more of a reason for me to try it on.

My hair is still damp from my shower, but I found some bandages that will have to work for now and covered the scratches on my neck and shoulders. I try not to imagine the sight of the marks joining the others, my body a tattered map of my lost fights lately.

And Carter’s rage earlier in the week.

After finally maneuvering my body into the red silk, I turn, examining my back and my ass in the display of his mirror. I look like I’ve lost a little weight, no doubt due to stress, but my wounds have somewhat healed. I have a yellowing bruise on my face from being snatched off the sidewalk and punched unconscious in the back of the Lacey truck.

By no means do I feel attractive, but I know my and Carter’s standards are very different. I lay in bed, anyway, hearing him talk aimlessly with the men in the living room. Ernesto’s voice piques a few times, and I try to wait for Carter to say he’s going to the bedroom for a while. It will be my cue to prepare, but for now, I prop myself upright, looking over his nightstand.

The other one is littered with some of my stuff, set up to insinuate that I will sleep on that side of the bed, but this one is Carter’s, and I know it well. I pull open the top drawer, surprised when I don’t see that cracked-glass portrait that I’ve seen before.

I check the other drawer, finding the same outcome.

Did he really throw out that photo of Brooke, or did he just get better at stowing it away, out of sight from us both? Either way, I hear his voice soften, telling the men he has business to attend to in his room. I brace myself, remaining hopeful that he admires the outfit I chose for such a meeting.

He shuts the door quickly behind him, staring me down like a drooling, hungry hyena. My knees instinctively part, my back resting in his sheets while my spine arches, grinding into the air for him to drink down the sight of my body in this red number.

He crosses his arms, tilting his head while I try to lay still, my knees parted for him to take full view of my damp core, but his amusement and intrigue seem to quickly fade off.

“What’s wrong?” I pout a little, wondering why he isn’t ripping into me already. “You don’t like it?”

“You look stunning, dove, but you’re missing something.”

My brow furrows, and I sit up, looking down at my outfit and wondering if I missed a piece. I can’t imagine there being much more to be included with this scantily constructed outfit. Still, he stalks off into the bathroom, disappearing into his closet before returning with a drawstring bag.

He sets it down next to me, pulling the mouth of it open and holding a set of two long, black chains. I stare at them dimly, seeing a clip on the ends of both linked lines but not processing what they are for. Carter snatches my wrist without warning, pulling it up over my head and looping the chains around my arm and the slatted headboard.

My breath hitches, unable to protest before my other wrist is just as secured overhead, clipped and chained to the headboard. My hands are now completely out of the equation, which makes his next move easier.

He finds a little pink cylinder, drawing it up my wet, throbbing sex before sliding it perfectly into my core. I stare at him wide-eyed and nervous, watching him lean over the foot of his bed to press a button on the device.

It buzzes to life, and I yelp in response.

Carter holds a finger to his lips, licking the prequel to my orgasm off his knuckle before giving me a shushing motion with that same finger. It vibrates so hard and so deep that I can’t see straight, only making out the outline of his back as he trails off into the bathroom and strips out of his clothes.

He leans sideways, flicking on the shower and climbing into it.

The audacity of this man will never make any sense to me, but he is confident in everything he does, especially when it involves devouring me. I can only imagine his body in the shower, his erect, pulsing cock in my hands or my mouth—or whatever hole he sees fit.

I wouldn’t mind any of them right now, at the mercy of the vibrating toy from hell that sends a warmness between my thighs with unrelenting and incomprehensible power that should be illegal to feel this amazing.

I arch my back, coming in a tense, salacious second alone. I stare at the ceiling, feeling my body ebb through the vibrations while thinking of Carter’s body over mine. I thought it would be that simple before when he demanded I be ready for him in bed, but I never anticipated he wouldn’t be ready at the same time!

His idea of torture is cruel, but I love every second of it, moaning louder than I probably should as another warm output seeps between the walls of my core and the pulsating toy tucked inside of me.

Carter clears his throat, standing at the foot of the bed with a towel hung casually around the lower region of his hips. I can trace the muscles that lead to his cock, even seeing the imprint of his stiffness press into the cotton fabric of that fucking lucky towel.

His chest and abdomen are damp and tan, daring to taunt me with his perfect physique that I would pay millions of dollars just to lick. I know I could do that for free if I wanted to, but the restraints on my wrists say otherwise.

I part my knees, hoping the device slides out, but it only prompts him to kneel on the bed and press his fingers against the base of the toy, driving it further into my sex and lighting a new fire inside my gut.

“Ah, ah, ah,” I pant, biting back an all-out scream for more.

“You know, I could look at this all day and all night, dove,” he says, his eyes tracing every inch of my body, pulling at my thighs when I twitch my legs together, freeing up the sight of my sex that he stares at with a hungry, narrow glare. “Do you think you could survive that long, Bella?”

“No,” I bark, my jaw taut while I fumble for any more words to describe what I want right now. None of them come to fruition, pushed out of the way for a hollering wail of an orgasm. “Carter! Please—”

“Shh,” he sighs, shaking his head. “You’re going to give away the ambiguity of our fun to my cousins outside.” His knuckle shoves the device in even further, bringing back his finger to taste my latest product. He grins with delicious delight. “Then again, I think you like the thought of being found out like this. So innocent and pure until she is faced with an orgasm. Then she’s dirty and needy and desperate for my cock.”

I shake my head harder, fighting his words that are most certainly true. The world spins as the vibrations are rougher and trembling so hard that I can’t hold back another wave of pleasure as it crashes over me. I’m weak, my stomach taut, and the muscles in my body sore.

I need this to stop, but on the other hand, I still want Carter to have me!

“You look like you’re going to come again,” he whispers, shaking his head. He stands back, unfolding the towel and letting it fall to the ground. I can see his fingertips loosely wrapped around the base, maneuvering up and down the damning length with lazy precision. “Maybe you need something to help quiet down. What do you think?”

I nod vehemently, and he slowly strolls to the head of the bed, standing just inches away from my face, but he doesn’t move. I fight the chains, feeling desperate with the need to alleviate my next howl of ecstasy, and the desperation in my movements makes him laugh.

“Easy now,” he groans, pushing me back with a simple shove to the shoulder. “You’ll get everything you want, Bella. Just be patient.”

I bite my lip, my hips lifting off the bed while the device toys with my system. I’m losing power, losing focus, and my vision crosses into a haze while I ride the oncoming swell of another orgasmic release.

Thankfully, Carter catches it before I can scream, his erection plunging into my lips and knocking into my throat. I feel myself coming back down to reality, seeing his kneeling thrusts beside me, his hand limply holding my scalp while the other is gripping the headboard.

He’s fighting back coming in just a matter of seconds when entering my lips, which only drives me further in need to settle the score. I swirl my tongue around the tip wildly, pushing my plump, wet lips all the way to the base and holding him there, feeling his body react in impulse to such command of his sex.

“Fuck, dove,” he growls, his hand curling into my scalp a little harder. “You’re going to make this end so soon,” he snarls. “I almost want to stop you, but it feels so fucking good.”

Even with my focus on him, I lose track of the device inside of me, and it creeps back up on me with a vengeance. I twitch, my ass writing off the mattress while I feel my body snapping out of place just to accommodate another round of insurmountable satisfaction.

He takes this time to thrust harder against my face, making his hips fluid to the rhythm that will be his downfall. It works too well, his warm, plentiful cum shooting down my throat. I choke on the amount of it, gagging slightly as he yanks himself free.

His mouth meets mine seconds later, biting and mauling and needing every inch of my tongue to be taken control of by his. His hand slides over my outfit and then settles between my thighs. The device is plucked out of me at last, the overwhelming outcome of my cum pouring out of me.

He holds his fingertips there for a minute as if feeling for his work and celebrating it with a smile against my lips. When he gives me mercy and pulls away altogether, I gasp for air, choking and coughing until I can calm myself down from the high I was just on.

My hands are unhooked, cut loose, and the outfit is ripped off my body in harsh movements. I lay on my side, dead to the world, feeling Carter brush my sex with a warm, water-damp rag. I shiver as he grazes my clit, the plump firmness of it so delicate and sensitive right now.

He snickers before tossing the rag away and peeling off the bandages on my neck. I hiss, his hands replacing the small ones I pieced together with long, softer alternatives. It’s enough to put me to sleep, the stress of this day weighing heavy on my mind.

It’s been full of the highest highs and the lowest possible lows.

I’m just glad it gets to end with Carter Blackthorne lying behind me, peacefully flush against my back, while we wordlessly fall into place together again.

For now, everything is at peace, but I know it’s not meant to last. Not while Jacob Lacey still roams the streets of Manhattan like a feral cat, ready to scratch eyes out and scamper off into the abyss of his hole.