Free Carrie's Answer by Sierra, VJ Summers

clit into his mouth. He sucked hard, nibbling it before soothing it with his tongue.
    He pulled back just enough to say, “You’ve been a bad girl today. I shouldn’t let you.”
    Her whimper of distress came out perilously like a sob.
    He flicked his tongue over her clit once more before murmuring into her pulsing flesh, “Then come for me, baby.”
    Her body immediately convulsed around his fingers, clutching them tightly inside as Carrie let loose a sound she’d never have recognized as coming from her own mouth. She shivered and shook endlessly, riding out the absolute, most pleasurable feeling she’d ever known.
    Marcus slowly withdrew from her and she felt empty, but he didn’t give her long to mourn the loss of his touch. He rose, grabbing the back of her hair and pulling until she looked up into his eyes.
    “You’re so beautiful when you come for me,” he said and claimed her mouth with a kiss that burned her from head to toe. He was declaring ownership. Carrie kissed him back, trying to demand the same thing from him.
    God, she was in over her head. How the hell was life supposed to continue as it had been when this weekend was over? She was headed for the worst kind of heartbreak but she was unable to tear herself away from him. She would worry about the rest later.
    “I need to hold you.” Her voice was a raw whisper, strained from her screams.
    “Then hold me,” Marcus responded against her lips.
    Wrapping her arms around his back, she pulled him closer as they kissed over and over until they had to break apart to breathe, both panting heavily.
    Marcus stood, not meeting her eyes. He carefully helped Carrie to her feet.
    “Let’s go home,” was all he said as he opened the door and escorted her out.

Chapter Eight
     
    They rode back to Marcus’ house in silence. In fact, the only movement had been when Marcus placed Carrie’s hand over his thigh and squeezed it. She kept it on his firm muscle until they pulled back into his driveway.
    He came around to her side of the car, helping her out, leading her back into his house.
    After closing the door, he guided Carrie up the stairs to the back of the house. There he unlocked a simple door, escorting her inside. Marcus turned on the light, which bathed the room in a soft glow.
    The walls here were a deep scarlet, so unlike the stark white rooms downstairs. Rooms that held the barest amount of furniture. There were no family photos, nothing to personalize his living space. It was as though he never spent time in his house. It was hard to call such a cold place home. Unfinished was how Carrie thought of it. So unlike her own cozy apartment, which was brightly colored and full of her personal photos and souvenirs.
    She examined the contents of the scarlet room, noting all the equipment, and gaped. In the corner was a low bed. Several steel bars were placed at varying heights around the room. A large X covered in black leather leaned slightly against one wall.
    A black, fur-covered, gymnastic-style horse stood ominously near the bed. On the other side of the bed, a large armoire loomed, doors slightly ajar. Inside, she saw paddles, floggers and a multitude of other implements she couldn’t even begin to name. Set inside as well was a vertical row of small pull-out drawers. She shivered when she tried to imagine all the toys that might be hidden there.
    Square in the middle of the room sat the most interesting structure: one large step flanked on either side by two smaller steps, almost like the winner’s podium at the Olympics. Above the top step hung a large gold ring. It didn’t take a genius to understand what was supposed to hang from the ring.
    Anticipation slithered down Carrie’s spine, along with a healthy dose of caution, as she fantasized about each item.
    Marcus left her in the middle of the room and took a seat in a leather wingback chair, appearing completely content to watch her take in the sights. He looked so relaxed, so comfortable.