Page 47 of His Dark Desires

"I heard you got mixed up in some shit," Daniel says, striding into my apartment like he still belongs here. His cologne—woodsy and familiar—fills the space.

I snatch the wine bottle from his hand. "Not really in the mood to talk about it." The cork comes out with a satisfying pop, and I busy myself finding two clean glasses.

"Come on, Soph." He settles onto my worn couch, spreading his arms across the back. "The whole art scene is buzzing. Your name's everywhere. What happened with Vale?"

The wine sloshes as I pour, nearly spilling over. "Nothing happened. We met at a gallery showing. He bought some pieces, offered me a commission." My cheeks burn as I go over to him and hand him a glass, careful not to let our fingers touch.

"Just like that?" Daniel's eyebrows rise. "The most reclusive tech billionaire in the city randomly shows up at your gallery opening?"

I sit next to him and down half my glass in one gulp, the wine bitter on my tongue. There's so much more—the screens, the photos, the sick feeling in my stomach when I realized how deep Adrian's obsession went. I even think about telling Daniel to sort his own tech out since he got hacked—or yell at him for keeping our photos. But the words stick in my throat. Now's not the time for that, not when I need a friend.

"Damn, Soph." Daniel sets his glass down, scooting closer. "You look like you really need some comforting right now."

"You don't know the half of it," I mutter into my wine, drinking more.

His hand finds my shoulder, thumb tracing circles through my shirt. "I can make it all better, you know." His voice drops low, the way it used to when we'd stay up late in his studio. "Let me help you forget about him."

I know what he's getting at, and I lean in, my hands reaching for his face. Our lips meet, and I part my mouth slightly, inviting him to take control. But Daniel's kiss stays soft, almost chaste, his hands resting lightly on my hips.

I pull back, a flicker of disappointment crossing my face. "Choke me," I whisper, almost impatiently.

"What? That's weird, Soph." Daniel frowns, his confusion genuine.

I shift on the couch, guiding him to lie back against the cushions. "Just do it," I insist, my voice firm. "I need you to."

His eyes search mine for a moment, and then he slowly reaches up to wrap his fingers gently around my throat. It's not what I imagined, not what I need. His grip is tentative, his touch too soft. I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. This isn't what I wanted.

"Squeeze," I say, my breath catching. "Harder."

His grip tightens slightly, but it's still not enough. I want to feel the pressure, the loss of control. I want to be consumed by the sensation, to forget everything else for a moment.

"Harder," I repeat more insistently.

Daniel's eyes flicker with uncertainty, but he complies, his fingers digging in just a bit more. Finally, I feel the rush of adrenaline, the spark that sets my nerves alight. My breath quickens, and my heart pounds in my chest.

"That's it," I murmur, my voice thick. "Don't stop."

His grip tightens further, and I let myself sink into the sensation, my body relaxing against his. I forget about Adrian, the surveillance, and the mess my life has become. It's just me and Daniel and the comfort of his touch, however twisted it may be.

I grind against him, stimulating my clit, but I can't feel his dick hard for me. I grind harder, my eyes still closed, one hand caressing his wrist, but still nothing. When I glance down at him, he's watching me with a concerned look on his face. I push his hand away with a sigh and drop down to kiss him.

I need to give him what he wants.

Daniel's lips are warm and insistent, and I let myself get lost in the kiss for a moment. I straddle his lap, grinding my hips against him, searching for some spark of desire. His hands roam over my body, tentative at first but growing more confident as I continue to kiss him deeply.

I can feel his dick starting to harden between my legs, and I grind harder, my thoughts drifting to Adrian's hand around my throat. The memory sends a shiver through me, and I tear my mouth away from Daniel's with a gasp.

"Just use your mouth," I command, my voice strained as I gesture toward my pussy. I need to forget about Adrian, to lose myself in the physical sensation.

Daniel seems relieved to comply, flipping me onto my back and pulling down my leggings and panties in one smooth motion. His tongue teases my clit, circling and flicking. But I find myself unable to surrender to the sensation. It's not enough to push me over the edge, and the ghost of Adrian's touch haunts me, intensifying my frustration.

Despite my lack of reaction, Daniel persists, his tongue lapping at my clit with renewed fervor. His hands grip my thighs, holding me open for his mouth. I can feel his breath hot against me, but my body refuses to respond. My mind is elsewhere, caught in a tangle of thoughts and emotions.

I try to focus on him, willing myself to feel something. Daniel's tongue flicks and teases, his lips sucking gently. His beard tickles my inner thighs, and his fingers probe, searching for the spot that will make me cry out. But my body remains stubbornly inert.

Daniel's tongue delves deeper, his fingers finding my entrance and pushing inside. He stretches me, curling his fingers to find that hidden spot. His tongue swirls, his breath hot and damp against me.

I shift restlessly, my hands tangling in his hair. I want to feel something—anything. My hips lift slightly off the couch, seeking more pressure, more intensity.

---