Page 38 of His Dark Cravings

Before I can respond, her tongue flicks out, teasing my clit. I cry out, my body arching off the cross as she begins to feast on me, her mouth and tongue working magic.

My eyes seek Winter, and I find her watching me, her fingers still moving between her legs. She bites her lip, her eyes dark and hooded with desire.

"Do you want to see me come, Everly?" she asks, her voice thick with need.

I nod eagerly, my eyes glued to her body as she touches herself, her breasts swaying as she rocks against her fingers.

Sable's mouth works relentlessly against me, her hums and moans vibrating against my sensitive flesh. My body trembles, every nerve ending singing with pleasure.

Winter steps closer, her eyes never leaving mine. She slides her fingers into my mouth, and I suck on them eagerly, tasting her. Ohh fuck, she tastes so good.

"That's it, Everly. Suck my fingers like you mean it."

I moan around her digits, my eyes rolling back in my head as Sable's tongue flicks and teases. My entire body is on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release.

"That's it, little bird," Sable murmurs, her breath hot against me. "Come for me."

I rock my hips into her mouth, fast, faster. I want to come just like she asked me to. I want to please her. Sable moans into my pussy, and Winter's taste fills my mouth. I'm humping her face like a woman possessed, thinking only of coming just like she wants me to, like a good girl.

I come with a cry, my body shaking, my release exploding through me like a thousand stars. I suck hard on Winter's fingers, my eyes fluttering open to see her watching me.

"That's my good girl," Winter purrs, stroking my hair. "So beautiful."

Sable stands, a satisfied smile on her lips. "Not bad at all."

As I catch my breath, the weight of my climax still resonating through me, Winter gently strokes my hair while Sable releases the restraints. My body feels both drained and oddly light, as though the intensity of the moment has purged me of all resistance.

Sable's hands move tenderly over my skin. "You did beautifully, Everly," she says, her voice softer, almost affectionate. Winter's approval is in her gaze, her expression a blend of pride and warmth.

I feel a lump form in my throat, not from pain, but from the unexpected tenderness they're showing me. They guide me to sit, and I notice the way their hands linger, offering comfort and support. This moment, in its quiet intimacy, feels like a bridge crossed, a silent understanding shared between us.

As I look at them, I realize how much I've opened up, not just physically, but emotionally. I wonder, as they help me steady myself, if this is the beginning of something deeper, something I'm still learning to embrace.

Chapter 12

Everly

I wake to the soft dawn light filtering through the curtains, my body a map of sensations. The soreness is there, a delicious ache in my muscles, a reminder of the night before. I stretch languidly, arching my back, feeling the pull in places I never knew could feel so alive. My hands drift over my skin, tracing the curves of my hips, the swell of my breasts. It’s the first time I’ve touched myself like this, not out of necessity or hurried routine, but simply because I want to. Because I’m curious. Because I’m beginning to understand that my body is mine, and it’s okay to like the way it feels.

I don’t feel dirty. That’s the strangest part. I expected shame or guilt or some lingering dread. But there’s none of that. Instead, there’s this warmth, this quiet pride in having stepped into a part of myself I never let myself see before. Last night wasn’t about submission or control; it was about desire. I let myself feel it.

I still feel it now.

I smile to myself, a small, private smile, as I swing my legs over the edge of the bed. My feet dangle, and I press my toes into the soft carpet, grounding myself in the moment. The room feels different this morning, like the shadows have retreated just a little.

When I look into the bathroom mirror, my hair is a mess, my face soft with sleep, but my eyes look different. Brighter. More aware. I brush my teeth, the mint sharp against my tongue, and splash water on my face, the coolness prickling my skin. I pat myself dry with a towel, then give myself one last look in the mirror, lingering for a moment on the swell of my breasts, the curve of my neck, the place where my pulse beats steadily. I’ve never really looked at myself like this before, not with this kind of attention.

I smile again, this time at my reflection, and she smiles back, her cheeks flushing faintly. The girl in the mirror looks like she’s starting to understand something. Like she’s stepping into a secret that’s been waiting for her all along.

The kitchen is filled with the aroma of coffee and an underlying tension when I step inside. The room feels heavy. Lila sits at the table, her dark curls piled haphazardly on her head, her emerald eyes flicking up from her phone to meet mine. Winter is beside her, her sharp bob gleaming like frost in the sunlight, her expression as impassive as ever. Sable stands at the counter, her fiery hair tied back in a messy knot, her toned arms crossed over her chest as she stares out the window.

“Good morning!” I greet them brightly, hoping my voice might cut through the fog.

Lila lifts her head, her full lips curling into a half-hearted smile before she goes back to her phone. Winter doesn’t acknowledge me at all, her ice-blue eyes fixed on some point beyond the windowpane. Sable turns her head just enough for me to catch the sharp angle of her jaw, her hazel eyes narrowing slightly before she turns back to the view.

The silence that follows is oppressive, a living, breathing thing that presses against my chest. I pour myself a cup of coffee and make a bowl of cereal. I take a seat at the table, trying to ignore the way Sable’s shoulders tense at the sound of my chair scraping against the floor.

“So,” I say, forcing lightness into my voice, “did you all sleep well?”

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