Dark Need by Clarissa Wild

Chapter 22

April

Two bites. Two swallows.

That’s all it took for me to be completely and utterly under his spell, for me to want to give in completely and let him feed me. Let him take me.

But what’s even worse is that I saw the same thing reflected in his eyes.

The same need that now floods my body as I watch him shove his hand down his pants.

His cock already as erect as I remember from the last time I saw him naked.

The last time he … pleasured himself on me.

And now he’s opted to pleasure himself in front of me.

Oh God.

The apple drops from his hand back into the bag, and I can’t help but salivate. Not at the thought of food, but at the sight of his bulge and the obvious way he’s enjoying himself.

Is this the first time he’s ever touched himself in that way?

How did a man as ripped and commanding as him never have sex?

I don’t understand, and it’s confusing me to the point that I want to ask him questions I never should be interested in in the first place. But I am. I want to know things about this man. And I want to know what makes him so horny all the time.

Because all I can think of is that it’s me.

That he wants … me.

And that this is the reason he tied me up.

Not to hold me down but to hold himself back.

And it suddenly becomes hard for me to breathe.

But even harder is watching this same man completely unravel in front of me.

He is such a savage, such a barbarian that he doesn’t even know that you’re not supposed to touch yourself with someone watching… and make them all hot and bothered.

I swallow hard as he tugs at his pants until it drops to the ground.

And my eyes open wide at the sight of his huge hard-on.

I still can’t get used to the size of that thing.

Or to how it makes me salivate.

Oh God, April, get a grip. Close your eyes. Just close your damn eyes.

But no matter how hard I try, I can’t look away.

And neither can he.

It’s like we’re stuck in a perpetual battle of longing for something we cannot have. Something forbidden … but tempting beyond belief.

And the longer he continues to rub himself, the more my own pussy is starting to thump.

Why can’t I look away?

Why can’t I stop this yearning from growing inside me?

Pre-cum drips down his cock as he arches his back and tenses his muscles, making me swallow hard. Now I understand why my parents tried so hard to keep me away from men. Why they were so against my relationship with Eric. And why I have always been so fascinated by the idea of sex but never dared to act on it.

Because there is something so raw and primal about it that it makes even the most innocent among us want to sin.

My tongue instinctively dips out to lick my lip as he slides his hand across his length, his other hand resting on his thick, bulging abs, sweat dripping down his body, the look on his face carnal and completely mesmerizing.

And for a moment, I’m in awe at the visceral beauty of this beastly man.

He cocks his head, all while thrusting into his own hand. “Keep on looking …”

My pupils dilate, and a blush creeps onto my cheeks, but I will it down. “I wasn’t—”

“Yeah, you are,” he says, his voice gruff and raspy in a way that makes heat spread throughout my body. “I like it.”

He … likes it?

Oh, God.

Why can’t I stop it? Why can’t I stop turning so goddamn red?

I groan to myself, but it only makes him push himself off the rock and step closer to me, something I wasn’t prepared for.

What is he planning to do?

“I tried to ignore you, but you made it impossible,” he says, groaning as his thick bulge oozes pre-cum. “I need. I want.” He steps in front of me, placing both hands on the tree trunk while his cock sways around. “I never want for anything.” He searches my face until our eyes lock, and I still can’t fucking look away. “But you …”

He leans in and almost seems to take a whiff of my scent. The rumbling noise that leaves his mouth turns me into a puddle of goo.

“I want all of that …” he murmurs.

Never in my life has anyone said those words to me.

Not even Eric.

But hearing them from Soren’s mouth is something else entirely. And I don’t know if I can deal with how it makes me feel … how it makes me want him to take me.

He leans away. “But I can’t.”

I swallow down the nerves. He steps back until he’s only a few feet away, enough for him not to be able to touch me. There, he continues to rub himself.

“I can’t stop …” He groans, his veins bulging, the tip glistening with pre-cum as it grows bigger and bigger. “I want to mount you.”

Mount me?

I choke.

Oh my fucking …

Suddenly, he roars like a lion, and cum sprays out of his cock feet away. With his legs spread, he jerks it all out until he’s completely spent, releasing so much semen that I’d probably be covered from head to toe if I was anywhere near him right now.

But worse of all is the fact that my pussy is dripping. Needy. Craving the very thing he just said.

And I hate it.

I absolutely hate myself.

Something warm and sticky is stuck between my thighs, so I look down. It isn’t mine … it’s his. And when I look up, his eyes have also fixated on it.

He’s panting wildly, his cock only partially deflated like it refuses to be satiated by such a simple act as masturbation, and I can’t help but ogle him like an absolute mess. Until he saunters toward me, swagger and all, that big dick of his still swaying between his legs. And I’m still helplessly tied up to this tree, gawking my eyes out, doubting my own sanity.

He plants his hand on the tree again, narrowing his eyes. “You did this to me …”

I tilt my head to make myself feel less small in the presence of such a giant. “And I paid the price.”

His nostrils flare as he stares at me, his body so close that his dick is almost pressed up against me. Almost. But just the thought is enough to make me whimper.

“This will end, one way or another …” he whispers. “And you will be where you belong.”

Where I belong?

Does he mean the place he’s taking me?

Or with him?

No time to ask because he immediately lowers his eyes toward that spot on my leg that has a little bit of his cum. I gulp when his eyes flick up to mine and then back to my thighs. His thumb brushes over my skin. He swipes off the remaining cum with such a soft and delicate touch that it takes me by surprise. He cleans it off my body so meticulously and carefully that it almost feels like I’m a porcelain doll he needs to keep safe. Because he already broke it once, and it’s already full of cracks that won’t ever mend.

When his thumb slides up my leg a final time, electricity shoots up and down my body, all the way to my toes. I squeeze my legs together in order not to feel … all those delicious thumps in my clit.

And all the unwanted thoughts about pleasuring myself.

Oh god, what has this man done to me?

I never used to ever think like this. In fact, I was kicked out of that damn cult for not wanting to be like that, for not wanting to give myself to any man, let alone the one who wanted to conquer me.

It’s why they banished me to the house in the first place.

And now I’m succumbing to the very thing I swore I would never do.

He looks up at me with those same hungry eyes, now tempered by the release he’s had, but no less intimidating and fierce to the bone. He towers over me, looking down at me from underneath those lashes like he’s going to devour me.

“You quivered …” he says, his low voice particularly provoking right now.

I swallow hard, trying to hide my own desire. “You touched me.”

He cocks his head. “To clean you.” A hint of a smile forms on his face. “Women react to my cruelty with fear. But you … You respond differently.”

Embarrassment floods my body again, and I try to hide my shame in vain.

“Because you hurt them, but you didn’t hurt me,” I retort.

His tongue briefly dips out to lick his lips as he studies me. “Haven’t I?” He raises a brow.

I suck in a breath and then slam my lips back shut before I say something I’ll regret.

He’s right.

He did.

Back at the cabin, when I released him from his chains and gave him back his freedom … and he took mine instead.

But I never thought he’d actually acknowledge it.

The silence is overwhelming, and I’m not sure which one of us will say it first. But then he sighs and turns away, walking back to his pants to put them back on. The spell is broken, and so am I, because I’m utterly exhausted after that show.

As he zips up, a gush of wind passes through the forest, making him pause. When it dies down, he glances at me over his shoulder and says with a grouchy voice, “I’m sorry.”