Another Brush of Love (The Carnal Exhibitions Book 3)

by LW Barefoot

  “Don’t stop on my account,” he whispers and cups my hand with his, urging me to continue pleasuring myself.

  I don’t do this, ever. I whimper when his hand leaves mine. I dip my fingers into my slick heat and try to arouse some similar response that Evan would evoke. His lips find my breasts and his tongue works over my nipples. Teeth tug and pull as I work my fingers in frenzied circles. Only Evan’s lips are on me, kissing and licking my breasts. He kisses a trail to my collarbone and then up my neck.

  “Were you having a nice a dream?” he whispers.

  He pinches my nipple for not answering in time.

  “Yes,” I groan.

  “What was it about?”

  “You and me,” I say frustrated because he’s not helping with this problem I have.

  “Want to elaborate?” he asks.

  I groan in response and stop touching myself. I’m not going to be the one to push me over the edge.

  “Your hands aren’t enough are they?” he teases in a heated rush.

  He lifts my right hand up and licks me from palm to fingertips. The feel of his warm tongue alone rekindles my need. He locks eyes with me and sucks each finger, swiping up my arousal with his tongue. He holds his hand up to press against mine, palm to palm, showing me how much bigger and better equipped he is for the task.

  “Do you need me, gorgeous?”

  “Yes, always.”

  My voice is shaky but my admission is truth. He inserts his finger into my mouth when he pulls away. I lick and tease as if it’s his magnificent cock. I start to suck when pulls his finger from my mouth.

  He pushes into me in one swift sharp movement. Proving that he’s better qualified to make me lose control.

  “What was your dream about, Harper?”

  “We couldn’t get enough of each other,” I pant as he inserts another finger and starts caressing skillfully.

  “That’s our reality, gorgeous,” he says as he kicks the rest of the sheet off of him, revealing how much he likes this. “Let’s see if we can top your dream, shall we?”

  My muscles tense and I try to put off the impending orgasm. He looks down to where his hand is and senses my struggle. Proving his point, he thrusts hard and starts working his hand faster. Aggressively propelling me to come apart and I do, yelling his name as every ounce of my awareness prickles. I’m sent soaring as I drown in his gaze and gush against his palm. He watches me fall apart in the most delicious way imaginable.

  “What would top your sexy little dream?”

  I lick my lips as he coats his cock with my release, stroking my arousal up and down with his palm.

  I don’t answer him because he’s doing a damn good job of making the present moment the best it possibly could be.

  I roll onto my side and lift my leg on top of his. It’s late and this is the fastest way to have him inside of me. I spread myself to take him. But he sits up, holding onto my thigh, getting on his knees. He straddles my left leg that’s pressed on the bed and wraps my right leg around his waist.

  Evan positions himself at my entrance, widening his stance on his knees and I’m at his mercy. This position is thrilling because I’m completely trapped and exposed to him. He lifts my right leg and tests my flexibility, inching me higher and higher.

  And I spread for him, resting my straight leg against his chest and watching his reaction. He thrusts into me all the way, rooting his cock deep and groaning with the sensation. Driving into me, one fingertip circling my clit, the other repeating the motion on my ass. His fingers are light in his ministrations but his grip is tight, using it as leverage to pull me back to his cock.

  I shake and lose all inhibition when he lets loose, allowing his lust and desire to take over. Fucking me relentlessly as he stimulates so many foreign and delicious sensations.

  He removes the finger he’s been tormenting my clit with, angling his torso and stimulating it better than his finger. He keeps changing how fast he drives into me and it’s making me crazy.

  “Shh, baby, you’ll love this,” he mutters when I start to protest in frustration.

  He gathers our mixed arousal and coats my back entrance with it. Pausing only a few seconds, before plowing into me again, picking up where he left off. My muscles tense, but I make myself relax as he toys with that forbidden place, circling with the pad of his finger.

  Evan synchronously pushes his finger in, roots his cock deeper than he’s been all night, and grabs my throat. Anchoring us together and sending me into the most earth shattering orgasm I’ve ever experienced. I cry out and shudder. He never lets up the assault. It feels as if I’m experiencing something entirely out-of-body but at the same time it feels as if every inch of me vibrates in blinding pleasure.

  The more he works his finger into me and drives his cock, every little tingle of my nerve endings feel like they’re shattered and pieced back together.

  He moves my leg down off his shoulder, massaging my thigh and ass. He presses my leg higher up the bed and exposes me even more than I was before. He feels deeper like this and I moan as he slows his pace.

  “Shh, Harper, feel it. Feel me, baby.”

  Holy fuck, how could I not? I thought it wasn’t possible to experience anymore with him. I thought I have felt all there was to feel. But I’m wrong.

  I tumble through exhilarating ecstasy, riding one never-ending wave of release after another. It’s not a destination but a journey. I bite my lip to contain the sounds spilling out of my chest.

  “Touch yourself, gorgeous.”

  I do what I’m told and scissor my fingers so that I can feel him entering me. I use his momentum to press on my clit.

  I’m laid out, bare, on display, and just now understanding this connection between us. This madness that has us both losing our minds and clawing at each other for escape.

  Evan keeps me locked up how he wants me. He’s wild and breathtaking. His focus, attention, and adrenaline push at me like a tangible force.

  I lick my lips and pinch my nipple harder, moving my right hand away from me. I cup his ass. His pounding hips hit me hard enough to keep my contracting muscles begging for more.

  He stills, pulling me tighter, and pushing both his cock and his finger as deep as they’ll go. I keep my hand on him and if I could accept more of him I would. His orgasm kicks and detonates inside of me. He holds me like something precious and priceless.

  That build up, that crazed longing and separation between us was for this. We’re both shaking and trembling, accepting and giving everything to each other.

  Just when I think I’ve given him all I have to give, he starts to massage my ass. Pulling his finger out slowly, massaging the tight ring of muscles with his thumb. His cock still kicking up in me and just before he pulls his finger all the way out he pushes it against his cock. Rubbing himself and me through my skin that separates everything.

  I convulse and feel him coming again. I painfully, deliciously shatter around him.

  “I told you you would love it, princess.”

  He obviously loves it, too. I didn’t know he could do that, stroke himself from inside of me. But now that I do, I have a hundred different ideas of how I want him to explore that sensation with me.

  Pain is the only thing I associate with that area when things become sexual. Unpleasant, hurtful force, but this, fuck, this is simply amazing. He’s not trying to force his cock into me there, just demonstrating how much I could fucking love it.

  Harper

  The summer humidity coats my skin like a sweaty blanket I can never take off as I run through the pathway of trees. There is no breeze to cool me down as I race the full length of the driveway that winds and curves.

  My feet push against pebbles as I run back to the house. The place seems deserted compared to what it usually feels like. No one wants to wake up to attend a funeral and even the estate feels like it’s experiencing the mood.

  The fact that the gas lamps flicker in the heat and the late morning sun is st
ill a mystery to me. I focus on their dancing light as I finish my exhausting workout.

  Rufus sits on the porch watching me approach. He stands up with the hair on his back raised all the way down the expanse of his hide. His face pushed forward, the wrinkles smash together and his eyes alert. I pop the blaring earbud out.

  “Rufus, baby, it’s me,” I coo at him.

  He doesn’t move, doesn’t wiggle in excitement to see me. A deep growl vibrates out of his chest and I stop dead in my tracks. I’ve never seen him like this before.

  “Sweet buddy, it’s okay,” I plead with my overly affectionate bulldog that looks like he’s about to attack me.

  The rumble in his chest turns into a warning growl as he rears back and prepares to launch at me. I take the other earbud out and hold my hand out for him to sniff. My sweet cuddly bulldog is something entirely different. I notice his eyes trained on something behind me.

  Grayson walks up. But Ru’ loves Grayson, and has never acted like this towards him or anyone.

  The sun blocks my view of his face, but the steady walk to me is something that seems out of character.

  “Gray, stop you’re scaring Rufus,” I say shielding the sun from my eyes.

  My cupped hand blocks the blinding light and I realize it isn’t Grayson approaching me at all. Ru’s crazed warning raises in tempo. Saliva from his furious barks slap against my shins and shocks me into action.

  I rush up the steps as Rufus lunges for the Sculptor. I manage to get out a scream before I’m pulled down and my body’s restrained. Fingers slick through my dog’s drool and grip my ankle as my knees crash hard on the ground.

  A muffled curse escapes the Sculptor as Ru’s teeth latch on his leg. My heart shatters when a fist slams repeatedly over and over across Ru’s face.

  “No,” I scream and panic as the Sculptor kicks my dog when he whimpers and limps away.

  “Please stop, I beg you. Please.”

  I’m a sobbing mess as I plead for my worst enemy to restrain from making my heart break more than it already has.

  I reach for him to pull him off my dog. Hateful energy pulses through my touch as I grab his arm after he delivers another kick to Rufus.

  Seth bursts out of the front doors only a few yards away but they feel like miles. A crashing boom goes off by my ear and I wail in the deafening void ringing in my ears as I take in the sight in front of me.

  A burst of red spills and stains Seth’s pristine white polo from underneath it.

  My worst nightmare was just eclipsed and shamed by what this bastard has done.

  The Sculptor pushes a needle through my sweaty skin.

  I black out as I see Ru’s body unmoving on the steps and Seth collapses reaching for me with his blue eyes pleading just before they close.

  Harper

  My head pounds when I come to. Death eludes me again. There’s no outstretched hand for me to grasp, no spiral into drowning depths, and this time, I’m thankful. This time, I’m prepared to fight back. Fight even harder than I did the first time.

  I try to move and my muscles cooperate. I roll my neck before opening my eyes, moving my head to the other side to help alleviate the relentless pounding. It feels like my pulse jackhammers against my skull. My vision is blocked as well as my lips. Some sort of rubber is between my teeth and I shudder when my tongue brushes against it.

  Wiggling my fingers and toes, I try the larger muscles in my body. I tug my arms and pull but they won’t budge. My leg muscles move but my ankles feel like they’re tied down along with my wrists. I take a deep breath then freeze.

  My sensations are on high alert as I feel fingertips against my skin and drool trickle out of the side of my mouth.

  Everything that makes up my existence hangs in the balance. Every tiny thing I’ve endured has led me here. It took me falling in love with Evan for me to see this life was worth living.

  My past experiences allow me to separate my body from my mind. My heart and soul are different from the shell that keeps me in this world. The Sculptor can do what he will but he will never take those pieces of me.

  It’s hard with my pounding head but I concentrate on the fingertips trailing like a whisper over my exposed skin. Exploring touches move to my head. Fingers massage my temples and move to the back of my skull.

  The obstruction in my mouth falls away.

  “Shhh, he won’t like this,” I freeze when I hear a woman’s voice as her breath washes over my clammy skin.

  I register the accent and shiver when my jaw can move on its own. I take the pill she holds to my lips and swallow whatever it is down my ravaged throat when she floods my mouth with water. I have no other choice. It feels as if I have been drinking gravel. I take pulls of the water and moan when it’s pulled away. Whoever this is shoves the gag back between my teeth and it makes my head hurt worse.

  Long minutes tick away before I feel his presence.

  “Get away from her, Sarah.”

  His tone means death and I know I’m not the only one affected by his command. I’m thankful for the water that helped me gather a fraction of myself. I don’t even want to think about Sarah being here. Her cold fingers lift my heavy necklace I never take off and removes it before she shuffles away from me.

  I stay stock still as he approaches. His clean scent invades my space and then his hands release the ties holding my wrists and ankles down. Blood rushes from my pounding head and races to my hands and feet. I fall forward and hate that I unconsciously catch myself on his chest. I can almost feel his grin. It’s a game I know all too well. He’ll have me on all fours soon enough.

  “What did you give her?”

  “I…um…” I hear Sarah stutter and trip over her words.

  My eyes are still covered. Her whimpering makes every hair on my body stand on end. The Sculptor’s fingers are in my mouth and down my throat. He forces me to throw up.

  The hammering in my head rolls with a vengeance. He hits my back and I spit up the pill, coughing violently and gagging.

  “You fucking bitch,” he whispers.

  This tone is worse than the one he used before. At this point, I don’t care what she gave me.

  “How could you do this to me?” he asks.

  I’ve heard him ask this question before but this time, it isn’t directed at me.

  “I…I’m…trying to help you,” Sarah mumbles.

  I’m still spitting up the contents of my stomach when I hear her get hit. The blindfold has moved enough for me to see underneath it, but I don’t want to look. I cringe away from them as they have it out.

  I’m so confused why she’s here.

  He scoops me off the floor and holds me to his chest. Like an object. Like a possession.

  “You need to understand something,” he says as he spins around and makes me dizzy. “The only reason you’re still alive is because I allow it. Stop making me second guess my decision to keep you.”

  “Yes, master.”

  I shiver when I hear her say that word he wants to come from me. When I didn’t call him that he lost all control. He’ll want to hear it. He’ll force it out of me. As I struggle to calm the rapid panic, I curse to myself when I’m unable to stop the tremor rushing through me.

  “Shh, sweet Casey, let’s get you cleaned up. I won’t let her hurt you again. I’ll take care of you.”

  He removes the blindfold and I take in Sarah’s appearance. She’s a crumpled mess on the floor. A trickle of blood comes out of her nose and she has next to nothing on. Her eyes hold murder. Their gaze isn’t directed toward the person they should be. She glares at me like she’s the one who’s finally going to send me six feet under.

  The Sculptor’s arms are tight around me as he carries me to a bathroom, locking the door behind us.

  The floor and walls are decorated in black and white honeycomb tile. I focus on them instead of what’s taking place around me.

  Only a small window is above the bathtub, it’s not big enough for me to cr
awl through. So I think about buzzing bees and bright fields while the Sculptor starts the water in the tub.

  I stand in the corner shivering while he adjusts the water temperature. It’s too intimate in this small space that his cologne and presence dominate. He waits for the bath to fill before turning toward me offering a toothbrush. I see Sarah’s nails underneath the door as she quietly sits and listens.

  “What is she doing here?” I ask.

  “That’s not what I expected your first words would be. Are you not happy to see me?”

  I turn away from him, but he yanks my face back to him and shoves the toothbrush past my lips and brushes my teeth as if I’m a child.

  “She led me back to you, precious.”

  His statement leaves too much room for me to unravel the knots of how Sarah managed to find him.

  I study him. Taking time to memorize every little thing about him. If I make it out of this, I will let the world know who’s responsible for all those murders. Whatever his justification for his actions is, he will be remembered for killing those innocent women.

  I think of Evan sitting in church right now or walking in the funeral march and wonder if this monster is responsible for his mother’s death as well.

  I spit the mix of toothpaste and saliva out in the sink and press myself up against the wall.

  I want to disappear as he reaches for me. He wipes my mouth with a towel. His eyes search mine. That sickening caress moves over me and strips away everything that lies between us.

  “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he says as he starts to undress me.

  I get lost in his honest eyes. It’s the first time I truly search them. Finally brave enough to look.

  “Why didn’t you let me die?”

  It’s the one thing I’ve wanted to know most of all. I never wanted to hear about his feelings for me and that doesn’t change now. His words have been haunting me for years. How I captured his undivided attention. How I could never be free of him. But the last time I searched his eyes, he was crying. He’s the reason I’m still here with a pulse, but he’s also the reason I might not have one for much longer.