Carrie's Answer (13 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Marcus was brooding. He knew it but couldn’t seem to stop. Carrie had coaxed him into finishing their dessert but they’d never regained the easy camaraderie of earlier. Each bite had been like ashes in his mouth. All he could taste was the bitter memory of his ex-wife’s betrayal.

They’d fallen silent by the time they reached the car. Marcus ushered her in but when she tried to engage him in conversation, rather than answer her he opted to turn the radio up loud to one of the classic rock stations.

His knuckles were white against the steering wheel, and the lack of control just pissed him off more. Taking a deep breath, he concentrated on controlling his breathing, his muscles and his mind. Karen had emasculated him once, he’d be damned if he’d let her do it again.

No, he was a Dom. That had been at the basis of their problems. He cast a look in Carrie’s direction. Carrie claimed that was what she wanted in her bed. A Dom. He still didn’t think she knew what she was asking for.

She was already so much more important to him than Karen had ever been. Marcus refused to put a name to his feelings but he suspected he wouldn’t survive a betrayal like Karen’s if it came from Carrie.

He had to know. Before he destroyed them both, he had to know if Carrie really wanted his lifestyle. If she could handle it. If she could handle him.

They might not have any future beyond tomorrow but he knew that they definitely had no future if Carrie couldn’t take all he had to give her.

As they drove back to Marcus’ house, Carrie could feel his agitation growing and wished there was something she could do or say to make things all right for him again. Finally she decided not to say anything. Marcus’ feelings about his divorce and The Viper were something he needed to work out. And he needed to do it on his own.

Just as her anxiety began to mirror his, they pulled into his driveway.

It was early evening and the house was dark when he ushered her inside. Marcus led her straight to the playroom, still silent as he closed the door behind them.

He looked at her for a brief moment. When she opened her mouth to ask him if he was okay, Marcus placed a finger on her lips.

“Not a word. You may beg, moan, even scream.” He stroked his finger down her chin, tracing the line of her throat. “But otherwise, you may not speak.” His voice took on that deep, gravelly quality she’d only heard when he was truly pissed and wanted no argument. She’d heard him use that tone of voice on people when a project wasn’t going in the right direction. It signaled the presence of the dangerous and dark Marcus. The one who frightened the strongest of men.

“Strip,” he commanded, still in that frightening tone. She obeyed without hesitation. He might be angry but she knew his anger was not directed at her, and she trusted him absolutely.

He stepped behind her, ghosting his hands down her arms as her dress slid to the floor. When she stood in nothing but her black lace bra and panties, he reached around to grab ahold of both breasts. His fingers pulled and flicked at the buds of her nipples and she could feel his ragged breath on her neck as he watched them harden.

She laid her head back against his shoulder. His breath was heavy in her ear. She shivered as his tongue snaked out and licked the shell of her ear before biting down on the lobe. Marcus loved nipping and biting and she loved for him to do it. Her entire body bore the reminders of where his teeth and lips had sucked at delicate, pale flesh. She loved every dark purple spot she carried. They came from the man she loved, the man she would have to leave tomorrow.

Suddenly sad, forlorn feelings enveloped her. She closed her eyes as Marcus increased the pressure on her breasts. This was
not
the time to be thinking of life without him. She had one more night and the day tomorrow; there was no point in rushing the sadness that she would soon experience when she walked through the door of his house for the last time.

Marcus unhooked her bra and pulled off her panties, leaving her naked in front of him. He led her to the platform in the center of the room. Still holding her hand, he helped her step onto the highest riser.

“Arms up,” he instructed.

Carrie complied. He quickly fastened two soft leather cuffs around her wrists and attached a long rope. He pulled the rope upward. She followed the motion with her eyes and discovered that the rope was threaded through a sturdy hook in the ceiling. After securing the rope, he repeated the process with her legs, securing her ankles to the far edges of the platform. The position stretched her almost to her toes and kept her arms high above her head.

He left the room without a word, and Carrie looked around the large space. She was already wet with anticipation of what he was going to do to her.

Her nipples were so hard, her pussy so soft. She needed him inside of her. He could take her right now with no preliminaries. She was that ready for him.

When he returned, he’d shed his shirt and shoes. He stood barefoot and bare-chested, his black jeans hanging low on his hips. He carried a glass filled with clear liquid and ice, and a black silk bag.

He stood facing her and raised the glass to his lips. After taking a small sip, he reached out his chilled tongue and drew it up the vulnerable line of her throat. When she sucked in a breath, he took the glass and slid it up the curve of her breast before tilting it to drizzle a tiny, icy stream toward her nipple. The cold shocked her and she hissed as the liquid slid down her breast, followed by his now-hot tongue.

Marcus bent forward and licked the liquid from her body, savoring his drink. He repeated the move over and over until she thought she’d go mad, until she was literally pushing her hips forward with the need to be filled.

“So impatient,” Marcus rumbled. “Maybe this will help.” He reached into the bag and pulled out the largest dildo Carrie had ever seen.

Her eyes popped wide and her thighs tried to close at the sight of the monster. “Marcus, there is no way that will fit.”

He only grinned as he pulled out a bottle of lube. He kept his eyes on hers as he dripped a line of the slippery stuff down one side of the dildo. Carrie knew she must look nervous, because his grin quickly faded and he growled, “You only have to say the word, baby, and we’ll stop.”

She didn’t like the finality in his words. He brought the toy up to her breasts, rubbing it lightly across each lush globe.

“If you haven’t learned to trust that I know what you can and can’t take, say the word, baby.”

He pressed the head of the toy to her lips. She stared into stormy gray eyes for a moment. Did she really trust him that much?
Stupid question
, she thought. Absolutely, she did. She trusted Marcus with her very life.

Opening her lips, she licked the large head. Marcus seemed to exhale slightly at her acceptance.

One big hand slid between her thighs, and he groaned. “Damn, you are so fucking wet already.”

His fingers dipped inside of her, making shallow thrusts. Carrie moved her hips forward, trying to lure his pumping fingers deeper, but he would have none of that. He just continued his short, shallow strokes, occasionally spicing things up by sweeping his thumb over her clit.

She whimpered and writhed under the whip of sensation, and he chuckled darkly. Just when she thought she couldn’t hold on, she was going to come, he pulled out. Leaning back, he ran the dildo down the front of her chest, sliding across her tummy and touching her lower lips. He teased her opening with it.

“Make those thighs wide for me. Baby, I’m going to fill you up.”

Carrie widened her stance as much as the ropes would allow. The toy tickled the sensitive nerves at her entrance. Marcus reached down, spreading more of the cool, slick lube around her entrance. She cried out as he began rubbing her clit.

He’d taken an ice cube and was moving it back and forth along her clit at the same time as he worked the toy into her resisting body. One slow inch at a time. It stretched Carrie so fully she thought it would tear her in two. She felt her body fall into a vortex of confusion, not knowing what sensation to focus on. The icy caress of his fingers? The heavy invasion of the dildo?

Just as she was about to beg him to stop, he pulled the toy out. Before she could draw a breath of relief, he slid it back in, setting up a rhythm that soon had her moaning. The pain quickly bled into a dark pleasure. Each time he stretched her to the limit, she found that she wanted more.

The ice cube had melted and was replaced by his chilly fingers; they warmed quickly against her hot, pulsating cunt.

She was fast approaching the edge, her orgasm rising quickly.

“Marcus, I’m going to come.”

He never paused in his motions, never even looked up from her pulsing pussy. All he did was grit out, “Oh no, you aren’t.”

Even as the words came out of his mouth, she lost the battle against her orgasm, tossing her head back and shuddering in her bonds. Before she’d even begun to come down, the toy was pulled out. She whimpered at the empty feeling.

Marcus pushed his hands through the back of her hair, pulling her head back.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Carrie, that you don’t come until I tell you to?” His eyes were bleak and he sounded so disappointed that she wanted to cry.

“Marcus, please,” she managed to sob.

He let go of her hair, palming her cheek. “You don’t trust me at all, baby. What a pity,” was all he said.

He walked away, leaving her shaking in her bonds, confused and upset. Just when she was sure he would leave the room entirely, he stopped and retrieved the black bag. Sending her a dark glance, he pulled out another toy, this one a vibrator. Looking at her from under his brows, he stalked around her before settling on his knees at her feet and sliding the vibrator in, in, in to her still-pulsing pussy. Holding her gaze with his own, he cranked the speed up until her body was shaking with the need to spill itself again.

When he had her shaking and crying, he moved behind her. She was startled when her arms dropped by several inches. When he’d given her a foot or so of slack, he commanded, “Lean forward.”

She folded her upper body as far over as she could and felt the cords secured so she couldn’t stand upright.

She waited apprehensively for what would come next. Soft leather straps slid over her lower back, and she froze, complete shock coming over her body. When he did nothing more than continue to trail the soft leather over the small of her back and her ass, she slowly let the tension drain from her muscles.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, his tone relaxed, almost lazy.

“Of course I do.”

He struck without warning, bringing the straps of the flogger sharply across her ass. Carrie couldn’t hold back her yelp of surprise. It stung, but no more than his hand had. It was her emotional reaction that was so different. His hand had been personal. This was not.

He turned the vibe on stronger, pulling his hand back, running the flogger down her ass, tapping it between her thighs.

“Still trust me, baby?” His voice was a dark rasp.

“Yes, I do,” she whispered.

She felt his teeth on her neck.

“Liar,” he whispered. The flogger hit harder this time, the leather straps curling between her thighs, wedging the vibrator even deeper.

“Who do you trust? Who do you belong to? Who makes you come?”

Marcus kept up the questions and Carrie kept answering him. “You, Marcus, you.”

With each question, each answer, he struck her with the flogger. Her ass was hot and her pussy was even hotter. Her thighs were dripping and she had to clench her muscles tightly to keep the vibrator lodged in her.

She was more turned on than she ever had been before but as ecstatic as her body was, her mind was in turmoil. Marcus was pushing her body to the limits, asking her if she trusted him, demanding something more from her than words.

She became confused, and then pissed. What the hell more did he want from her? She begged him to let her come and he refused to give her that release. The generous lover she’d come to expect was nothing but a memory. This lover wanted nothing more than to utterly control her, but rather than doing it for their mutual pleasure, he seemed driven by some dark emotion. His command over her ability to come was raising the stakes.

Then a thought took form in her brain. The Viper had entered this room.

Not in person, but in Marcus’ mind. Anger, frustration and desire flooded her as she realized what he was doing. By not letting her come, he was pushing, seeing how much she would take before she broke and walked away from him.

To hell with that! He wasn’t going to break her. No man would ever break her. She liked being dominated in the bedroom, yes, but she’d be damned if she was going to put up with another woman in the room. If he needed to exorcise the ghost of Karen, he could do it alone.

She opened her mouth to call out the safe word but images of their time together flashed through her mind. Was she ready to walk away right now because of that woman? Hell no, The Viper was not going to win this time. Instead of uttering the word that would separate them forever, she took a deep breath and let her head fall back.