Page 26 of His Dark Cravings

“Just leave me alone,” Sable mutters without looking up. “Before I say something I’ll regret.”

I hesitate for a moment before turning and walking out.

So much for wanting to get closer.

* * *

“On your knees.”

Xavier's voice, a low rumble, vibrates through me. I obey, the floor cold beneath my burning skin. He circles me, his gaze predatory, dissecting.

“Rule three, Everly.” His fingers trace the curve of my neck, sending a jolt down my spine. “Remain in any position I set until instructed otherwise.” He leans closer, his breath warm against my ear. “No movement. No speaking.”

How does he do this? How does he manage to make me feel so exposed, so vulnerable, with just the sound of his voice and the graze of his fingers? My heart pounds in my ears, a frantic rhythm that drowns out everything but the sound of his movements as he circles me.

The chain above me clinks, a metallic whisper that echoes through the room. It's strange, the way the sound seems to amplify in the silence, as though it's the only thing that exists outside of us. Xavier's hands are cool, deliberate, as he secures cuffs around my wrists. The leather is supple, molding to my skin, and the chain gives a soft rattle as he adjusts the length.

I tilt my head up, just enough to see the chain disappearing into the shadows above. I can feel his eyes on the back of my neck, a steady pressure that makes my skin prickle with heat.

"Look forward," he says, his voice breaking the spell. I obey, my head dropping again.

My body burns with the effort of staying still, of being silent, of being exactly what he wants. But beneath the fire of my restraint, there's a spark, small but insistent, that refuses to be extinguished. It's a dangerous thing, that spark, because it tells me that I'm not just afraid. That I'm not just uncomfortable.

That I'm more turned on than I am terrified.

Xavier comes into my line of view, and he reaches toward me. He trails a finger down my sternum, stopping just above the swell of my breasts.

“Look at me, Everly.”

My eyes meet his, the green depths swirling with an energy that makes my stomach clench. He lets his hand drop lower, his fingers brushing against my clothed core. I gasp, my body arching involuntarily into his touch. I still haven't had any release, not since I stepped foot in this place. He smiles, a slow, predatory curve of his lips.

He peels away my clothes, layer by layer, his touch both reverent and demanding. He spreads my legs wider, anchoring me more firmly to the floor. The vulnerability of my position sends a wave of heat through me, a mixture of shame and excitement.

"For this session, I want you to put your mouth to use."

Wait. What?

I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. I've never done this before. I've never even imagined doing this. But here I am, about to take Xavier Ravenwood into my mouth.

"Go on, Everly." His voice is low, coaxing, as he releases his dick from his pants. "I want to feel those pretty lips of yours."

I lean forward, my heart pounding in my ears. His scent fills my nostrils, and I can't help but inhale deeply. When I finally dare to look down, I see the impressive length of him, thick and heavy, the tip already glistening. I've never seen anything like it.

"I-I don't know… I-I mean, I haven't..." I can barely speak, my eyes wide.

"You'll learn." His hand cups the back of my head, guiding me closer. "Just take it slow."

I part my lips, my breath warm against him. I hesitate, unsure of where to start, but his hand presses gently, urging me forward. I close my eyes and let my mouth envelop him, my tongue tentatively exploring the smooth head.

"That's it," he encourages, his voice hoarse. "Just like that."

I begin to move, my mouth sliding down, taking him deeper. His hand tightens in my hair, guiding my rhythm. I can feel his length, the veins beneath my tongue, and I moan softly around him, the sound vibrating through him.

I'm not sure what I'm doing, but I'm trying. I focus on the sensations, the taste of him, the way his body tenses. I want to please him, to show him that I can do this.

But I don't know what's making me feel this way. Is it because he hasn't let me come yet?

His hand tightens in my hair, and he begins to move, thrusting gently at first, then with increasing urgency. I can't help but make small sounds around him as I try to keep up. The vibrations seem to add to his pleasure—he groans along with me, thrusting deeper. His other hand grips my shoulder, steadying me as he takes control of the pace.

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