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

Chapter Nineteen

Isabella

I don’t know what’s gotten into Carter, but I hope it doesn’t disappear.

He has been watching me attempt to dance for what feels like an eternity, and just when I think my legs are going to give out, he stands up. He leans back, his cock harder than ever, and he stares me down like a hungry lion would a gazelle.

“Go upstairs, dove.”

His voice is like ice on my clit, and I shudder with both shock and delight at the roughness of his new demeanor. As my hands are bound in front of me, I carefully move to grab a towel, feeling his hand swing against the plane of my ass when I do so. The towel goes flying as I recoil from the instant pain, and his hand finds the back of my hair.

He tips my head up, my back and my sore, hot ass now pressed to his chest and his hips. He keeps me pinned there, too, his lips moving to my ear closest to the center of his chest where he has me hostage.

“Did I say you could cover up, dove?”

I shake my head in shame. “You want me to walk up there naked?”

He nods slowly, his hand tightening on my scalp. It’s not enough to hurt, but it is enough to know that he’s taking control back, and the week we spent without sex wasn’t spent in vain. “You will do everything I say to the word, or you’ll be punished, dove.”

Given all this time I’ve spent with Carter, I thought I knew all his antics by now, but I don’t. He places my focus back on the stairs leading to the main floor, and I pray when he came home that he sent anyone in the living room to Anita’s.

I walk up the stairs, naked, with his hands crawling over my sore ass. He rubs the spot he spanked over and over again until the searing pain is nothing but a distant memory against my skin. I plan to keep it that way, stopping in the living room while I wait for my next instructions.

“Go to the kitchen island, dove. Put your back on the countertop.”

I do as he instructs, but the dark marble slab is so cold that I hiss and step forward, bumping right into Carter as he comes around me. He gives me a warning look, and I wait for his hand to swing sideways against my backside. He’s lenient, which is new for him, and I’m happy about it.

However, his hands grab at my sides, and he lifts me off the floor with such ease. I mutter under my breath about the coldness against my ass, and he smiles wider at my discomfort over it. Tapping the edge of the countertop where my legs are parted, he gives me a narrow look.

“Lay down on your back, with your head off the edge of the countertop right here.”

My eyes widen. I’m already soaking wet and slipping around. Now I have to manage this position with my hands bound and my body covered in chills? It’s been a week of us tiptoeing around one another, and I figured it would be another few days before we would talk about what was said. Then maybe, and only then, would we reconnect sexually and fall into our old ways.

Half of my excitement is encouraged by the fact that I wasn’t expecting this at all. It’s even more driven by the thrill of what is to come and what this dynamic and sensual man has planned for us next. I could never keep track of his ideas before.

This only leads to a steeper edge of possibilities, and I’m excited about every single part of that.

I do as he wants, laying on my back with the back of my head hanging off the edge of the countertop. My back is frozen on the cold marble, my legs shivering and shaking, but I hope he just takes that as my enthusiasm and nervousness about what’s coming next.

He grabs my wrists, his hands stroking up my bare stomach and then between my breasts. When my hands are over my head, he looks slightly satisfied, letting them hang off the edge and below my head that’s already hanging off the side.

Blood rushes to my fingertips while some goes to my head, but I ignore it for now. This is worth it.

He stalks along the side of the kitchen island, his eyes sinking into my skin at every possible opportunity. It’s a little overwhelming to be like a meal for this powerful man, but that’s how I feel right now. He makes it known, too, that he can have what he wants when he wants it.

While the option to call for mercy is always present, I don’t do it. I’ve used it once when Carter got out of hand, but this isn’t the same. He might still harbor some anger, but it could be his normal amount. He’s typically an irate man anyway, so it’s hard to tell the distinction these days, but I know his breaking point.

It was last week in our argument.

As long as that side of him is held in check, then I think I’ll be just fine in this odd position. He walks away without a word, leaving the kitchen for the spare bathroom in the foyer. I get a bit antsy, worried someone will barge in and see me strewn naked over the kitchen countertop.

The family would have plenty to talk about then.

But Carter returns and puts those fears aside, holding a plastic bottle. He kneels on the edge of the countertop by my ankles, climbing onto the kitchen counter with more grace than I had. His mouth is full, his cheeks puffed out from their usual chiseled state. I glance up slightly, watching him settle between my legs like he’s got his tongue out, but he doesn’t.

He leans sideways and spits a mouthful of something into the sink. I watch with intense curiosity as he slides the bottle off to the side. There is just enough light in here for me to read the label.

Minty mouthwash.

I nearly jump out of my skin as he leans forward, his breath trailing across my parted, wet pussy. He exhales on purpose, the tingly sensation of the minty mouthwash brushing my aching clit and needy folds. I bite back a scream, ready to throw myself onto the floor, but it’s too late.

He brings his dripping wet lips down against my silky sex, his mouth moving in rhythm to every shiver, shake, and writhe of my body against the marble. He makes no effort to slow down while I moan and groan, sometimes in intense pleasure but also in frightening cold surprise. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before, and it doesn’t stop.

The more I ebb with delight, the more wet I become, and the more the warm aftermath of my pleasure is met with a freezing cold sensation that stings in more ways than one. It’s not just shockingly delightful, but it’s also incredibly hot.

My head hangs off the edge of the countertop in shock, and I fight the urge to scream to the ceiling while he threads his tongue in and out of my pussy. The temperature seems impossibly real the whole time, and just when I think he’s found his own time to declare mercy for me, it intensifies.

He takes another swig, freshening the sting against my clit before working me through yet another orgasm.

“Ah!”

He chuckles against my pussy as I call out in desperation—in tentative astonishment. “Go on, dove. Scream.”

My breath hitches, and my body does the same physically, flinching under his weight as his hands pin my hips down firmly. It’s just the leverage I need to lift my back off the cold countertop, the aching spike of pleasure and pain in my core just about pushing me to my max.

“You’re not screaming, dove.”

I don’t have to look up to know he’s sucking on his fingers. The mouthwash is transferred on purpose, his knuckles slipping into my core deeper and deeper until I feel the base of his hand. He can’t go any deeper, and I’m happy about that a little bit, but the icy shock of the solution now lining the inside of my pussy isn’t cold anymore.

It’s burning hot, and it’s delicious.

“Carter!” I scream, his name a hearty moan in many ways. He snickers more at my delightful coo of orgasm than he had at my shocking realization of what he was up to down there. It’s like ice against my sex—ice that turns into warmth at the flick of his fingers.

And he flicks his fingers very well.

He works me through another orgasm, then one more, the back-to-back stimulation rocking my body to the very center. I break and rebuild myself again and again. I have to stay focused, seeing stars while my head hangs limply off the edge of the countertop.

When he finally pulls his fingers free, he sucks them into his mouth and climbs down. I pray for some leniency now, needing a moment to adjust back to Earth while my head was just in Pluto and my body thrust even further into the weightless space beyond that!

I watch him come around the countertop, still sucking his fingers like a popsicle in the summer. He stands over me, his cock jerking naturally while he keeps his focus on my eyes. Removing his fingers from his soft lips, he slides them into my mouth. I can see him positioning himself just right to enter my lips with something else after his knuckles.

It’s a genius plan, really, and the height of the countertop is perfect for his cock to slip in through my mouth and align down my throat, all while I’m left vulnerable on the countertop for his pleasure.

“Relax, dove. This is going to be good for us both.”

I’ve never believed anything more than that phrase coming from Carter’s lips right now.