Dark Need by Clarissa Wild

Chapter 33

April

Before I can say anything, he gets up from the chair with me still in his arms, and a tiny mouse-like squeak leaves my mouth. With a half-flaccid cock swaying around between his legs, he carries us to the bedroom without even giving a shit about the fact that we’re both still very much naked. Or that I’m dripping juices all over the place.

Without ever taking his eyes off mine, he places me down on the bed and crawls beside me, lying down right next to me. He’s on his side, and I lie as still as possible on my back, trying not to look down at all the rippled muscles and the thing that makes my pussy clench. Because that giant thing was just inside me once again.

And I liked it.

Not just liked it … I craved it.

And I’m split between being giddy about being with a man like him and terrified of the implications.

Because this goes way beyond just sex. Way beyond sexual gratification.

This was something carnal. Something that I could only describe as addictive. And if push came to shove, would I be able to say no?

Would I be able to run, knowing it would mean losing him?

I shiver in place as his hand drifts across my arm, that same hand that was on my pussy not too long ago, and it still gives me goose bumps at the thought of all the pleasure he gave me.

How can a man who knows so little about women crave them so much that he knows exactly what to do to make them beg?

I bite my lip and turn on my side so I can look away, hoping I can quell the beating of my heart.

But he curls up against me and wraps his arm around me, turning me into the small spoon, and it makes my heart flutter with a need I didn’t know I had.

“Can we just stay here?” I murmur.

“For the night,” he responds with that signature low voice of his.

Every time he inches closer, it beats harder and harder.

And when he places a single, soft kiss on my shoulder, I turn into a puddle.

“Why does it have to end?” I ask.

I didn’t mean to say it out loud, but the words just slipped off my lips.

He pauses and leans over to look at me. “You know why.”

I clench my teeth as the gloom begins to sour the moment again. “Why can’t we just stay here? No one would find us here.”

His face darkens, and he looks away. “I have a duty.”

I frown. “Is your duty more important than your own happiness?”

He doesn’t answer, but his tightened face says enough. He’s conflicted, just like I am. So I roll around to face him and bury my face in his chest, taking in his scent, wishing it could just stay like this for an eternity. Even if I know I shouldn’t, even if I know he’s supposed to be my enemy.

Out here, there are no enemies, there are no wrongs or rights, no sinners and punishers.

There are only wants and needs and cravings and survival.

Survive.

That’s what I’ve been doing all this time, even when I seduced him.

But now that he’s here, embracing me in his warmth, giving me tenderness without judging me … I feel loved.

And it’s a feeling I’ve never experienced before, which is what scares me so much.

How could I have fallen for a man like him?

I close my eyes and sigh. “It doesn’t have to be that way.” I twirl his chest hair around my index finger as tears well up in my eyes. “Please.”

His muscles tighten around me, and he presses a kiss to my forehead. “I … want …”

He wants … me?

“Tell me about you.”

My brows furrow, confused. “What do you mean?”

He looks down at me, a sincerity in his eyes that I’ve not seen before. “Tell me about the place you came from before you were sent to the House.”

“Oh.”

Well, that certainly puts a damper on my excitement.

“Did I ask the wrong thing?” he asks, his face so full of honest worry that it catches me off guard.

A blush creeps onto my cheeks. “Well, no, it’s fine. I can tell you. I just … don’t like talking about it. I didn’t come from that place. I wasn’t born there in that cult. But they seduced me with promises about being loved in a community that worshipped God. I didn’t know then what they would want me to do.”

“What did they do?” he asks, genuinely interested. “Did they treat you well?”

I shake my head. “They took me to a cell like some kind of prisoner.” The mere memory still makes my throat clamp up. “They trained us to be obedient. Gave us pain if we didn’t listen.”

His muscles tighten even harder around me, but he doesn’t hurt me. He listens attentively, as though he’s soaking it all in. With clenched teeth, he says, “Tell me more.”

“I was forced to live in a hut with several other women. We weren’t ever alone. They forced us to strip and shower with the entire community, even the men. But that wasn’t the worst part …”

When I shiver, he grabs the blanket and pulls it over us to keep me warm.

“I didn’t want to do it, but they made me. Men tried to claim me. Tried to …” I look away. “I didn’t submit even though they wanted me to because God told them so. Because God told them a woman is to be married to a man and exists only to pleasure him and birth him children.”

Vomit rises in my throat.

He leans up and grabs my arm. “Did any of them hurt you?”

I gulp at the seriousness in his voice. “No. I didn’t let them.”

“Good.”

The way he says it instantly alerts me to the fact that if I said yes, he wouldn’t just let it slide.

I’m sure he’d hunt and kill every one of them.

“So you disobeyed,” he chimes in. “Is that why they sent you away?”

I nod. “It’s how I ended up at the House. I was too defiant. I refused to yield. Refused to play along. And if they consider that a sin, then I’d rather be a sinner.” I swallow hard. “In fact, I hit one of those creeps with a pan.”

A smile creeps onto his face, and he bursts out into a short laugh.

“What?”

“Even then, you were a sassy Kitten,” he muses.

I slap him on the chest. “Soren! Really? And I’m not a kitten.”

He lies back down again and says, “You are to me.” He clutches my face and strokes my cheek with his thumb, silencing any rebellion forming in my heart. “You’re soft. Delicate. Sweet. Pretty. But with claws that can scratch. Hard.”

Now I really can’t stop the redness from flushing my entire body.

“I … I …” Oh God, when did I turn into a pile of mush?

He tilts up my chin. “I want to keep you safe …”

I’m forced to look into his eyes, but I don’t even mind.

I’m completely entranced by the beauty in his tortured soul.

But when he sighs, the spell is broken.

“But?” I mutter, trying to see where this is going.

He closes his eyes and sighs again, pulling me closer into his embrace. “Sleep.”

Sleep? But we’ve finally started talking, and there’s so much I still have to say, so much I still want to ask.

“But I haven’t even asked you about your past yet,” I say.

He grumbles, “You don’t want to know. Trust me.”

“Yes, I do,” I say.

“No, you don’t,” he growls back. “Now sleep.”

I sigh out loud. “Fine.”

He smiles against my forehead and presses another kiss. “I will tell you another time … Kitten.”

I didn’t mean to purr against his chest, but I can’t stop my body’s reactions to his words. Every time he touches me, I want more; every time he inches closer, he steals my breath away; and when he kisses me, I die a little inside.

As I close my eyes, I make a wish …

That when I go to sleep, we can stay here forever … and that I don’t have to regret the beauty falling for the beast.

* * *

When I open my eyes, everything around me ceases to exist. What’s left of the hut is replaced by violent red streaks of blood. Clothes are scattered all around me, and in the distance, behind the door, I hear the calls of men.

I hesitate to step out of my bed but still tread toward the light shining behind the door. I don’t know what pushes me to open it, but when I do, my heart stops, and my knees almost cave in on me.

Fifty men and women are dancing away … naked … while some are fucked in the middle of the rooftop. And I’m left scrambling for air, wishing I understood why. But before I can ask, someone jumps toward me, grabs my hand, and drags me into the crowd.

Straight toward the middle.

While my clothes are ripped off my body.

And my lungs refuse to expel the air needed to scream.

Let me out. Let me go.

I’m crying, but no tears fall down my cheeks.

All I can do is pray for mercy and hope they hear.

But when I blink, all of it vanishes, and I drag much-needed oxygen into my lungs. I’m back in the cabin, back in the bed with Soren resting right beside me. My bed is soaked and the sheets clammy, so it must’ve been a nightmare.

But I can’t shake this dread filling my bones as I look at Soren and how peacefully he seems to sleep compared to me. Every time I close my eyes, I risk dreaming about that place again.

The cult.

The Holy Land where they forced me to do their bidding.

To sleep, dress, eat, and speak however they wanted.

They even wanted to marry me off.

I shiver in place and throw the blanket off. I’m sick to my stomach, so I close my eyes and suck in a few more breaths, trying to rid myself of this poison, but it’s hard.

All I can think of are the conversations I had with Soren and how interested he was in learning about that cult. He never asked me before, and when I tried to tell him, he wasn’t interested. Yet suddenly, he wants to know more. Why?

My body goes from hot to cold in the span of a single second as it begins to dawn on me.

What if …?

My head begins to spin.

No, no, he can’t really be thinking of taking me back there?

My eyes widen.

That was his plan.

That’s why he didn’t want to tell me.

In complete panic, I shoot up from the bed and back away from him. Not because I’m terrified of him … but because I’m terrified of the implications when I stay when he takes me back to the only place I swore I would never return to.

My skin begins to crawl as I pick up my clothes and put them on in a hurry. I go out into the main area and grab whatever I can from the cabinets to fill the bag with necessary supplies. It’s not much, but it’ll have to do.

When I pass the door to the bedroom again, I pause and peek inside. Soren’s still there, happily snoring away as if there isn’t a thing in the world that could harm him. But there is something that can.

I swallow.

I’m about to do the one thing I promised not to do.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, not having the heart to tell him out loud.

I hate to know what he might be thinking when he discovers I’m gone, how he might despise me for leaving him without even saying goodbye, but I cannot risk him waking up.

So I grab the door handle and push open the door while blowing him a final kiss, hoping he might dream of me.

“Goodbye.”