Dark Need by Clarissa Wild

Chapter 6

April

My blood begins to boil. “I thought you were going to leave me here!”

He cocks his head and stands up tall and proud, his towering feature making me do a double take and swallow hard as he approaches me. “Remember … ‘Let me go’?” He taps my forehead with his index finger, and a hint of a smile follows, but it disappears quickly when I attempt to lunge forward and bite off his finger.

“Kitty’s got a bite,” he says with a low, rumbling voice that pushes all my buttons.

But I won’t fall for this trap. No, I won’t ever admit I’m glad he’s back. I’ll die on this hill if I must.

He turns around and saunters back to the stack of wood he collected, fishing what appears to be a lighter from his bag. He pushes it underneath the stack, near some of the smaller grass kindling, and lights it. It takes a while for the fire to burn through the wood, but when it does, it’s a welcome warmth compared to the cold of the night.

Even though I’m farther away, I can still feel the heat against my skin, and it makes me wish I hadn’t run away so I could sit in front of it right now.

“Can you … untie me, please? I promise I won’t run.”

He continues poking the fire, all while ignoring me, as usual.

“My clothes are soaked, and I just want to get warm, that’s all,” I add. “Please.”

I mean, a little pleading won’t do me any harm, even if I hate it.

He stops and gets up, and I can’t ever get used to just how big he is when he stands up fully.

But instead of answering me, he hooks his fingers underneath his shirt and pulls it over his head, revealing a super sculpted body with tattoos covering his entire back. Every inch of him, from head to toe, is muscle. His veins protrude the skin with every movement, and I can’t help but feel overwhelmed at this giant of a man standing just a few feet away from me.

Multiplied a thousand times when he turns around to face me.

And all I can think is, oh my God, those pecs are huge. I have never seen a guy this huge.

C’mon, get yourself together, April. He’s the guy who calls you kitten while taking you on some godforsaken trip to nowhere in the middle of the night. Focus on the escape.

Soren only throws me a simple grunt and proceeds to lay the shirt out next to the fire, but far enough away so it won’t burn.

Is he … trying to warm up his clothes to get the water out?

Then he stomps over to me while my eyes are still glued to his chest, unable to peel them away.

“Looking for something?”

Fuck.

I hate that he caught me staring.

But what’s even worse is that I really, really have to pee.

“Can you just take this off, please?” I ask.

“Why?” He cocks his head. “Give me one good reason.”

I don’t look away even though his pecs are right up in my face. “I have to pee.”

A hint of a smile tips up his lip, but it disappears within a flash. “Good try.”

He turns around again.

“Hey, I mean it!” I say, trying to make him stop. “And my clothes are wet too.”

When he moves one foot, I up my game.

“Oh, so you’re just going to leave me here in my own filth? What kind of man does that?”

Then again, maybe he is the kind of man who would do just that.

After all, he seemed a little too familiar with that dungeon at the house.

“Aren’t you supposed to keep me safe?” I add, trying to play on his sense of honor.

He pauses and throws me that same gaze that can only be described as hungry.

And it makes all the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as he approaches me once again. He leans in, a little too close for comfort, to the point that it makes me all hot and bothered as he presses his chest against mine, my nipples growing taut at the touch.

Then the pressure around my waist and arms is released, and the rope tumbles down to the ground.

He untied me.

“Pee.”

I make a face with an awkward smile, but he doesn’t walk off.

“I need privacy.” When he just continues to stare at me with his brows furrowed, I follow it up with, “You know … alone time.”

“I’m not looking,” he answers.

So he’s not letting me pee on my own?

I sigh out loud and roll my eyes. “Great.”

I sink to the floor right in front of him, but he doesn’t move one inch. His hand is still on the trunk of the tree as he keeps a lookout while I stare at his muscular leg, which is bigger than both my arms combined. I gulp when I tug at my pants and quietly untie the waist to pull it down, constantly peering up to see if he’s sneaking a peek.

But he doesn’t. He keeps his eyes wide open and away from me, so I take the chance and let it all out. It’s such a release that I’m not even embarrassed I’m actually doing this in front of him right now.

When I’m finished, I quickly pull up my pants and pretend everything’s fine as I clear my throat.

He looks down. “Are you done?”

I nod, but then he moves to grab the rope again, and I try to stop him by reaching for it too. “Please, don’t do that again. I promise I won’t try to escape again,” I say, looking him dead in the eyes.

We both hold the rope for a second before he points a finger in my face. “Do not run. Or there will be pain.”

I swallow hard. I won’t take that threat lightly. Not with a man like him, who seems to have the strength of a giant.

The sound of my stomach rumbling interrupts our standoff, and when he cocks his head at me, I swear I’m not trying to blush.

Finally, he releases the rope and gets up from the ground again, staring down at me like I’m some kind of pet he just unleashed.

“Sit,” he says, pointing at the fire.

I quickly get up and move to where he pointed, not wanting to anger him any further. Still, I can’t stop looking at him as he hauls two huge logs from the forest and throws them down on the ground in front of the fire. He sits down on one of them and looks at me like he’s expecting me to follow his example. When I take a seat on the other log, he takes in a deep breath and seems to settle down.

He sure likes to talk with his eyes and body, but not at all with his mouth.

And he still hasn’t told me why any of this is happening and why he picked me out of all the girls to come with him. Did he come up with this himself, or did someone put him up to this?

“Why was I separated from the girls?” When he doesn’t reply, I try something else. “Did Eli put you up to it?”

Must be. He’s the one in charge, after all.

Maybe Eli’s finally had enough, and he’s letting everyone go home.

I shake my head. These men are far too evil to be kind like that.

It must’ve been something else.

But why would Soren even do this? What if he’s a pawn in someone else’s game just like me? And would he really try to hurt me if I attempted another escape?

So many questions swirl through my mind, but every time I think of asking one, my brain steps in and reminds me that he won’t answer.

The cold in my body makes me shiver. These damp clothes don’t help much to warm up even though I’m close to the fire.

He pokes at the fire with a long branch and then throws me a glance. “Wet?”

My eyes widen, and my tongue almost rolls out of my dropped jaw.

I splutter, “W-what?”

“Your clothes,” he says, pointing at my breasts, and for some reason, my hands instinctively cover my breasts as if he’s already torn the fabric off my body.

Why do I keep imagining him doing these things to me?

He’s made his stance pretty clear from the get-go.

All of this may be business as usual to him.

Although, I have no clue what the usual business is. The men from that house weren’t exactly easy to divulge information about their jobs. All I know is that they punished people for sins, but I have no clue how. Or why.

No one ever came to me or tried to hurt me.

I did hear others scream.

Those noises would keep me awake at night, wondering when it would be my time.

I shiver again, though I’m not sure if it’s from the fear or from the cold.

“I’m fine,” I say, clutching my damp flannel shirt and pants, wishing I’d had time to put something thicker on before we left. But it’s too late now.

Soren sighs and rummages around in his bag, fishing out a blanket, and he throws it over to me. “Here.”

I don’t know what to say, but I am flabbergasted he’d go this far for me.

Then again, maybe he just wants to stop my complaining.

“Thanks,” I say with a gentle smile, which he doesn’t return, but the look on his face at least isn’t as grumpy as it was before.

I cover myself in the blanket before pulling off my shirt and pants, which stick to my skin like glue. I place them on the ground beside his shirt, keeping the blanket tightly wrapped around my body so it doesn’t slip off.

His eyes are on me at all times, but I don’t know whether to feel embarrassed or flattered.

“You don’t have to look at me like that. I told you I wasn’t going to run … not like this anyway.” I look down at my feet and kick off my shoes too, as my socks are soaked as well. Slipping them off, I place them by the fire.

“No, you won’t,” he reiterates firmly.

I gulp as our eyes connect again. “You wouldn’t … really hurt a woman, would you?”

It’s not meant to be patronizing. It’s an honest question as I have no clue what those men were doing, and I wasn’t privy to any of that information. Everyone always kept quiet around me, like they knew saying anything would be dangerous.

Soren’s eyes narrow. “You don’t know what I’m capable of,” he says, his voice unusually low in a way that makes me quiver on my wooden log. Especially with the deadly stare that follows. “What it is that I do.”

* * *

Soren

Days ago

“Ow!” she yelps.

Her cries are so loud they go through the thick dungeon walls, but I don’t care who hears.

Even though Eli told me to keep my sinners quiet, that doesn’t mean I can’t set an example for the rest who live upstairs.

They should be happy they’re not down here in the basement with me.

Unlike filthy Tiffany over here.

I pick up her head and make her look at me. “Repent.”

She spits in my face instead, and I wipe it off with my hand only to smother her own mouth with it. And I pick up the whip and smack it down on her back so hard she starts to cry.

“Please, stop. I promise, I won’t do it again,” she says, the scent of her fear exciting me beyond control.

“Too late,” I bark, licking my teeth.

She already convinced some guy to fuck her.

A guy who didn’t belong to her, who was already taken.

This is the price paid for seducing someone who wasn’t available.

I whip her again and again, not giving a shit about the bloody streaks I leave on her skin. It’s not often I get a woman down here, so I’m going to enjoy it.

“You sick bastard!” she screeches, but I only get off on the names she calls me.

“Keep calling me that, and I might rip more to shreds than just your clothes,” I growl, a hint of a smile following.

I can’t help it. I enjoy dishing out the pain as much as I like seeing the fear.

It’s how I was born. How I was raised.

And this right here—punishing the wicked for their sins right here in this House—is my calling.

She throws me a foul look. “You like this, don’t you? Just say you want to fuck me yourself. You’re just another horny bastard who couldn’t have the girl he wanted so now you take it all out on me.”

I grab a filthy cloth and shove it in her mouth.

That’s one thing I don’t like about women. They talk too much.

Especially the ones who know they’re wrong.

The ones who sin on the daily.

Ones like her who use their bodies for the wrong purpose.

She thinks I want to fuck her? Upstairs, in those beds? Nah, that’s Eli’s and Tobias’s job.

But women like her don’t respond to fuckery.

They don’t see it as a punishment.

They relish in it.

Which means there’s only one solution to make her beg for forgiveness …

Pain.

* * *

Present

Her lips part. “What do you do then?”

She doesn’t really want the answers to her questions, yet she keeps on asking.

Is she that much of a masochist? Or does she just enjoy her own fear?

My tongue darts out to wet my bottom lip as I wonder what would happen if I do tell her.

No one’s here to listen.

And no one will rescue her if she tries to escape.

I hate speaking, especially small talk, but this isn’t that. I can tell from the serious look on her face that she’s genuinely interested. But she isn’t prepared for my answer.

“I punish people,” I respond.

“In that dungeon?”

When I nod, she swallows.

I hadn’t planned on her seeing where I work, but I needed an alternate route outside so she wouldn’t try to talk to the other … guests.

Anything to stop them from riling each other up and starting a riot.

But now it’s come back to bite me in the ass.

“How?” she asks.

I bite my bottom lip as I stare her directly in the eyes, wanting to savor the moment as she shifts in her seat. “Torture.”

Her pupils dilate, and the expected muscles tighten, her shoulders rising as her thighs clench hard.

“So those tools I saw … you use them on those people?” she asks.

I nod.

She sucks in a breath. “Even women?”

When my eyes narrow, she holds her breath as though she’s afraid I might show her what I do right here and now.

But I promised Eli I’d safely get her to the location, so that’s not an option.

However, no one ever said she needs to know that.

“I thought the women were punished with sex,” she mutters.

“Most of the time,” I reply, still not looking away. “But some …”

“Needed harsher treatment,” she fills in, sucking at the air like she’s struggling to breathe.

Fear settles in her eyes, and I can’t help but tilt my head, a slight hint of a smirk forming on my lips at the sight of her clutching the log underneath her ass. The scent of fear has always excited me, especially that of my victims, but none compare to the smell of hers. The way she inches back as I rub my beard and lean in. The way I can almost hear her heart beat faster and faster at the thought of me chasing her, catching her … doing whatever I want to her body.

Whatever I could.

Smell her hair.

Sink my teeth into her skin.

Suck on her ….

Suddenly, pain shoots down between my legs, my thighs tensing at the volatile sharp sting. My hand instinctively reaches for my cock. I groan and close my eyes while I clench my teeth and force myself to think of something else.

Violence. Blood. Hurt. Slicing.

Anything to take my thoughts away from this woman and from what’s forbidden.

My mind trails off to the safety of the dungeon, to the place I called home for so long. No distractions, just me and my victims. Me and my stone-cold heart.

Pain is what I thrive in.

But this?

Thisis what I cannot take.

Because when I open my eyes, she’s still there, still so very naked, wrapped in nothing but a blanket, and it’s set off something in my body that I do not want and cannot control.

So I get up from my log. “Stay,” I bark before I march off.