8. CHapter 8
CHapter 8
Annie
I t’s completely dark outside as Carlton and I head out of the university, his hand around my upper arm as if I might try to escape. A long, black limo is waiting for us. I slow down as I see the driver emerge from the front, walking over to hold the door open for us.
“I didn’t realize we’d have company.”
“Is that a problem?” Then, with a grin, “Does it bother you to be seen with me?”
“It’s not that, it’s just…” I should probably be grateful that someone did witness me leave campus with him tonight, even though it doesn’t actually mean anything. He’s a Heathen King. It’s not like his chauffeur would risk telling on him if he—what do I even expect him to do? It’s not like he’d kill me.
Yet I stop at the door, overly aware I’m about to get in the car with a killer .
The memory of him slitting a guy’s throat right in front of me slams into my head. Then the one about him breaking those guys’ arms at the church, the men’s wails returning as a haunting echo. In response to my thoughts, Carlton gives me that million dollar smile of his.
“Starting to worry about who I really am, Lolita? I’m afraid it’s too late for such things.” He releases my arm only to wrap it around my shoulders, holding me against him like I’m in a cocoon. “Your time is up. There’s no running away now.”
I look up into his heartbreakingly handsome face. It’s always been there—the brutality, the grit. The possession that I now feel locking around me like an iron shackle around my neck.
“When was my time really up, Carlton?” I breathe, my gaze not leaving his. “Because tonight, you didn’t just pop out of nowhere. You weren’t on campus all day, yet you’ve been at the library for hours, watching me.”
His smile slowly fades, the angles of his face hardening.
“I tried to stay away, Lolita. ”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” I whisper.
“This will.”
He shoves me into the car and I slide over the leather seat, Carlton filling the space next to me a moment later. The chauffeur is still on his way back to the front seat when Carlton expertly gathers my wrists in one hand and swivels me around, the leather creaking under the backs of my thighs. Just as the driver gets into his seat, a pair of handcuffs snaps around my wrists.
“Is this really necessary?” I protest.
“Very much so.” Carlton swipes his hand over the controls on the side of his door, causing the partition between driver’s cabin and the rest of the car to slide up. Within seconds, we’re completely insulated.
The car pulls away, Carlton’s eyes slowly moving down my body.
“Where are we going?”
The corner of his mouth curls up with a promise. “I’m taking you home like the gentleman I am.”
I rattle my cuffs. “Then why does this feel like a kidnapping? ”
“Don’t tempt me,” he rumbles, and fuck my life, my panties cream.
I open my mouth to spit out a retort, but the words lodge in my throat when he reaches under my skirt, his fingers ripping into my panties. I yelp as he tears them off me.
“When I saw you on camera, wearing this short skirt at the library in the middle of the night, I couldn’t help wondering—why would you do that? Why would go looking like you’re there to get fucked if it wasn’t with the intention of seeing someone.”
“First of all, it wasn’t the middle of the night.” Fuck, I can barely control my need to pant. “Second of all, I wasn’t there to see anyone. I didn’t know Patrick would be there and besides, it should be clear by now that he wasn’t there for me .”
“Ah, yes.”
“Third of all,” I press, using the chance, “the skirt almost reaches my knees. It’s far from inviting.” Paired with my white shirt and my pigtails, my outfit could pass for a uniform more than anything else. “Not that there are any outfits that invite anyone to do anything. Only a plain, clear invitation does. ”
“Not for men with a questionable moral code. Men like me.” His fingers brush through the slit of my wet pussy, and I jump with a tiny cry. “Men who would actually enjoy forcing you.”
“Would you enjoy forcing me?” I say breathlessly.
His jaw tics, but the promise in his eyes deepens. “Only because I know that you still want me.”
I stick out my chin. “How can you be so sure? Your rejection was direct. Desire tends to die when the element of hope is ripped away.”
A shadow falls over his smoldering irises, making me press myself against the leather seat despite the fact that I am crushing my cuffed arms against it. It’s like a demon from hell is staring right into my soul. The cuffs bite into my skin, the muscles in my arms going taut. A hum leaves his chest as his fingers slide deeper between the lips of my pussy.
“Your pussy is telling a different story.” He tilts his head to the side. “Now which of the two is lying? Your mouth or your cunt?” His mouth curls into a sexy grin that takes my breath away. “One of them is clearly a liar, but I’ll fuck them both anyway. ”
I tighten my thighs to keep my arousal from betraying me, but the scent rises in the car. The growing smugness on his face tells me he picked it up, too.
Opening a compartment under the seat lining the opposite car wall, he retrieves two new pairs of handcuffs. I wiggle away from him, but only manage to push myself into a corner.
“I can work with that position perfectly well,” he says, grabbing one ankle.
I flex to fight him, but then all he does is gently slide my sneaker and my sock off my foot. He does the same with the other one before a cuff snaps around my ankle, the metal sending a cold bite all the way up to my chin.
He holds my gaze with that irresistibly seductive look while he secures the cuff to the handgrip on one door, then cuffs the other ankle and does the same to the other door. I end up with my legs spread and cuffed to the doors, my hands bound behind my back. With my ripped panties and my pigtails, I must be quite a slutty sight .
Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, Carlton produces his phone and holds it up, snapping a few pictures. He swipes through them, then his eyes lift to meet mine.
“I thought you might like to see yourself.” He kneels between my spread legs, a block of power and intimidation, and holds up the phone. It’s all I can do to keep from squirming against the leather seat as much as my restraints will allow when I see myself bound, my legs cuffed apart, and my pussy barely obscured by the tethers of my panties.
“Now there’s no lie your mouth can tell that your pussy won’t betray.” Still holding up his phone, he runs his fingers through the creamed slit of my pussy.
“Hmmm, seems like this pretty little cunt is ready to be pleasured.” He sinks a finger inside, causing my back to arch. He pushes deep, causing discomfort but filling me so fucking good. “Or would you like me to use it for my pleasure?”
“What if I say no?” I manage, but my voice is shaking.
“No, as in you won’t let me, or you wouldn’t enjoy it? ”
I let loose a shaky little laugh. “Are you asking for consent?”
“I’m asking what you want right now.” He pushes so deep that I can feel his knuckles against my ass. “And don’t dare lie to me.”
I lick my lips, my upper body arching more. “What happens if I do lie?”
His tone darkens. “Just remember who you’d be lying to.” He eases out his finger, giving me some relief only to push two back inside, my body arching completely away from the back of my seat. My arms scream, the cuffs biting tightly into my wrists.
“You really like to make it hurt, don’t you?” I pant, finally looking at him. “That’s one of your main kinks?”
He keeps those eyes on me, like smoldering hot tar that singes my veins. Everything in me aches, and I want nothing more than to be his slave.
“You’re messing with my head, Annie Jones,” he rumbles, his voice like velvet-clad iron. “The things I want to do to you…”
Slowly, he bends down to kiss the inside of my thigh, keeping those unblinking dark eyes on me. Irresistible lust ignites, and he damn well knows it. He traces slow, sensual kisses upwards until his mouth is close to the apex of my thighs. He stops, smirking and hovering right above where his fingers start to pump harder into me. His thumb finds my clit, gently stroking through my cream and ripping a whimper from me.
“Your pussy sure seems to be having a good time. But if you want me to stop…” he slows down, ripping a hiss of frustration from me. With the sensation that’s been building up, the loss is painful, and my core clenches against it.
“All you have to do is give me the green light, and I’ll make you a very happy woman tonight. But keep in mind—” His voice drops to a hellishly deep ripple. “Once you do give me the green light, there will be no turning back. I’ll take you places, and you’ll follow.”
I crave the handsome bastard, and everything in me betrays that. My heated cheeks, my flushed chest that he now bares as he slowly unbuttons my shirt. Now that he’s got me exactly where he wanted me, he’s starting to lay out the fine print, knowing that I’ll agree to anything .
And I do.
“I’ll follow.” The words are quiet when they leave my mouth, but I must be staring at him like a horny lunatic because he gives me an amused chuckle.
It’s like he’s having fun watching me burn for his touch, for the attention of those eyes that I craved so much. His fingers keep that slow pace inside my pussy but his mouth lowers, his eyes trapping mine as his lips make contact with my clit.
I hiss, my buttocks clenching. His tongue flicks out, stroking once, twice. Slowly, like he’s savoring me. My ass clenches harder, trying to bring me even closer to that mouth, to the source of pleasure. His low chuckle sends vibrations through my pussy, electrifying me.
“Holy fuck,” I cry out, throwing my head back.
He chuckles at my reactions, his fingers gliding through my growing wetness, amping up the pleasure pooling in my core, ready to explode. I throw myself against the back of the leather seat, my arms aching, and I’m pretty sure the cuffs are drawing blood, but I couldn’t care less .
Exquisite sensations run through me, and I flex my legs against the build-up, seeking to meet every stroke of his tongue and every thrust of his fingers. While scheming to get myself into that ritual, I watched advice videos from sex influencers, and many of them said that men tend to pump like crazy, thinking that it gives women the same pleasure that pumping gives them, when it actually doesn’t. But Carlton sure knows exactly what he’s doing with his fingers and his tongue and damn, even the heat of his body. This is a game I lost before we even started playing. The dam breaks, and I come in a flood of pleasure, screaming out his name, my ankles straining in the cuffs.
There’s no way that partition is insulated enough that the chauffeur didn’t hear me. I’m heaving as I come down from my orgasm, my entire body turning soft, my arms screaming at the weight of my body slackening onto them. I’m hanging with my feet up in the air, cuffed to the sides of the car, my pussy exposed, and my pigtails a mess. Carlton wipes his mouth and takes out his phone to snap another picture of me. Of the complete whorish mess that I must be, my cheeks on fire and my chest heaving .
“You’re such a work of art, Lolita,” he muses in that intoxicating baritone of his. “I’ve never felt more like an artist than I do now.” He takes another snap and then another.
I flex my legs as much as I can, shamelessly lifting my ass to give him an even better view of my pussy.
“If you think this is going to keep me fucking compliant, you’re wrong,” I say in the most seductive voice I can muster. This isn’t the moment to show any weakness, even if I’m totally at this handsome bastard’s feet. “You can show those to the entire campus, it won’t make me—”
“You think I’d show pictures of your pussy to anyone?” He hikes up an eyebrow, and the words lodge in my throat.
He tosses his phone on the back seat next to me and starts unbuckling his belt. By the time he slides it off and doubles it in his hand, holding it like a whip, fear and excitement run through me like fire and ice.
“I broke Heathen rules to keep this pussy from the eyes of other men.” His voice thickens, his whole body oozing threat. He grabs the belt loop with his other hand and snaps it. I wince at the sharp sound. “I started a war with another King for you. And you think I’d ever let another man get an eyeful?” Something shifts in his dark eyes, like tectonic plates squeezing out lava. “Or is it that you would like other men to see you like this?”
“That’s insane.” Leather rips through the air, landing with a slap on my pussy. I yelp, my legs flexing, the cuffs around my ankles tightening. Blackness creeps in from the edges of my vision, and when the next slap lands, the black turns to red. My body tightens, tears stinging my eyes.
“Why would you offer your cunt to my camera like that if you thought I was going to pass those pictures around?”
“For the same reason you took the pictures, you bastard,” I cry out, though my clit throbs with craving. The pain only adds to the pleasure that flooded me just minutes ago, taking it to a new level. Fuck, I never imagined such a thing existed. I crave more of his leather slaps on my soaked cunt, and I’m not beyond provoking him for it.
“I wanted to give you a good time when you look at them in the future. You know, in that future where you’re married to Rosalind, and all I am is a distant memory.” I stare at him provokingly from under my eyebrows, my pussy throbbing. “One day, when I’ll be far away from here, and married, too.”
Those angular features sharpen into a ruthless glare. I sigh, my pussy creaming harder. I want this angry god to lose it, to anger-fuck me.
“Married,” he repeats, the calm in his voice as threatening as thunder. He cracks that leather belt between his hands before he whips my pussy again. I throw my head back, sweat breaking out all over me. “You’ll never be married, Annie Jones. Unless, of course, you want that poor man’s blood on your hands.”
Through the tears blurring my vision, I see him undo his pants and grab his dick. I blink the tears away to get an eyeful, tattoos covering its entire length up to the engorged head. The belt still in one hand, he grabs his cock at the root with the other, kneels between my parted legs and thrusts into me in one go.
I hiss through my teeth as he fills me painfully, going all the way in. My arms strain behind my back, but I find no mercy in those smoldering eyes as he pulls back—not all the way—and shoves it back in, relishing how this gives me pain and pleasure at the same time. His lips harden as he holds back, but I don’t want him to be able to resist me. I clench my buttocks to meet him, my overflowing pussy tightening around him greedily.
“Ah, fuck, woman.” He drops the leather belt and wraps his hand around my neck.
Pleasure flares in my core. All that power inside and around me, the madness of a Heathen King, it opens the door to new delights that soak my brain and narrow the entire world down to him. Everything in my body screams yes. I want more of his madness. All of him. I want the jungle snake that is Carlton Wilde to drain the life out of me and drown me in pleasure while at it.
“You are art, Annie Jones,” he growls. “ My art. Mine to carve. Mine to consume.” His grip tightens around my throat, restricting my intake of air as he increases his pace, thrusting harder and harder. The restraints bite into my ankles as he pumps me, ramming me into the buttery leather seat. “You’re off limits to all the others, and I’ll make fucking sure that everybody knows it. And it’s true—I will get married, and it’s not fair, but you never will.”
My vision darkens while my focus narrows down to him, the burning look in his eyes and the sensations he produces in my body. His smell and his intensity combine to create the most heady experience, an orgasm mounting inside me and threatening to shatter me to the bone. I gasp for air, fully aware of one thing—his propensity for enacting carnage if I don’t take his threat seriously.
“Are you on the birth control I had delivered to you?” he rasps, and I nod as far as his grip will let me. “Good girl.” His voice electrifies my skin as he thrusts with abandonment, a devastating orgasm tearing into my very bones.
Watching Carlton lose it on me, fucking me like there’s no tomorrow while choking me, fills me with sensations my body might not withstand a second time. I call out his name, wanting him to destroy my pussy.
“Fuck, Annie, I’d kill for this tiny little cunt of yours,” Carlton grunts while releasing his cum inside me, his big dick tearing into my cunt. “And I’d die fucking you.”
The pleasure oozes out through all my pores, filling the limo with the scent of it. My cheeks burn and my nipples hurt from how much they’ve hardened, which isn’t lost on Carlton. He releases my throat, allowing me to take in a few greedy breaths and the oxygen to rush back to my head before he grabs my jaw and crushes my lips with his.
His tongue enters my mouth forcefully. He kisses me deeply, his tongue madly tangling with mine. We moan into each other’s mouths while his moves slow down to a sensual grind as if he wants to make sure that every last drop of his cum stays inside, his hand traveling down my neck to my chest. Next thing I know, he rips my shirt open, the buttons flying off.
I gasp, but before I can even think, he pushes down my bra and frees my painfully hardened tits. He kisses a deliciously sensual trail down my chest, finally giving my nipples the attention they crave. His hot lips close around one, his tongue swirling around it. He sucks it into his mouth while his large hand claims possession of my other breast, and I can’t help but squirm with need to touch those brutally handsome features as they pleasure my body.
“I’ll never get enough of your mouth on my skin,” I declare, my eyes rolling back in my head. I’ve never been with another man, but I’m pretty sure no amount of lovemaking with any other man will ever come close to this.
Something raps against the tinted windows, making me jump.
The driver clears his voice. “We’re here, Sir.”
Shit, how long has he been parked outside? Has he been waiting for the sounds of sex to die down until he made his presence known? And when the hell did the car stop? The restraints on my feet rattle as I try to move, but Carlton takes his time kissing his way up the inside of my thigh toward my calf. He doesn’t even bother to reply to our driver as he unfastens the first cuff.
My muscles are sore, and yet nothing in my body protests as he keeps planting kisses on my skin before he puts one foot down and then does the same with the next one. Then, still on his knees between my legs, he locks eyes with me, and a powerful feeling overwhelms my heart. I can hardly breathe.
His eyes blacken as an intense emotion seems to take over him, too. I’d give anything to be able to read him, but he doesn’t give me the chance. He wraps those big arms around me, pulling me into his large chest and closing that amazing mouth on mine. I feel him working on my handcuffs, unlocking them with a click and dropping them on the seat, his hands traveling up my forearms and bringing my hands between us. When he breaks the kiss I instinctively follow him, wanting to keep our mouths connected. And the bastard knows it, that’s why he gives me that million dollar smile of his.
“Remember, Annie,” he says in a voice as seductive as his dashing smile, “you belong to me. The sooner you accept it, the better.” He lifts my hand up to his mouth and kisses it, maintaining eye contact.
Letting go of my hand, he pulls my bra back over my tits, then goes on to wrap my shirt around me, sliding his belt around my waist and securing it to make sure it stays put. Then he tucks my feet back into my socks and my sneakers, taking the moment after to run his gaze up my legs before he leans forward and traps me between his arms.
“I have a surprise for you.” His lips pull into that smile no one can resist, making me melt. “It’s waiting for you on your bed, and it will show you exactly why you must submit to me.”
“Submit to you?” I repeat, hating that I don’t hate it.
Carlton keeps his smile on, but he stares at me in that way that makes grown men shit their pants.
“It’s the only way to keep this rider of hell on a leash.”
With that, he raps his knuckles against the tinted window, and the driver opens the door. Carlton gets out first, then holds out his hand for me. I hesitate, and not just because I’m a wet, spent mess with messed-up pigtails, but also because I could bet a million dollars right now that all the girls are staring from the windows of the sorority house.
“Are you trying to make a show of this?” I ask between my teeth. His hand swallows mine, gently steadying me.
“You mean am I showing off my work of art? You bet your pretty little ass that I am.” Then, bending to my ear as he leads me towards the house. “The pretty little ass I’m going to fuck with my cock really soon.”
I stumble over my own feet, and I’d probably fall flat on my face if he didn’t hold me upright.
Once we’re on the porch, he kisses my hair, pulling me into his chest. I sigh and close my eyes, breathing in the scent imbued into his black shirt.
“I hope you like my gift, Annie,” he murmurs, and I swear I could listen to him read the phone book. Dropping his arms off of me, he digs into his jeans pocket and produces a key—the key to the sorority house. I gawk at it, but don’t even bother asking how he got his hands on it. He’s Carlton Wilde, there’s nothing he can’t get if he wants it.
He unlocks the door and pushes it open, then takes a step back on the porch, staring at me with those intense eyes. I walk inside, my scalp prickling from the foreboding promise in his stare.
“Won’t you come in for a drink or something?” I say while angling my knees inward like a schoolgirl, feeling awkward as hell.
“Do you really want me to? ”
I look inside the house, at the staircase, the dresser by the wall with the vase of flowers, to the back of the house where the kitchen is, and where daylight usually floods in. But this is the dead of night. A shiver runs through me, and it’s not lost on Carlton.
“I don’t know,” I reply. “I mean, it’s the middle of the night.”
“On second thought, maybe it’s a good idea for you friends to find out about us.”
I swallow hard, but step in his way, my hands up.
“Wait.”
He stops, hiking up an eyebrow at me. I motion around at the dark house.
“I’m really not sure about this.”
“What’s the real problem here, Lolita?” he demands. “Did you talk about other boys with your friends? Do they expect someone else?”
I roll my eyes and step away from him, but he grabs my arm, pulling me back into his body and kicking the door shut with his foot.
“I think I will meet your friends tonight.”
“Carlton—”
“I insist. ”
A light comes on, and Carlton’s face becomes clear in the soft glow.
“Annie?” I don’t know whether to be grateful or terrified about Mireille’s presence, but Carlton is delighted if the appearance of that smile is any indication. He looks up over my head at Mireille, his large hands turning me around by my shoulders to face her, too. His hands wrap around my upper arms, pulling me against his muscled body.
Shit. Mireille isn’t alone. Cecilia’s face pops up over her shoulder before another few messy-haired heads with beady eyes follow. They stare at an obviously-just-fucked version of me, the perpetrator standing behind me, obviously proud of himself.
Flashing them that irresistible smile.
Jealousy punches into my stomach.
“Ladies.” His baritone vibrates against my back. “I’m sorry to disturb you at this hour. But, as you surely understand, I had to make sure that your friend here got home safely.”
I shift on my feet as all their eyes run down my body in obvious shock. Mireille comes down the stairs, squinting as if needing to see better .
“Then Annie thought she’d offer me a drink, but now that you’re all up I think it’s better if I leave.” Cunning seeps into his voice. “I’m sure you have a lot to talk about.” He laughs. “Now, don’t look at me like that. Makes me feel like I’m not the boyfriend you expected.”
“Can you blame us?” Mireille asks, stopping on the bottom stair and crossing her arms over her silk-robed chest. “Unless my eyes are playing tricks on me, you’re Carlton Wilde, Heathen, King, and you’re engaged to be married to Rosalind—”
“Being a Heathen King has its downsides,” he cuts her off.
“Like getting to have two women?” I say, unable to press a lid down on the jealousy I feel. Seeing how the other girls eye him up like he’s a piece of candy isn’t doing me any favors. “Or maybe more?”
“Indeed,” he answers. “But, as it turns out, I only want you. The gift waiting for you on your bed will make it clear just how badly.” Then, lower, “And how far I will go to keep you.”
He grips my chin with his fingers and closes his mouth on mine in a soft kiss. When he breaks it, he gives me that dashing smile. “Feel free to show your friends, too. Maybe it will help them see how serious I am about you.”
He steps back, putting distance between us that makes me wince. His eyes run over the stunned girls assembled on the stairs, all of whom seem to have swallowed their tongues.
“Ladies,” he says before he kisses my hand and exits the house, the door closing softly behind him.
The air leaves my lungs in a whoosh, and I’d probably collapse to the floor if it weren’t for the sense of urgency, pushing me to action. I hurry to the stairs as fast as my exhausted body will take me.
“What the hell was that?” Mireille demands as I walk past her, holding onto the banister with both my hands to haul myself up the stairs. The other girls move out of my way, but keep following me, too.
I throw the door of my room open, my eyes falling on what’s waiting on my bed.
A big black box with a beautiful red rose on top of it.
I stop breathing.
Murmurs and gasps explode behind me .
That is definitely the most impressive rose I’ve ever seen. Deeply red, like blood, its petals lush and abundant and yet too dark at the edges, as if it’s dying. Tragically beautiful, that’s what it is.
“Aren’t you going to open it? The box, I mean.”
I suck in a breath as I realize just how close Mireille is standing. I glance over my shoulder at Cecilia clutching a pillow to her chest, gawking at the flower and the black velvet box.
I return my attention to it, and my heartbeat climbs into my throat.
It looks just like a jewelry box. It’s too big to contain a ring, and definitely too square for it to be a necklace or a bracelet. My eyes narrow as I begin to fear its content.
“Come on, we’re dying here,” one of the girls urges, shoving me forward.
I walk slowly, squinting at the rose as I try to put my finger on why it’s so special. Why the petals are much darker at the edges, and why it looks like that darkness is spreading like a disease toward the flower’s core.
I pick it up, grabbing it carefully by the stem. Its perfume is strong, the scent of a mature flower, but my nose creases as it catches a whiff of something foul. I lay it down on my pristine white sheets, and pick up the box. I stare at it, remembering the dark promise in Carlton’s eyes, a chill running down my spine.
“Goddammit Jones, fucking open it already,” Mirielle pushes. She’s so close that I can feel her breathing in my hair.
I position my thumbs under the lid and push it open.
Then shock hits.
A cacophony of screams erupts behind me, degenerating into complete chaos within seconds.
There’s no more denying the obvious truth.
I fell in love with a monster.