Sins of Seven Series 1-3: Boxed Set

by Dani René

  “You spank them?” I ask, allowing myself to mold to him. I’m fucking needy for a man who’s about to hurt me. I’m being stupid. I shouldn’t allow him to take me. There is no way this is going to end well, but I don’t have a choice. I’m already in too deep, riding too close to the line of desire and emotion. I want him. My body, my mind -- it’s filled with him.

  “I do. And when I’m done, you’ll be begging me to fuck you hard. To break that sweet innocence you’ve held onto for so long. Do you want me to fuck your tight little cunt?” he smirks. Leaning in, he allows his lips to whisper over my skin. The movement sending shockwaves of pleasure racing through me. Each second he’s near me, I feel myself letting go. I’m allowing my walls to crumble, and I know it’s going to hurt in the end. He will be my downfall. And somehow, I don’t know if I can even allow myself to care.

  I agreed to it, and this is just the beginning. I don’t know who I remind him of. I know he’s using me, perhaps to get over her, but he doesn’t realize just how much I’m using him too. This ache I’ve had for far too long needs to go away. I want a man to desire me. To feel every bit out of control as I do, and Carrick Anderson is doing that right this minute.

  I want to drown in him for as long as I can without allowing my heart to fight its way through my high walls, then I’ll walk away.

  I tell myself that as he kicks the door closed and walks me into the living room. No other words are spoken. He positions me over the desk, which overlooks the city. It’s beautiful, with the stars shining down on the room and the silver moon streaming light in.

  I’m bent at the waist. I can’t see him, but I feel him. His hand trails white-hot desire through me as he strokes my back. His fingertip on my spine, following the path leading down to my panty-clad ass.

  “You’re exquisite.” His words cause me to whimper. Then the buckle of his belt clinks. “Have you ever been spanked, Kitten?”

  I don’t answer for a moment, then the harsh swat of his hand comes down on my left ass cheek. It stings, causing me to lift up onto my toes. My fingers grip the edge of the desk as I bite down on my lower lip.

  “I asked you a question.”

  “No, Carrick.” My answer is a taunted whisper. I want to beg for another spank, but I don’t. I need to hold on to some self-restraint.

  “I’m going to spank you. I’m going to see how much that pretty little ass can take. What is your safe word, baby?” he asks, leaning in, pressing his lips to my cheek.

  “Indulge.” I feel his smile on my skin.

  “Good girl,” he murmurs, which sends a rush of pleasure through me. How two simple words can make me feel good, I will never understand. He rises and steps behind me, then nothing. I can’t hear anything.

  Silence hangs in the air, heavy and foreboding. I wanted this. I asked for it. My body trembles. My arousal pools between my legs, and I attempt to squeeze my thighs together to ease the ache low in my groin.

  I’m not sure what he’s doing. The quiet is deafening. Anticipation. I’ve read how Dominants use this tactic to instill patience in a submissive. How the longer we wait, the more aware we are. And I didn’t believe it until now. Right here, in this moment, I realize something I’ve never wanted to admit. I am everything Savvie always said I was. She saw it the moment we met. I’m a sub, and there’s no turning back.

  My mind is so focused on my realization I don’t realize Carrick’s moved. I’m about to question him when his hand cracks down loudly on my left ass cheek. The sting tingles over my skin, causing the flesh to heat.

  He hasn’t taken my panties off yet. He rains down another three slaps on either cheek, making me yelp each time. Each one harder than the last. My whimpers turn to moans. My clit throbs, my pussy soaking through the material of my underwear.

  “Carrick, please.” A whimper falls from my lips, and he halts his assault on my ass. I can hear his breathing at my ear.

  “Tell me,” he utters on the shell of my ear. The warmth of his breath, of his body cocoons me, sending an excited trickle down my spine. “I want the words from those beautiful lips. I need to know what you need from me so I can deliver it,” he informs me.

  “I want more.”

  “Do you want my belt, Kitten?” he purrs in my ear, and I nod. I hear the movement of his hands on the leather, the clink of the buckle as he readies it.

  Then the swat on the right globe of my ass causes me to cry out. But even as the sting burns my flesh, I feel the wetness between my legs. He rains down another and another on each of my cheeks. The pain and pleasure shoot directly to my clit. It tingles, and I find myself begging for more. Lifting my ass up, I wait for the next one, but it doesn’t come.

  “This will hurt.” That’s all he promises before tugging my panties down to my thighs. The lash of leather licks the now sensitive skin of my ass, and it feels as if it’s on fire as he continues, and I’m certain from the burn my flesh is now bright red. “Tell me to stop, Peyton,” he pleads, almost pained, and I don’t know why, because even though my body is trembling from the lashing, my core is pulsing with yearning to be filled. My eyes are shut so tight I see white behind the lids.

  “I want you inside me,” I find myself uttering, asking him for more pain, for more pleasure. For something I never thought I’d want. And he delivers. His hands grip the stinging globes, massaging them tenderly, then delivering another swat and another until I lose count. Until my nails are digging into the wood. When he finally drops the belt, he tugs my panties all the way down.

  I turn to look at him over my shoulder. His eyes are so shot now they’re almost black. Dark desire swirls in their depths like a bottomless pit dragging me into the abyss. The savage. I don’t look away as he shoves his jeans along with his boxers down those muscled thighs. He positions himself at my core, wet and slippery, needy for him.

  “Is this how you want your innocence taken?” he asks, and I realize this is it. He’s not taking; he’s giving me the choice. “Peyton, you have to tell me.” He’s right. It’s my decision. I can’t answer him. The words are stuck in my throat. His hand moves then. He jerks himself fast. The tip of his cock grazing over my ass, and then he grunts. Jets of warmth spray over me as he marks me like a feral animal.

  “Please, Carrick,” I beg. I plead with him, and he nods. He drops to his knees with his body still shaking. Opening me to his gaze, he leans in and laps at me, licking my sodden core. The sensations cause my knees to buckle. He moves so slowly I feel like screaming. Inch by inch, he slips his hot tongue into my quivering entrance. “Fuck,” I groan as he fucks me with his tongue, slowly and gently.

  A finger dips into me, then he drags it up to my puckered hole. He teases me open, slipping the digit into me, causing me to tense. “Breathe, Kitten. I won’t hurt you.” It’s a promise, and I know he won’t. I trust him. He continues to suckle on my clit, his teeth bearing down, causing my body to pulse. I’m so damn close. “That’s it. Let go.”

  I do. I close my eyes and lose myself in the pleasure of his fingers, tongue, and mouth. My release grips me in its earth-shattering hold, and I drench his tongue in my juices. He stops all movement, slipping his finger from my ass, he rises.

  “You’re delicious,” he tells me, helping me to my feet. When I turn to meet his eyes, I feel his cock jutting out once more.

  “I want you to take me. To fuck me.” My words are filled with honesty, need, and desire.

  “Peyton, I—”

  “Carrick,” I utter his name, peeking up at him under my lashes. “I want it.” I’ve never been surer of anything in my life. I reach out, my hand gripping the smooth, velvety shaft. I stroke him gently, watching his eyes blaze with hunger.

  “Go to your bedroom. I’m not taking your virginity on a desk.” His order causes me to giggle. “Something funny, Kitten?” he questions, lifting an eyebrow at me. His mouth tilts into a smirk. His accent, thick, broad English, makes everything south of my belly button tingle.

  “No.” One wo
rd, and I release him from my grip. When I turn, he grips my hip, holding me steady before I can disappear and wipes my back with his shirt. Then he releases me, and I walk into the bedroom where I’ve been lying thinking about him all night. Now he’s here, and I can’t wait to experience him. All of him. He follows me not long after, his eyes taking in everything surrounding us.

  “On the bed. Kneel. Sit back on your heels, and place your hands on your thighs, palms up.” His order is gruff. I quickly shuffle onto the bed, posing for him as he requested. I watch him shove off his jeans and boxers. We’re both naked. Bared to the other. “You’re sure you want this, Kitten?” Once again, he asks me something I nod to. “Words.”

  “Yes, Sir,” I utter my response, which causes him to shudder with yearning. Longing dances in his honeyed eyes. He stalks toward me. Inspecting my position, he nods.

  “On your back. Open your legs with your feet on each edge of the mattress. I want to see if you’re a dirty girl.” I obey. Lying on the plush comforter, I open my legs obscenely, which offers him a view of my wet pussy. “Play with yourself.”

  “I’ve—”

  “Do not answer me. I said touch your pretty little pussy, Pet.” I reach between my legs. Tentatively, I stroke my slick juices, wetting my fingers and allowing them to open the lips of my pussy. Carrick growls at the sight, his fist holding onto his cock so tight I’m sure he’s going to pull it off. Watching a man as beautiful and virile as he is only serves to turn me on more. His chiseled body. Dips and peaks of his beautiful stomach are illuminated in the moonlight.

  I continue teasing myself. Using my other hand, I circle my clit with my index finger. My whimpers echo along with Carrick’s grunts. He’s rock-solid, and I’m drenched and ready.

  “Please, I need you,” I whimper like a slut. I’m not sure where this has come from, but my body is aching. Pain so acute it’s causing me to scoot nearer to him. When he finally steps closer, he positions the crown of his cock at my entrance.

  “Don’t move. It’s going to hurt,” he tells me, slipping into my body inch my torturous inch. I don’t move. Instead, I grip the sheet with both my hands, fisting the material. I know from taking him down my throat he’s big, but the way he fills me is something else. My body stretches for him, taking him deep inside my heat.

  The heaviness causes me to wince when he reaches my hymen, but I bite down on my lip to keep from crying out. I don’t want him to stop. He is deliciously thick, making me moan when he fully seats himself inside me. Then he starts moving, sliding out and back in. He takes his time, his hands gripping my hips in a vise hold.

  His fingers dig into the flesh as he holds me still. When he opens his eyes again they glower. His head drops back, and his grunts are feral and animalistic as they fall from his lips.

  “Fuck, you feel so good,” he says on a hissed moan. Again and again, he pistons into me. His hips moving faster, back and forth, slamming me into the mattress as he loses all control and fucks me. My thighs tremble as my body tightens.

  The pain is gone. All that’s left is pleasure as he uses me. As much as he drives pleasure into me, I tighten myself around him. I’m full, filled to the brink. My knuckles turn white. My mewls play alongside his groans.

  I feel my release closing in. It’s threatening, it’s menacing, and when he reaches down to pinch my throbbing bundle of nerves, I fall over the edge.

  I scream his name, over and over again. I chant it. I use it as a prayer. He’s my god, and I’m on my knees, worshiping him, needing him. Falling. Dropping into his darkness, and I know as he empties his seed inside me, I’ll never be free of him.

  Our breaths are ragged as he slowly slips from my pussy. The motion causes me to wince, but the pleasured-pain is something I revel in. His gaze is on me, on every part of me. It’s something I don’t think I could ever get used to. Mainly because the last time someone looked at me like that I was shattered beyond belief. My eyes fall to his cock. It’s wet with both our releases as well as my innocence that’s been stripped from me. I gave it freely. I wanted it to be him, and it was.

  “Was that my first lesson?” I ask, watching him with curiosity. When he doesn’t respond, I tip my head to the side, meeting his intense stare.

  He opens his mouth then shuts it. Moving around the space, he tugs his jeans and boxers back up, tucking himself away. His shirt is on the floor. I don’t even remember him removing it. With controlled precision, he takes the leather belt that licked my skin only moments ago and feeds it into the loops of his jeans.

  “It was. You passed it well,” he finally utters. He doesn’t look at me as he says it, but I can tell he’s at war with himself from the rigidness of his shoulders.

  “You’re leaving?” I ask, pushing off the bed, taking a step closer to him on my wobbly knees. Scarily, I need to be near him. There’s something intoxicating about him, something that draws me in. Pulls me closer. There’s the danger. That uncontrollable need of wanting someone will only hurt me when he pushes me away into the arms of someone else.

  “I have to. I told you, this isn’t a relationship, Kitten. It’s merely an arrangement. Once we’re done, you’ll move on, and so will I. You asked me to take your innocence, which I did.” He shrugs his shirt on as he says this making his way into the living room and I follow. Somehow, I don’t believe a word he’s saying.

  “You did, and I did. My misunderstanding,” I say in agreement, but the words taste bitter on my tongue. Quickly, I grab my panties from the floor and tug them on. Heading to the bar in the far corner of the room, I busy myself with pouring a glass of wine. I know there’s no way I can sleep after what just happened. There’s a tinge of pain between my thighs. I can feel our desire dripping from me, wetting my already soaked panties.

  As I sip the cool liquid, his body heat cocoons me. “Are you okay?” His hands land on my arms as his fingers stroke my skin. “You need to tell me if I’ve been too harsh, or if you’re at your limit. I . . .” His words taper off, and when I turn to him, I meet those beautiful eyes shimmering with hints of chocolate.

  “You're . . .?”

  “I’m not used to this. Mason is the trainer. Me . . . I’m . . . I don’t know.” He shakes his head almost sadly, and I wonder what could’ve happened to him to make him so cold, so detached.

  “The asshole?” I ask, giggling when his mouth tilts into a smirk. It’s playful, so different to the emotions that swirled around us moments ago.

  “Yes. I suppose you might call me that. Taking your virginity like that, I’m . . . sorry. I’ve always been cold. It’s the only way I can survive.” There’s no apology in his words. He knows what he’s like, and he doesn’t want me to believe differently. Honesty. I’ve not had that with anyone before. My life is a lie. All I’ve ever known are things that have been made up. It’s ingrained inside me, so deep, so fucking deep I’ll never get them out. Secrets.

  “Or perhaps you’re only acting that way because you don’t want me to feel more about this,” I tell him, stalking around him, needing air. His scent is intoxicating. He makes my chest ache, my heart hurt, and mostly, he makes me want more. And this between us is far too intense for me to put down as merely fun.

  “No, Peyton. I am an asshole. And not the kind you read about in books, not the kind that will change for the right woman.” The no-nonsense tone causes me to nod in agreement. It’s clear what this is. So, I smile, plastering it on my face like I was taught to. Lies.

  “You made that abundantly clear, Carrick. I don’t expect you to ever walk in here with a ring. So please, don’t think I’m that kind of girl. I never have been, and I never will be.”

  “Good. Then we’re on the same page,” he responds easily, but his shoulders are rigid with tension. He turns and makes his way to my door. The apartment is small, compared to the usual standards I’m used to, but I just needed escape.

  “We are.”

  Two words, and he’s out the door without so much as a goodbye. I release a b
reath I was holding for the longest time and slump against the wall. Without him in the same vicinity, my brain is clear.

  This agreement may be the end of my heart. Day by day, I know I’ll fall for him. I’ve had the worst taste in men, and I’ve already signed the contract. Even though I don’t know how I’ll get through it, I want to. But I don’t admit why I really want it. I can’t. Because voicing the words are worse than what just happened between us.

  9

  Carrick

  Peyton Moore.

  I ordered a background check on her, and it seems she’s hidden within the system of paperwork and bullshit. He didn’t find anything incriminating. The problem is, he didn’t find anything at all. I expected results, but for some reason, she’s clean. It doesn’t matter who it is in my life, I always make sure I know who I’m getting into bed with, so to speak. Especially when it’s something long term.

  When I asked Savannah, she’s not been too forthcoming about her best friend either. I always get what I want. I’ve grown up with everything I need at my fingertips, and as much as Peyton has proved a challenge, I’m not scared off. I want more.

  I don’t blame Savannah though. I told her that this is nothing more than an arrangement, but I’m lying to myself if I believe last night hasn’t done something to me. It’s fucked with my head, and I don’t know how to deal with it.

  This woman who’s walked into my life and consumed my every thought is a mystery, and even though I shouldn’t make an exception, being who I am, I no longer care. All I want is her.

  When my office door opens, I look up to find Mason staring at me. My partner and friend. He’s the only one, besides Oliver, who knows who I really am. When I first arrived, he took me in and made sure my life got back on track. When we opened Sins together, I knew there was no one else I could put my trust in.