Dark Need by Clarissa Wild

Chapter 30

Soren

When she finally came outof the shower, she looked refreshed but not at all calm. She tiptoed around me without talking to me, heading straight for the bedroom wearing nothing but a simple towel.

I’d be lying if I said it didn’t turn me on.

The mere sight of her bare legs already has my cock half-hard.

Even though I’ve seen her body before, it never fails to get me excited. And that’s what frustrates me to no end. No woman has ever been this attractive to me. Nor have I ever wanted to rip my own dick off, but here we are.

She’s insufferably sexy, and I don’t understand why.

Is it because she is forbidden?

Am I tempted by that which I’m not supposed to crave?

Or is it because she unfurls something inside me … something I didn’t know existed?

I clutch my chest right where my heart is as it feels like it aches, but it’s an unfamiliar type of ache. The scratches on my skin are still fresh and sting like hell, but maybe that’s just because of the alcohol she applied.

My fingers slide over the wounds, but I don’t think of the bear mauling me.

I’ve dealt with worse in my lifetime.

No, what strikes me is the fact I can still feel her hands on my skin.

The cotton swab sliding down my abs.

Her eyes stripping me bare.

My cock twitches, and I shift in my seat as the door to the bedroom opens up. April steps outside in a completely new outfit of comfy lounge pants and a button-up shirt. She must’ve found it in a closet in there. I’ll have to check for myself to see if anything might fit me.

But for now, I’m content with watching her pretend she isn’t here.

I don’t know what I did or said that set her off, but she hasn’t spoken a word to me since I asked her to be honest.

Which means I struck a nerve.

I might be a giant oaf, but I’m not dumb.

I know what a woman in heat looks like. I’ve seen plenty at the House, thanks to Tobias and Eli. She definitely ticked every box.

She didn’t just help me to be nice.

She helped me because she was afraid I’d die.

Because she doesn’t want to lose me.

A satisfying grumble leaves my throat as she saunters into the kitchen. She throws me a single glance when she hears the sound. I look her dead in the eyes as I get up from the chair and walk into the same bathroom she went in when she tried to disappear on me.

It’s about time I clean myself after all that roughing up.

Besides, I need to get away from her quick before I do something.

Before I …

My cock instantly hardens again at the thought of tearing off that shirt.

She’s a witch for having me put under a spell.

I clench my fist and turn on the shower, undressing quickly before I step under while keeping the one arm she bandaged out. It’s cold to the bone, but it’s also the only way I can keep the savage from coming out to play. And even when my body is freezing, my shaft still stays rigid, refusing to go down just because I laid eyes on her.

Just because I’ve thought of nothing but putting my lips on that body.

And it makes me want to roar out loud.

Instead, I plant a hand on the wall, almost breaking one of the slabs of stone. With my free hand, I grasp my cock and jerk away, rubbing myself until the heat starts to rise. Still, my mind cannot erase the imprinted image of her. Those luscious lips, those tits I want to bury my face in, and that pussy I want to gorge on.

Fuck.

The thought of her only spurs me on as I jerk off faster and faster. No amount of cold water can cool me off. It only makes me want to step out and grab her.

Fuck!

With a clenched jaw, I rub the tip, imagining it’s her sweet pussy milking me. And I come so hard that it makes me moan as the seed jets out all over the wall. By the time I’m finished, the whole place is covered in my jizz. But my cock is still hard, and I’m not even close to feeling satiated.

“Fuck!” I growl, stomping the wall.

This time a crack appears beneath.

I ignore it and wash and rinse everything off before I step out with a half-hard dick. I swiftly wrap a towel around my waist and get out of the shower, hungry, confused, enraged.

And with an appetite that could fuel a steed.

She’s still toiling around in the kitchen, grabbing pots and pans, when she glances at me. Just one simple glance. And it’s almost like she just ripped off my towel.

Fuck me.

I grumble again and go into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind me.

Am I imagining things, or is she … is she …?

Falling.

As hard as I am.

My cock instantly bounces up and down at the thought, but I have to will it to go down. She couldn’t possibly fall for a beast like me. I am the one who’s keeping her a prisoner.

But she could’ve run.

I shake my head and force the thoughts from my mind, heading straight for the closet. But nothing inside will fit me. Everything is too tiny, and every shirt I pull over my head rips apart at the seam.

“Fuck!” I can’t contain my anger anymore.

And if I can’t fucking wear any of these things, I won’t wear anything at all.

Fuck this.

I grab the biggest linen pants I can find and stuff my legs inside, stretching the fabric to the limit as it coils low around my hips.

It’ll have to fucking do.

I’m not wasting another second on this.

With a heavy frown on my face, I throw open the door and step outside again, peering at the kitchen to see what she’s up to.

Only to be met by the biggest eyes I have ever seen, along with a jaw that’s almost on the floor.

And my boner just got twice the size again.

* * *

April

I checkthe kitchen cupboards to see if they left something. Some plain spaghetti nearing the expiration date sits in the corner with a can of sauce that’s still good. My mouth already begins to water from the thought of eating actual food instead of foraged herbs and mushrooms.

I turn on the gas underneath the stove, which luckily isn’t empty yet. I’ve already placed some pots on top when Soren came out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel.

And I don’t know if the thought of food or the thought of him just made my mouth water.

Suddenly, the door to the bedroom opens again, and he steps out in even less fabric than before.

I didn’t think it was humanly possible to look that attractive, but apparently, I was wrong.

Dead-wrong.

Because the mere sight of him standing there, barefooted, wearing nothing but a thin mesh of linen strapped around his hip bones, showing that V-line along with those rippling muscles, sets off something inside me that I can only describe as a blazing fire met by a tsunami of wetness.

Especially when I notice the half-hard dick swaying back and forth as he walks.

Good God.

If there is perfection, this is it.

He cocks his head at me, a smirk appearing on his face, but it’s enough to make me pick up my jaw and swallow hard.

I swiftly look away, hiding my red cheeks by focusing on the pots and pans in front of me. But all I can think about is how I want him to be the lid to my pan.

Fuck.

I’ve really lost it, haven’t I?

I can hear the chair being scooted back. He’s probably sat down at the table, watching me this very moment. I can feel his stare penetrating my back, and it’s making it hard to breathe.

I close my eyes and sigh to myself.

Stop. Focus. Don’t let him intimidate you with good looks.

“What are you doing?” he suddenly asks as I put up a pot of water.

“What does it look like?” I quip.

“Hey.” His low voice immediately makes me look at him. “Don’t get sassy on me.”

He sits there in one of the wooden chairs with his legs spread, looking dominant as fuck, but I know he can’t handle another fight right now.

“I’m cooking us some food,” I add, emptying the can into the pan. “So just sit and wait.”

“I’m not hungry,” he replies, cocking his head.

“Yeah, well, you need food to sustain that body of yours.” I point at his chest, which is still covered in claw marks. “So just sit and wait for dinner.”

“April …”

His low voice brings goose bumps to my body even though I try to ignore it while stirring this pot.

“April.”

He’s never called me by my name like that.

Like he wants to call me over.

Like he wants to set me down on the table and eat me instead.

I turn around, clutching the stove like it’s my only lifeline. His eyes swipe over my body slowly, his Adam’s apple moving up and down, and I suddenly lose my balance against the stove.

I slip but manage to catch myself on the counter.

In a second, Soren’s already stood, biceps thick and hard as he clutches the table that could break under his weight.

“What happened?” he asks.

“N-nothing,” I mutter, trying to gather myself.

His hands are still firmly on the table, and I can’t help but focus on his fingers and just how big they are … and how good they would feel on my body.

I almost choke on my own saliva.

Stop it, April! Just stop.

I hold up my hand. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” he says, cocking his head in a way that makes him look even more intimidating. Not in a murderous way … but in an “I’m going to rail you against this table” way. And it sets my body on fire.

But it shouldn’t. You’re not supposed to fall for the one who keeps you captive.

“I was just a little shook from the bear attack. That’s all,” I say, waving it off like it’s no big deal.

Even though it is.

Because I am definitely responding to him saying my name.

It makes me feel weak.

Not because it’s my name.

But from the way he says it.

Like he owns it.

Like he owns me.

I shake off the hotness pooling in my belly and stir the pot, watching the food come to a simmer. When it’s finally done, I pour out the water and plate the spaghetti along with the sauce. I bring them to the table, sliding his bowl toward him as I’m too afraid to get near.

I sit down across the table and eat my food in silence, but he refuses to touch it.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” I ask.

He merely stares at me, both hands planted on the table. “Not hungry.”

I know he said that, but I don’t believe it. We haven’t had a decent meal in ages. I’m sure he must be starving. Compared to the amount he used to eat at the house, this is a snack to him. I still remember him chomping away at the bread and fruits, shoveling it all into his mouth like it wasn’t ever enough to him. The memory almost makes the food go down the wrong hole, so I cough and laugh.

“What’s so funny?” he asks.

“Nothing.” I quickly grab my glass of water and gulp it down in one go.

“No, you were thinking about something.” He raises a single brow. “Tell me.”

“Oh … I was just … reminiscing.”

“About?”

He refuses to relent. And the way he looks at me is giving me goose bumps all over.

“Food.”

He narrows his eyes, almost like he doesn’t believe me, and it makes me all too self-aware.

“Just eat, or it’ll go cold,” I say. “And that would be rude.”

He continues to stare at me but finally does pick up his fork, jamming it into the spaghetti as though he’s butchering something. Within seconds, he gobbles it all down, slurping it up until his bowl is empty and his stomach is full. Finally, he licks his lips to clean off the tomato juice while mine drips off my fork because I have not been able to look away.

Especially because his beard is still covered in it.

“You’ve got something.” I point at my face, and he looks at me like I’m joking, but I’m not. “Here.”

He frowns and leans back in his chair. “Where?”

“In your beard.”

He locks his hands behind his head and tilts his head provocatively as if he doesn’t believe me or something.

“I don’t have tissues, but there is a towel in the kitchen.” I grab it from the hook and hold it out to him, but he doesn’t get up.

“Bring it to me.”

Now it’s my time to raise a brow. “I’m not your servant.”

His tongue dips out again in that same provocative way, but his eyes have now narrowed, and my eyes travel down toward his pants and the cock that’s still dangling between his legs in a semi-erect state.

He never got soft.

Not since he left the shower.

Which begs the question … what has he been thinking about that still has him hard?

Because it isn’t the food on his plate, that’s for sure.

“April,” he growls. “My eyes are up here.”

There it is again, my name. Said in such a dangerous way that it makes my head spin.

I was caught in the act, and it’s impossible to hide the redness flooding my cheeks.

He scoots his chair back violently. “Come.”

I suck on my lip and bite as my stomach almost flips upside down. Still, I tread closer, clutching the towel tight as if it’s the only protection I have. But protection against what? I don’t understand what I’m so scared of. Nor do I understand why I listen to him. But I can’t stop gravitating toward him until it’s too late, and I’m right in front of him.

I lean against the table with my butt while tipping forward, trying to keep as much distance as possible between us while I tap the towel against his beard to clean him up. Suddenly, he grabs the towel and tears it away, throwing it to the side.

I shudder in place as he gets up from the chair and towers over me. His sheer size still makes me feel overpowered, especially when he plants both hands on the table beside me, trapping me inside.

“April …” he murmurs with such a low voice that it prickles my senses. “Be honest.”

My lip quivers as he stares me down so hard it’s like he’s penetrating my soul.

“I … I …”

He leans in so close I can feel his breath on my skin, right below my ear.

“You’ve ruined me.”

Ruined him?

How?

“Say you want me …”

My breath hitches in my throat.

“And I’m yours.”

I gasp.

Mine?

Could he be?

No, definitely not.

He can’t. I can’t. We can’t.

“I … want you.”

The words roll off my tongue like I didn’t mean to say them, but I did it anyway. They sound like a whisper in the wind.

But he heard.

He definitely heard.

Because he leans away just to look at me with a glimmer in his eyes and a filthy smirk on his face.

And I know right then and there that I’m in deep, deep trouble.