Carving Graves: A Dark Mafia Romance (The KORT Series Book 2)

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CELESTE

Once my mother sauntered off, I wandered upstairs to my bedroom with the thought of lying down until Liam was done speaking with my father, but that idea didn’t last long. After rinsing off in a hot shower, I slipped into some comfy clothes and traipsed around upstairs aimlessly.

Liam finds me in the second-floor theater room, curled up on the plush sofa alone—apart from the old ghosts. Phantom days when Ben and I would lounge in here to binge movies or sleepovers with Ivy when we hardly slept. When life felt easy. Or difficult for trivial reasons.

“What did you talk about with my father?” I ask without turning to see him.

I knew the footfalls were his because I felt him. I always feel him. He sucks all the oxygen out of a room, shrinks the space, and changes the very particles of the atmosphere.

And yet, somehow, he enables me to breathe like I never have before.

“We came to an understanding,” is all he offers, still hovering in the entrance to the room.

“Would my dad agree? Or was it the kind of understanding you and he came to on the phone when you had me bound and gagged in the steam room?”

He chuckles, like the memory pleases him. Honestly, it’s one of my favorites too—as twisted as that is. No one has ever fought for me like that. I mean, Ivy has always been my ride or die. And Ben obviously protected me over all else.

But Liam’s love is different. Passionate. All-consuming. He sees all my cracks and loves me because of them. He doesn’t just try to fill them or expect me to gloss over them to exude a polished facade; he shoves himself inside my fractured places without invitation. Because he can’t bear not to make me whole.

“This was better. I reiterated to him that you’re my forever in more respectful terms.” He releases a frustrated sigh, evidently still reeling from the concession. “For you. I’d do anything for you.”

I believe that. He doesn’t like to explain or repeat himself, but he did. For me.

The floor creaks as he moseys inside, but I don’t pull my gaze from my clasped hands.

“Look at me, Celeste.” The use of my first name and the iciness of his voice have my eyes finally snapping to his.

A midnight forest, complete with the eerie rustling of a clandestine life, like the wind howling in warning.

He steps between my legs and drags me up to my feet to meet him. One arm slides around my waist while the other clutches my chin. “We’re done with the bullshit where you don’t trust me or fucking believe in us. Right?”

It’s a question and a command, but it’s desperate in a way that I don’t usually hear from Liam. I nod inside his grip and lick my lips because his demanding, controlling, unhinged side does something feral to me. And it feels intense—like the day he made me crawl to him. The day he confessed that he loved me and claimed me and promised me the world.

“This is important,” he insists. “I need verbal confirmation.”

My throat works overtime on a swallow. The whole world seems to fade around me so that nothing exists but this moment, this man, this demand. “Yes. I trust you.”

He exhales but only briefly, and relief is not what I see painting his features. I’m not sure I can put a name to it though.

His hazels meander all over my face. “And you believe in us? In me? Our family? That you’re mine? Ours? And that we would all do anything for you? Anything.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask what that means regarding the book and my father and Ben’s wishes, but before I can, he hits me with, “I know your head is a fucking mess. It’s all been so much—more than you should ever have had to endure. But fuck all that shit. I choose you, baby. Always. We all do.”

Those last few sentences vanquish every fear and concern and insecurity. My mother is wrong. It might be hard, but I’m not alone. I’m shielded behind a fortress of love and protection. They’d never let anyone hurt me. What could matter beyond that? We’ll figure the rest out. My teeth sink into my lip as I nod again.

He kisses my nose and nestles my face against his chest. “That’s my girl. We’re a team. Now and forever.” He palms my head, cheek resting upon my hair, lending a sweetness to this moment, this day, which is so needed. But Liam can’t leave any interaction without chiseling his signature jagged edge into it, so I shouldn’t be surprised when he rasps, “You have three minutes to strip bare, aside from a pair of heels, and meet me in your bedroom.”

I devolve into a fit of giggles because that’s about right. Of course he’s going to fuck me in my parents’ home while everyone waits for us downstairs. My laughter must make him believe I’m going to fight him though because he strengthens his hold on me.

“If you’re late or I hear one goddamn snarky word out of that beautiful mouth, I won’t hesitate to stuff you with my cock right out there, up against the balcony railing, until your filthy cries for more alert not only your parents, but the whole damn HOA that you’re my good little slut who loves to be defiled.” With that, he slaps me on the ass and swaggers away.

I’m just as depraved as him because that threat shoots a zing of elation through me. I don’t hesitate to obey. At this point, why fight it? It’s clear that lunacy is my new reality. And this is one of the main areas that makes it all worth it.

I bolt to my childhood bedroom, scurry into the bathroom, peel off my clothes, quickly freshen up, and shimmy into a pair of sexy black pumps from my closet. When I sashay out to him, he’s standing shirtless, jeans slung low on his hips, golden hair dusting his forehead in a delicious fuck-me shag. His rippling abs tense with a tease when he catches my eyes perusing them, and then he pumps his taut chest muscles beneath the ink that is so clearly a sketch of his deepest parts.

His dimple flashes as he whistles, eyes romping with a twinkle. “Fuck, baby girl. I may be a man destined for damnation, but who the hell cares when I get to sink into heaven every day? You’re a motherfucking dream.”

The smile that splits my face unfolds from the depths of every hope I’ve ever held. This life won’t be easy, but he’s mine. And he’s more. He sees me so clearly. Any other dark clouds can be brushed away.

It’s with that thought that my vision snags on a bar he’s now twirling. God only knows what the hell he’s going to do to me. Life with him will never be boring—that’s for sure.

“What ya got there?” I ask. The tentative nature of my query is undeniable, as is probably the wariness dressing my facial expression.

And my golden god chuckles darkly, which blasts a torrent of excitement and distress through me at once. “Where’s my daredevil girl?” he gibes. “The rock climber, canyoner, white water rafter, motorcycle enthusiast. You’re not scared of a spreader bar, are you, Carver?”

A taunt. A dare. And I’m soaked.

“Nope.” I pop the P and shake my head.

“There she is.” He winks and taps my dresser with the tip of the bar. “Over here. Face the mirror.”

I strut over, ignoring any apprehension still frolicking inside me. The height of the dresser hits a few inches below my chest, so when I stand and place my hands on it, Liam nudges me closer, my breasts pressing against my forearms.

“Hands stay on the dresser, or they get tied. Open for me,” he orders, tapping the inside of my thighs and guiding my legs apart to his desired width—a little wider than my shoulders. Crouching down, he fastens the straps onto my ankles and clicks the bar into place, so I’m frozen this way.

Bare. Open. Wet.

Ready and willing.

When he rises, one hand clutches the front of my throat while his fingers on the other peruse my opening. “So eager. My dirty girl is drenched for me.” He swirls my clit, spreading my arousal around and further up than I’m expecting.

A mild panic has me tensing. “What are you doing?”

His sinister smile and concentration on my backside tell me I already have my answer, even before he speaks. “You doubted me today. You doubted us—as a couple—who we are. Someday, that will stop. But until then, you need reminders.”

My mouth falls open to dispute what he said, but I did doubt us, I guess. Not entirely. But for fleeting spirals of thoughts that looped together into a mess of uncertainty.

So, instead, I ask, “How do you plan to remind me?” right as something cold, slick, and hard slips inside my virgin hole.

“Relax,” he croons into my hair while he glides what I assume to be a butt plug in and out of me. “I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

It’s small, creating a foreign sensation that doesn’t do too much for me, but the entirety of the scene bathes me in a tantalizing humiliation. I’m not sure how this became my vision of freedom, but Liam using me the way he likes is more invigorating than anything I’ve ever experienced. And the satisfied groan rumbling out of him is nothing short of salacious.

“Okay,” I whisper after a heavy exhale, and he smiles, our gazes locking in the mirror, his seductive dimple promising more to come.

He removes the plug, the loss unexpectedly uncomfortable, but quickly replaces it with another. This one’s larger, and I grunt through the insertion, so he slows.

“Be a good girl for me and let me in, Ace. This is to get you ready. It’s going to be my dick in a minute.”

I consider protesting, but choose a contrary move, pushing my ass out for more as a breath tumbles from my lungs.

His laugh wraps around me like a weighted blanket, assuaging all the overwhelming anxiety from earlier. “There’s my girl. That’s the spirit.”

He briefly fucks me with the larger plug, and my body starts to adjust and enjoy the intrusion, but then he switches gears and inserts a vibrator inside my pussy.

It fills me up so that I gasp from the sumptuous invasion, a velvety moan escaping me when I discover there’s also a small lip that rubs against my clit. He hasn’t even turned it on yet, but suddenly, I’m completely on board with … anything.

He bends away from me for a beat, and as I glance down at him, I see him emerging with two candles. Sliding them onto the dresser, he snicks open his Zippo and lights them.

“How romantic,” I quip.

“It’s not for ambience, Carver. You naked is all the goddamn ambience we need for romantic perfection.” He plants a kiss in my hair. “They’re massage candles. They won’t burn, but the wax will be streaking those divine tits.” In perfect synchronicity, on his final word, he reaches around to tweak both nipples, evoking another wispy moan from me.

My body is thrumming with excitement, and that titillating delirium is cascading down my legs. Maybe I shouldn’t be into this with my parents downstairs, but I’m here for it. So much that I can’t help but swivel my hips in search of more.

“So greedy, baby girl,” he teases. “Always so impatient for my cock.” Snickering arrogantly, he unfurls a demand. “You know how this works. Beg for what you want.”

Ordinarily, I’d contemplate screwing with him and tossing barbs back and forth, but I’m too worked up, so I fold, like a rookie card player who can’t bluff to save her life. No ace to smack down, but this move will lead to one hell of a win anyway.

“Please. I need you.”

After a few pumps of the butt plug, he finds my wanton eyes in the mirror. “What do you need, Ace? Tell me.”

I hear his zipper as I purr, “You, Liam. Inside me. Now. Fuck me, please.”

In a swift blink, the plug is gone, the vibrator is buzzing, Liam’s arm snakes around my waist to angle me just so, and he thrusts inside me. Slow but …

“Holy. Hell,” I breathe as he hisses similar sentiments and several expletives.

I’m so full.

Gloriously full.

And so heady.

But I can tell he’s not all the way in, and some discomfort is spreading, so I wince and tighten.

“Shh,” he coos, kissing my hair and gripping my hip. “You can take it. You’re doing so good. You can take more.”

Like always, his praise and encouragement unlock something inside me, unraveling my tension so that he glides in to reach his full seat, setting a pace that becomes not only bearable, but a rhythm of rhapsody.

His stubble scratches against my cheek as he yanks on my hair with a delectable sting, and all the sensations meld into a deluge of stimulation. Lifting a candle, he drips the wax across my breasts as I gasp and whimper.

It’s pain and pleasure, hot and cold, hard and soft in every direction.

“Look at you, baby. So gorgeous. So tight and perfect and mine.” His words float off to become the soundtrack of our union—one of those heavy beats that drown out all others. Vibrating through my bones and blood and veins.

Encircling my heart as it thumps in time.

My every nerve ending is firing, like that candle flickered onto a linen curtain and ignited the whole damn room with a whoosh. I’m engulfed in only him. The flames of Liam’s presence. No coherent thoughts remain. Just tactile sparks beckoning me to free fall.

And as Liam pistons his hips and my clit vibrates and the wax hardens and more splatters, those hazels I lose myself in so easily latch on to mine in the mirror.

“Do you get it yet? Do you see how beautifully we fit? Feel it?”

“Yes,” I pant.

In a single breath, he smacks my ass and tweaks my nipple, enhancing those all-encompassing flames. “Where? Where do you feel me?”

“Everywhere,” I rush out, marveling at the majesty of our reflection—both desperate for one another. “I feel you everywhere.”

“That’s right, Carver. You were fucking made for me,” he says on a punishing thrust that presses me into the dresser. “Every inch of this body is mine.”

Pump.

“This cunt.”

Thrust.

“This ass.”

Harder.

“Every goddamn cell.”

Slam.

“Every beat of your heart.”

Again.

His hand roves over my breasts and collarbone and neck, clutching my chin to ensure my gaze stays trained on him. “Every thought in your head. Every emotion.” He pistons his hips, punctuating each point with another jolting slam. “Your fears and laughs and tears and smiles. Even your rage.”

More.

“Mine.”

He swallows a ragged breath as he drives into me with a steady rhythm, his eyes swimming with so much intensity. So much sincerity and devotion and love. “No more games.” It’s an order and a plea. “No more second-guessing. It’s you and me, baby girl. No matter what happens. I want it all.”

He’s earned it. He’s everything. I do get it. There’s no me without him because he frees me to become. We can face anything together.

“You have it, Liam,” I pant right before I topple over the edge, proclaiming a winded, “I love you,” on the way.

“That’s my good fucking girl,” he praises, choking out a handful of vows as he plummets into ecstasy with me. “This isn’t just love, Ace. It’s more than that. We’re one now. My heart, my lungs—nothing works without you. My reason for breathing. For all eternity. You and me. One.”