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

Chapter One

Isabella

The realtor raves over the recessed lighting, the stunning marble floors, and the copper tub in the ensuite upstairs that is perfect for date night. I hardly hear a word she says, instead staying focused on how often she leans into my lover when she talks. She takes every opportunity to brush Carter’s arm casually, laughing through her words when nothing funny is said and giving me a rather dismissive look whenever he takes my hips in his hands.

I stray from her guided tour, poking my head around the corner into the wide office space with built-in cabinets and storage under the bench by the large front window. It’s not a bad house by any means, but every time I turn around, I catch the petite realtor in her thin heels hitting on the man who hasn’t just saved my life but saved the entire Blackthorne legacy.

Carter catches my eyes for a moment, not even giving this needy woman the time of day. I appreciate his attentiveness in coming to my side in long strides, his black hair tamed with just the right amount of gel. He adjusts the cufflinks on his crisp white shirt, the typical black roses I’ve grown so used to finding lying around the penthouse.

“So, what do you think, Mr. Blackthorne?” the realtor asks, following him as he joins me at my side. She makes no effort to step back a few feet, instead grazing his forearm with her overly manicured nails. “It’s the most luxurious home on the market right now in Manhattan. Fit for a king.”

He looks at me, one of his brows cocked. “You hear that, Bella? Fit for a king. I guess that means this is a decision to be made by a queen, wouldn’t you agree?”

I shrug, exhausted from house hunting and never finding the one that feels right.

“I don’t know, it’s not really something that I—”

“It’s the hottest home on the market. You won’t find a better deal,” the woman chimes in.

Carter flicks an unimpressed look over his broad shoulder. “You know what? I think we’re done looking for a home with you.”

She perks up, her grin lopsided and hopeful. “So, are you putting in an offer?”

“No,” he responds, speaking through his taut jaw. “I’m going to find a different realtor. One that doesn’t act like a bitch in heat whenever someone with money walks through her office doors.”

Her mouth parts in a rather unflattering shape, her eyes searing with hate and heat, both fueling her frustration as it caresses her posture. She slouches, storming out of the house at once. When we can no longer hear the clicks of her heels, he pulls me in closer to his firm body.

“Now that we’ve settled that,” he purrs, his lips caressing my exposed throat. “What do you really think about the place?”

I hesitate, not saying anything.

“Talk,” he says against my throat. “Say whatever you want, dove.”

“It’s just… this house is so… and we’re just—”

“If you don’t get those words out faster, I’m going to be forced to find a bed in this damn place.”

I snicker under my breath, feeling weightless, like I may float away. He holds me in a way that would prevent that from happening, the sensation of his tongue and teeth trailing against my skin keeping me in place. His hands skim down my sides and settle on the curve of my ass, kneading my backside until there’s a sharp press of his erection pushing through his slacks.

It’s enough to shift my focus from this house to pleasing Carter, but he never makes it easy on me.

“Decide,” he says, speaking through his teeth. “Do you want this house?”

It’s impossible to think straight with his mouth nipping at me like this. I need to focus, to make a definitive decision on this matter, but how can I? He pulls one hand away, bringing it sharply against my ass. It’s enough to make me yelp, my answer pushing through my lips.

“No, I don’t want this house,” I gasp.

He steps back, his thumb stroking the sore spot on my neck. “Alright, then, I guess we should get going.”

My brows pinch in desperate angst. “Wait, that’s it?”

He straightens out his coat, buttoning it up in the middle so it covers the bulge in his pants. I’m happy to see he’s just as on edge, but I hoped to get a little bit friskier before watching him pull away. He hardly seems worried by my question, taking my hand in his as we walk out of the mansion.

The realtor is outside, tapping her foot with moderate impatience. Carter doesn’t even look in her general direction, opening the back door to our waiting SUV and urging me inside. I fall over the seats, but Carter doesn’t mention it, climbing in next before he yanks me upright and plants me right onto his lap.

Ernesto gives us a hopeful look through the rearview mirror. “Well, was that the winner?”

“Not by a long shot,” Carter replies, spreading his legs and, in turn, doing the same to mine. “Take us to my club, Ernesto. We have some business to attend to.”

He nods, pulling the car toward the bustle of downtown. “You’re still planning on going to the election party tonight, right? Everyone has already said they’re coming to support you. It’s a big deal, Carter.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he growls, his hands skating over the tops of my thighs and caressing the insides. He pulls my legs apart further, exposing me to the back of the seat in front of us. Thankfully, Ernesto can’t see anything of my vulnerable position, but Carter loves riding the line of almost making that happen. “We will be at the gala on time and dressed to the nines.”

I lay my head back on his shoulder, already throbbing with the heat that shoots down my stomach and settles in my pussy. Carter knows it, too, just like he knows everything else about my body. He drags his hands up the back of my shirt next, undoing my bra clasp by clasp.

His teeth pull at my ear, his voice deepening in tone. “Take it off. Now.”

I manage to slip my bra off through my shirt, pulling it out through one of my sleeves. He looks over the expensive pink lace before tossing it onto the backseat beside us.

“Good, dove.”

I practically purr against him, my ass writhing against his erect cock. I can almost feel the taut tip of his dick when I inch my ass back, grinding into his lap until it’s clear that he’s going to erupt. His hands snatch my hands, stilling me until the car comes to a screeching halt.

“Stay out here,” Carter sighs, nudging me out the door while he speaks to Ernesto. “We won’t be gone too long.”

“You got it,” he replies with a tilt of his head.

My arms cling over my thin shirt, the freezing fall breeze pushing past us both while we scale the sidewalk and duck into the Blackthorne Lifestyle Club. I used to make up excuses in my head to not meet Carter here, but now it’s my favorite place to play.

He ushers me into our room and shuts the door, making sure it’s securely locked before turning to face me. Carter is all but salivating at the sight of my body, even while wearing simple denim jeans and an oversized white blouse. Still, he begs to be turned on, and I’m the fix he’s looking for.

All that matters now is what toy to use. The wall is filled with them, including a few that are laid in baskets around the room. There’s also a wardrobe near the back, filled to the brim with lingerie that I couldn’t fit in the closet at his penthouse. He could have me do anything right now, and I gladly would, my panties damp and getting damn near soaked quickly.

“Go to the pole,” he demands, dragging a chair to the edge of the stage.

I try not to give away my true feelings about the stripper’s pole in the middle of the room. It’s never my first choice, or even close to my favorite, but I think that’s why he likes to use it every so often. He is addicted to making me feel flustered, begging for me to blush and delve back into my shyness.

But, of course, I don’t argue with Carter Blackthorne.

I step onto the platform and wait for further instructions. He falls back into the chair, legs outstretched with the material of his pants tight against his crouch. He leans his chin into his palm, his elbow bent against the armrest of his chair.

“Take it all off, dove.”

I slide out of my shirt first, my nipples erect from the cold Manhattan air outside. He looks rather amused by the sight of my chill, my arms delicately trying to cover myself up as I slowly step out of my pants and panties.

Kicking everything off the side of the stage, Carter watches me like a hawk.

“Grab the pole, Bella, and put your back against it.”

My brows knit at his command. “Okay…”

I do as he says, standing right against the pole, at least happy that I don’t have to spin around it like an exotic dancer. I certainly don’t have the skills to perform like that, so this is much easier. He sits up straighter, leaning forward while his eyes draw over every inch of my body.

“Cross your wrists behind you,” he adds. “Behind your back and behind the pole, too.”

Again, I follow his instructions, unsure of what he’s planning.

“Kneel,” he adds in a heavy exhale.

I have to be very careful with my movements, making sure my hands stay right where they are and keeping my back pressed to the pole. I kneel, the cold bar pushed against the seam of my ass, only adding to the chill that ignites over my heated skin.

While I’m propped up on my knees, Carter finally stands, walking to the front of the platform until he is just an inch or two away from me. I stare up at the tall posture of the man I love, wishing he would just get naked already and put my trembling desire to bed.

If there’s anything Carter Blackthorne is good at, it’s making my body pulsate with constant sexual need.

He strips out of his coat as if on cue and tosses it to the floor with my clothes. His shirt comes off next, his perfectly carved abdomen taut from the restraint he’s displaying right now.

Instead of reaching for his pants, he strokes my face, tipping my head back against the pole and yanking my chin up as high as it will go. I strain all over, fighting to stay put, but he’s making it damn near impossible!

“Tell me something, dove,” he says in a deep exhale. “Where do you want to live?”

I’m taken aback by his question. “You’re going to ask me that right now?”

“I want an answer, dove,” he growls, shooting me an unkind look of warning. “Do you even want to move in with me full time? Is it me you despise, not the houses we’ve toured the past three weeks?”

“It’s not that at all,” I pant. “I want to be with you forever, Carter. I do! It’s just…” I hang my head, his fingertips drawing through my scalp. I lean my forehead onto his inner thigh, desperately wanting to pull at his zipper with my teeth, but his treacherous belt still stands in my way. “I don’t know, Carter. None of those houses felt right to me.”

“Why not?”

Swallowing hard, I subdue a tremble in my exposed posture. “Because it’s just… I don’t know, really.”

“You do know,” he contradicts. “Say it, dove.”

When I finally muster enough courage to say something, it floods out of my mouth like a cracked dam. “I’m just scared, Carter.”

“Scared about what?”

“About us.”

He grips my scalp in his hand, pulling my head back up. Somehow, with my head down and my eyes darted away, he’s managed to undo the clasp on his belt. I take it as a warning, a negative threat, and I hope I didn’t just earn a punishment. Then again, he hasn’t done that since the finality of the Lacey incident.

I’ve gotten better over the last few weeks, including the two weeks Carter spent getting interrogated by every law enforcement agency in the country. Once Frances Johnson, the disgraced ex-mayor, was indicted with enough charges to land him life in prison, they gave Carter back to me, and we healed—physically and emotionally—together. It could be better, though. Even after Frances pled guilty and was sent to Sing Sing to enjoy a four-by-four cell with murderers, I still feel like he’s nearby, his spirit looming through the state.

I guess that doesn’t ensure that Carter won’t use his belt on me, but I’m hoping it’s enough to deter a hearty spanking with it.

“You have nothing to worry about with us,” he says, speaking smoothly. “It’s not much different from you coming to stay at my penthouse every day. Or like when we stay at Anita’s. It’s just expansion.”

“Exactly,” I breathe. “I don’t know if I want a big house.”

He cocks his head sideways, watching me closely while his hand pets the top of my head methodically. “Elaborate, dove. What are you saying?”

“If we get a big house, I don’t know if I can handle it. I’ll be there alone, without you, during the day, and I don’t want to be that lonely. I want somewhere that keeps you close to me when you’re home. I don’t like the space between us. Unless, of course, while you’re at work, then maybe I could find something to do, too.”

He bites his lower lip, a familiar rage rising in his darkened eyes.

“Is this about you having a job again, Isabella?”

I swallow, hating when he uses my full name.

“Sort of…”

He flicks his belt off, undoing it from the loops on his pants. I push back against the bar as much as possible, already preparing for what’s coming. He nearly lost me before, and I know that asking for independence right now, so soon after I was almost ruined by his rival, isn’t the best idea. I just want to remind him that whatever house we pick is the house I’ll be trapped in all day.

I don’t like being alone without him, and he doesn’t like me being in public without protection.

But even in public, where do I go? My father is in the hospital, and while he has stabilized, his mind has worsened. I have tried reaching out to Sam but to no avail. At least with Jacob Lacey, I had a purpose. I had a job to do and bills to take care of. With Carter, I feel myself slowly growing roots in a place he won’t be near. If I stay stagnant in life, and he keeps moving forward, then won’t that tear us apart?

Bracing myself for the worst, he stalks behind me and slaps the looped belt against his open palm.

“We’re not talking about this anymore,” he growls. “I’ve told you enough times before, Isabella. I’m not losing you. I let you stray too far before, and it got you kidnapped and wounded. If you think I’m going to overlook that and let you wander Manhattan alone for the sake of some frivolous income, then you’re wrong. I’ll give you something to do.”

I hang my head slightly, bracing for the imminent impact against my ass.