Page 13 of His Dark Cravings

“You’re taking it well,” he says softly, approval in his voice.

I don’t respond, but I can feel his eyes on me, watching every reaction. His touch adds to the fire already burning in me. I’m aware of every inch of my body, every place he’s touched with the flogger. It’s overwhelming—and I’m not sure if I want it to stop.

“Enough,” he says.

I’m left standing there, glowing and trembling, the heat still burning in me. I’m not sure what just happened.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, voice low, his presence an anchor in the storm.

My throat is dry, words tangling on my tongue, but I manage a whisper. "I… it's intense," I say, panting softly.

As he steps closer, the light catches the sharp angles of his face, making his features appear even more carved, more defined. There's something about the way he's studying me that makes my breath catch. His green eyes seem to see right through me, yet there's a flicker of something else there—something that looks almost like curiosity.

I notice the way his voice sounds when he speaks, low and steady, like a constant hum that makes my skin prickle. His chest is broad, the fabric of his shirt stretching just enough to hint at the muscles underneath. I find myself staring at his hands, strong and sure, the way they hold the flogger with an ease that's both intimidating and oddly reassuring. I catch the way his hair curls slightly at the nape of his neck, the way his jaw flexes as he concentrates. He's even more imposing up close. But I don't hate it.

I never noticed him like this before.

My nipples tighten under my bra, a reaction I try to ignore, but it's hard to deny. I don't want him to see and make assumptions about my body's reactions. Or do I?

He steps back again, a shadow of a smile playing on his lips as he meets my eyes. His expression is soft now, dancing with satisfaction.

"Good," he says, his voice matching the warmth I feel. "You did good. We're done for tonight."

I take a careful step back, each movement slow, the unfamiliar sensations still lingering on my skin like a gentle echo. The sting has faded, replaced by a strange gratitude for the unexpected feelings, yet confusion lingers. Why did it feel oddly good? And why does Xavier find this so satisfying? Understanding is hard to grasp—there are only questions and a quiet tolerance for the night's experience.

I dress quickly, my hands still shaky. When the dungeon door closes behind me, I find Sable in the hallway, leaning against the wall. I jump and give a pathetic little yelp. I didn't expect her.

"So," she says, her voice light but sharp. "How was your first session?"

"It was..." I hesitate, unsure how much to share.

Sable snorts, not waiting for me to finish. "Just remember, he's all about control. Don't let him take yours."

Before I can respond, Winter appears at her door further down the hall, her expression calm but serious. "Everly, come here."

With a confused glance at Sable, I slip past her and follow Winter into her room. It's sparse but elegant—just what I'd expect.

"You need to be smart," she says, sitting on the edge of her bed. "Find your strength. That's the only way to survive here."

I nod, grateful. "Thank you…" But I can't keep the confusion from my voice. "Winter, why..." I trail off, unsure of how to express the chaos inside me.

She waves a hand dismissively, her expression softening. "Don’t let anything Sable says sink in." Her voice is steady, calm, and for a moment, her icy façade melts away, revealing something warmer. "She’s stuck in her own struggles. Don’t take her advice."

Her words catch me off guard. It's the first time she's shown any warmth, and I'm unsure how to react. But before I can say anything, Winter’s expression hardens again.

"Go to your room. Stay there tonight." Her tone leaves no room for argument.

I nod, but my mind whirls. Her sudden sweetness and quick change back to her cold demeanor is puzzling. I leave, my thoughts tangled, but I understand: Trust Winter’s guidance for now.

Back in my room, I shut the door and lean against it, trying to catch my breath. My mind is a storm, thoughts clashing. There's the fear of the unknown, the guilt of these new feelings, the resolve to stay strong. I know I need to navigate this carefully, but where does that leave me? And who can I trust in this tangled web of desires and control?

Tomorrow will bring new challenges, and I need to face them head-on. But for now, I just need to breathe and believe in myself, in the strength I know I have.

I run my hands over my still-hot skin. I let Xavier do this to me.

And I didn't hate it.

Chapter 5

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