by BL Mute
Nothing about what we’re doing is sweet, but I wouldn’t expect anything less from Carter.
Carter isn’t sweet. He isn’t innocent. He’s dark and unpredictable. Unapologetic and mean. He’s all the things any woman would hate but I find myself falling in love with.
He spins and walks us into his room, never breaking our kiss. We’re nothing but fumbling hands, sloppy kisses with teeth, and shallow breaths. We’re everything I need to forget about everything that just happened.
As he sets me on my feet, I break our kiss and reach behind my neck and unclasp the locket, then throw it onto his nightstand. He starts to undo his belt aggressively, like he can’t move fast enough and free himself from the only barrier between us, and it turns me on. Seeing the complete want written all over his face, swimming in the depths of his eyes.
I lift my shirt over my head and throw it to the floor, then wiggle out of my shorts. Before I can hook my fingers into my panties and slide those down too, he stalks forward quickly and drops to his knees in front of me. His hands grab one side of the thin lacey fabric and rip them before moving to the other side to do the same. I practically turn to putty right there in front of him, and I know he sees it. The small smirk on his lips tells me so.
With his eyes still locked to mine, he leans forward, gripping my thighs, and juts his tongue out. The warm wetness spreads me and hits my clit. A chill runs down my spine, and goose bumps erupt all over my body, but it isn’t enough. I need more.
I shimmy my way back further until the backs of my knees hit the edge of his bed. I fall down, breaking his hold on me in the process, then hook my heels on the edge and spread my legs as far as they can go.
“Fuck,” he hisses, staring at my exposed pussy.
I feel vulnerable, but when his eyes flash back to mine, it’s washed away. I’ve never had anyone look at me the way Carter does. I can’t even explain what I’m seeing—all I know is I like it, and I want to see it all the time. I love his want for me. His need for me.
When I smile at him, he buries his head between my thighs, almost like he needed my permission to devour me in the most delicious way. I let myself get lost in the feeling, the complete paradise he’s serving me on the silver platter that’s his tongue.
He licks and laps, and with each stroke, I come more and more undone. I’m ready to explode, and he hasn’t even fucked me, but just as my climax almost reaches its peak, he stops. I open my eyes that have been screwed so tightly shut and look down, but he’s gone.
Before I can even question where he went to myself, he reappears in the doorway holding a cup and the belt from his jeans. “I want to make you come, Bunny, but first I want to hurt you a little bit.”
I could have got on board with the first half of his sentence, but the second half scared me. No one has ever said they want to hurt me.
“You said you trust me, right?”
I swallow a lump in my throat. I never said yes out loud, but I nod anyway, curious as to what he wants to do.
“Good. Scoot up.” He nudges his chin up the direction of his bed.
I turn and do as he says, placing my body direct in the center of his dark sheets. Every ounce of happiness and paradise is now gone, and only fear is in its place, but I can’t make myself move. I can’t even make my mouth mumble words.
I watch him round his bed until he’s at the foot, and then he places both knees on the mattress and starts coming for me. There is a new look in his eyes this time though, and it isn’t what I saw before. This… this is dangerous. And exhilarating.
As he moves, the contents of the cup move, sending a light clinking sound out around us. When he stops between my legs for the second time today, he runs the cup along the inside of my thigh, and I jump.
“Ice?”
He just smiles in response before popping a single cube into his mouth.
I want to ask him what it’s for or what he’s going to do with it, but the words die in my throat as his mouth clamps onto my pussy again, this time sending a different kind of shiver down my spine. I want to hate it, but I also want to get lost in the feeling, but just like moments ago, he stops.
This vicious cycle of turning me on, then turning me off, then turning me back on is making me dizzy, and quite frankly, pissing me off. “What the fuck?”
He raises back to his knees with a wicked smile and sets the cup of ice on his nightstand. “There she is. The feisty bitch I lo—” He cuts himself off before letting the words fall out.
I’m so in shock from what I think I almost heard, I barely notice him climbing up my body and tying my hands to the headboard with his belt. As he pulls the end of the leather, it bites the sensitive skin around my wrists.
“Carter, that hurts.”
“I know.” His smile never falls.
If this is the extent of the pain he plans to give me, I could handle it. Shit, I’ve handled worse. Like Mac smacking my ass. I quickly push those thoughts down, because right now it isn’t about Mac, and I don’t want it to be. I want to keep myself enclosed in the kinky, fucked-up bubble Carter and I are in.
I release a deep breath and tell myself to relax as he moves back down my body, his lips and teeth marking a trail as he goes. When he makes it to my hips, he reaches out to his side and clasps the cup again. This time, instead of popping the ice into his mouth, he fishes out two cubes and lays one on each of my nipples.
Instantly, they pebble under the cold. It isn’t too bad at first, but within seconds, they start to burn. I try to voice it, but Carter doesn’t give me a chance. Bringing the cup to his lips, he shakes another cube into his mouth, then dives back to my pussy.
The stinging around my wrists and on my nipples is almost nonexistent because of the pleasure he’s exhuming from me. I thrust at his face, wanting more, needing more, but all it seems to do is fuel his torture.
Every time my mound raises to meet his face harder, or the ice cubes slip from either nipple, he bites the inside of my thigh, resulting in me crying out. At this point, I don’t know if it’s from pain or pleasure. Both are mixed into a delicious cocktail of shame and wrongness, but I don’t even care. Right in this very moment with Carter, I feel free.
“I’m going to fuck you with this inside,” he remarks, shaking a new ice cube into his hand, leaving my clit swollen and aching while the rest of my lady bits beg to come.
I don’t even protest because at this point, he could tell me he was going to light me on fire, and I wouldn’t care as long as I could come. I need to come.
He runs it up and down my slit, and I shiver. I can feel it melting, sending cold water streaks down my leg, but it feels so good. I close my eyes and bite my lip as he lines it up with my hole and pushes it inside of me.
It’s cold at first, almost too cold, but the heat from my need quickly extinguishes it, turning it into nothing more than another thing inside of me as Carter lines himself up and slams into me.
The sensation is too much, too quick. I can feel the cube shrinking by the second as he thrusts, but it’s still there. It goes deeper and deeper, touching me in places I’ve never been touched as he moves in and out of me.
I moan and I scream, and I can feel his cock get harder inside of me. Both my pleasure and my pain seem to turn him on.
He moves one hand to grip my hands around the belt to steady himself, then uses the other to pinch my already sore nipple. And that’s all I needed. It sends me over the edge, but not the same edge as earlier with all of my anger and sadness. This is a new edge. An edge I wouldn’t mind jumping off over and over again if he let me.
“Carter!” I wail, my legs convulsing around him.
I can feel his body tense, and his grip on my wrists tighten around the belt before he pulls himself out of me and comes all over my stomach. Spurts of hot cum fall onto me and fight away the chills that have been lingering since all the ice.
When his body falls next to mine, I don’t even remember why I was mad at him in the first place.
I don’t even remember him getting up and cleaning his seed from my belly, or him putting me in one of his shirts. And I definitely don’t remember him crawling back in bed beside me and falling asleep.
Not until the next morning when Mac’s booming voice wakes us up.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CARTER
As soon as I hear his voice, I know I’m fucked. It was stupid to think we had all the time he said when they left. And it was stupid of me to let Lydia sleep in my bed. The whole thing was just fucking stupid, and now I know I’ll pay the price.
I open my eyes and act none the wiser. God forbid I act like a scared little pussy in front of Claire and make her start questioning things. Mac would just make my life even more of a living hell.
When my gaze finds his, I almost wish it hadn’t. I can tell he’s pissed as he stares at the tangle of limbs that are me and Lydia. His nostrils are flaring, his fists ball up and release over and over, and his chest heaves with controlled breaths.
“Lydia, go to your room,” he says calmly. Too calmly.
Without question, she does as he says as Claire smiles at her retreating back. “How cute is this, honey! They’re still so close and care about one another. I think my teeth are aching from the sweetness,” she coos with the cheesiest grin.
Fuck. Shut up, Claire. You’re only making things worse.
I don’t voice the words out loud, but fuck do I want to. Mac is already pissed, and it seems he, Lydia, and I are the only ones to notice. Claire is in her own little happy bubble that unfortunately doesn’t exist for anyone else.
“So cute, sweetie. But we have to remember they aren’t kids anymore. They’re young adults with urges.” Mac tries to throw anything at her to make her stop boasting about how fucking cute we are.
Her eyes practically bulge from her sockets with his words as her mouth drops open. “Malcolm! I don’t think this is a discussion that needs to happen in front of them. Besides, Lydia is a good girl. She would never do such a thing with her stepbrother.”
Mac and I both scoff under our breaths like we have the same thought. If only Claire knew just how much she’s done with not only her stepbrother, but her stepfather too—she’d probably have an aneurism.
He nods in defeat, and I know it’s only because he won’t turn into the devil I know him to be with Claire. He agrees so he doesn’t start an argument and end up punching her face in like he used to do to Mom. He has it too good here.
“You’re right. I’m sorry, sweetie. Forget I even said anything, okay?” He grips her by the shoulders and gives her the fakest smile I’ve ever seen, but she eats that shit up.
“Don’t worry. We don’t have to bring it up again.” She smiles back.
I almost want to puke with the display, but instead, I ask a question I know I’ll pay for later. “I thought you all would be gone for three days. What happened?”
I look to Claire for an answer, but I can still feel Malcolm’s eyes burning a hole in the side of my face with his hot, angry gaze.
“Well, turns out it was the perfect deal. We didn’t need to amend anything, so we signed, had dinner, then decided to fly back this morning. Didn’t want to leave you kids too long.” She winks like she’s indicating we wouldn’t survive without them when it’s quite the opposite.
“Ah. Well, I’m glad you all are back, but I need to get ready for work. I’ll see you at dinner.”
Claire nods, then grabs my dad by the bicep and pulls him out of my room. With the little stunt he pulled—even though she said it wouldn’t have to be brought up again—I’m almost positive she still wants to talk about it, which buys me and Lydia at least a few minutes.
As the door closes behind them, I rush to my bathroom door and throw it open, then sprint into Lydia’s room. She’s pacing, chewing her nails, and looks absolutely terrified. “Carter,” she starts when she notices me. “We’re so fucked. That pissed him off so bad.”
I nod and step closer to her, then place my hands on her shoulders to stop her. “I know, but listen. If we both tell him nothing happened, he’ll have no choice but to believe it.”
She lets out a deranged laugh and throws her head back. “You really think he’s going to believe nothing happened when he found me in your bed?”
I shrug. She’s right. He won’t believe it, but at least it could maybe bide us some time to figure shit out and put my plan into action. “Until he has some solid proof, he isn’t going to do shit other than try and coax the truth from us. So, just tell him nothing happened while we get what we need.”
“And what is that?” She throws her hands up. I know she’s frustrated and scared, and fuck, I am too, but I’m doing my best to keep it together for her sake. If everything works out and my plan plays out how I have it formed in my head, we should be golden.
“First and foremost, we need to get Bradley on it with Mac’s computer. You need to call Carmen and tell her we need that help she promised you.”
“Okay. And what is Bradley supposed to do?” I can see her shoulders relax and her tone get softer as she calms down and focuses on something other than what just happened.
“He’s going to plant some fucked-up shit on it. Maybe kiddy porn or something. Something with enough of a bang to send him away for a good while.”
“Whoa.” She holds up her hands and backs away from me. “I’m all for getting Mac out of the picture, but ruining his life over a lie? I don’t know about that.”
I scrub a hand up my face and push it into my hair. “Lydia, you don’t see all of Mac. You get the semi-good parts of him, but I don’t. I never have. Sending him to prison—no matter what it takes—is the only way I’m ever going to escape him. I can’t just leave now that I’m eighteen. There will always be something holding me to him, or him holding something over my head. This way—with my plan—I won’t have to worry. I will actually be able to sleep at night without wondering when he’s going to barge into my room and beat my ass.”
From the look on her face, I don’t think she was expecting so much honesty. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting it either. I’ve never told anyone my secrets or how I really feel when it comes to Mac other than I hate him. I’ve never felt comfortable enough to open up to anyone about… about my fear.
But with Lydia, it seems almost easy. I’m not sure if it’s because I know what she fears too and one of her deepest darkest secrets, or if it’s really just her as a person without all I know. Regardless, it’s an almost comforting feeling. Something I haven’t felt in a very, very long time.
“Okay,” she finally breathes, unshed tears filling her eyes.
“Okay,” I reply. “We need to go to work and act like everything is fine. Do you understand? Because Mac is like a fucking rabid dog. He can smell the fear and will thrive on it. Don’t give him that.”
She inhales a drastic breath through her nose as she nods vigorously and repeats herself. “Okay.”
“I’m serious. Be the feisty little bitch I know you are.” I smile, acting a lot more confident than I feel about this whole thing.
Her eyes catch mine as she gives me a weak smile in return, and I know what she’s thinking because I’m thinking it too.
Those three little words that almost slipped yesterday.
I push the thoughts away and continue telling her my plan. “We’re also going to gather some dirt in case the whole ‘planting shit on his computer’ doesn’t work.”
“Like what? He’s too careful around me because he knows I recorded him before. I’m sure he’s the same with you.”
I nod. “You’re right. But there is one secret he has that I’ve been keeping to myself for years, and now we can use it.” She looks at me with questions swimming in her blue orbs. “He visits a place that would be frowned upon by your mom. And the lawyer who drew up the prenup papers.”
“So basically, if we can’t get him in prison, you’ll ruin his marriage instead, leaving him with nothing more than what he had before he married my
mom?”
“Yep.”
“But what about you? What would you do then?”
“You know how you said we could run away?”
Her face lights up the slightest bit. “You’d run away with me?”
I chuckle. Like that’s even a question. I’d run to the ends of the earth with Lydia if she’d let me; I just don’t know how to tell her that. “I’d have something on him so he wouldn’t chase me, so yeah. I’d run with you.”
She bites her now wobbling lip and closes the small distance between us. Her arms wrap around my neck, and I savor the feeling, wishing I could stay locked in her embrace forever. But forever can’t start until Mac is handled, so I push her away and place a soft kiss on her forehead.
“Remember, Bunny. Act natural and go with the lie.” She nods with conviction. “Now go get ready for work. I’ll see you there.”
Another nod from her, and I head back into my room to do the same.
CHAPTER THIRTY
LYDIA
If you asked me how Carter and I got to the point we are at, I couldn’t tell you. One minute we were kids, the next we were angry teens, and now? Now we seem to be young adults tolerating each other. Helping each other. Hell, maybe even loving each other, even if neither of us will admit it.
Since I’ve been at work, I haven’t run into Carter, and I’m actually thankful. I don’t think I would be able to keep my pathetic excuse for bravado in place if I saw him here. I would crumple like wet paper at his feet and beg him to do all the lying I couldn’t.
When I stop in front of Mac’s door for our “business management training,” I take a moment to send Carmen a quick text telling her I need to talk to her and will call when I’m off. I don’t wait for a reply from her because I’ll be damned if I keep Mac waiting, especially after the shit this morning.
As I push the door open, knowing he’s expecting me, a suffocating air surrounds me. He looks at me with anger as he sits behind his big desk. Anger and… disappointment. I try my best to ignore it, but his stare is relentless and cold.