Page 12 of His Dark Cravings

The first rule gnaws at my mind: "Sir." It sticks to my tongue like glue. I’m Everly Fields, cultured, respectful, but now, in this room, that identity blurs, morphing into something else. Xavier’s expectations are clear, though—obedience, silence, trust.

"I want to hear you say you understand. Say it, Everly."

I swallow, forcing words past the lump. "I understand, Sir."

He holds my gaze for what feels like minutes before nodding. "Good. Strip to your underwear."

I stand there, frozen, as Xavier's words sink in. Strip to my underwear. The command is blunt, no room for interpretation. I glance up at him, hoping to find some sign, some indication that he's joking, that this is all just some twisted game. But his expression is as it always is—calm, controlled, expectant. His green eyes meet mine, steady, leaving no doubt in my mind that he means every word.

My heart pounds in my chest, the sound echoing in my ears. I feel a surge of fear. I've never been in a situation like this before. I've never had to expose myself to anyone like this. The thought of it makes my skin crawl, but I can't ignore the authority in his voice.

Slowly, I reach for the hem of my shirt, my fingers trembling as I grasp it. I pause, my breath catching in my throat. This feels wrong, so wrong. But I know I have no choice. I've agreed to this, to submit to him, to do whatever he says. I remind myself why I'm here, why I'm doing this. For Talon. For my brother. I need to save him, no matter what.

I swallow hard, trying to push down the wave of nausea that threatens to overwhelm me. I think about the rules he laid out, about the safe words, about the trust he expects. Trust. It's a word that feels like a betrayal now, a word that cuts deep into my soul.

I take a deep breath and slowly pull my shirt over my head, dropping it to the floor beside me. My hands move to the waistband of my pants, hesitating there for just a moment before I force myself to continue. I push them down, stepping out of them and standing there in my underwear. The room feels colder now, the air chill against my skin. I want to cover myself, to hide, but I don't dare. I keep my eyes on Xavier, hoping to find some mercy in his gaze, but there's none to be found.

He looks at me, his eyes raking over me as if inspecting something he owns. I feel a surge of humiliation, of degradation, but I bite it back. I have to keep going. I have to see this through. I tell myself it's just physical, that it doesn't mean anything. But deep down, I know that's a lie.

I stand there, exposed and vulnerable, waiting for his next command. I know what's coming, and I'm not ready, but I have to be. And so I wait, frozen in fear.

Xavier steps away to pick up one of those whip things, the leather tails swishing and swaying.

"This is a flogger. It's for sensation," he explains patiently. "You'll need to stay still. Do you understand?"

As Xavier raises the flogger, I brace myself, muscles tight. The leather tails flick through the air, landing on my shoulder. The impact jolts me, a sharp sting surging through me, and I gasp. My body jolts forward, but I freeze, his rule ringing in my ears.

"Still," he says, tone firm, a gentle reminder lacing his words. I try to steady my breathing, focusing on the ground beneath my feet as the leather trails down my back. The flogger's caress sends a shiver down my spine, but it's pleasant, almost soothing—until the next strike comes.

The tails slap against my lower back, and the sting rushes through me again. I shift instinctively to the side, trying to bear with the feeling.

"Still," Xavier repeats, his voice edged with a reprimand this time, sharp enough to make me straighten immediately.

A third strike lands harder yet, mid-back, and the sting is more intense. I shiver as the warmth begins to seep in. Beneath the pain, there's a strange tingling heat that I can’t quite explain. It doesn’t feel good exactly, but it doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. My fear and anticipation start to mix with a curiosity I’m barely becoming aware of.

What's going on?

I stand before Xavier, my underwear the only barrier between me and his inspecting gaze. The flogger in his hand swings with a rhythm I can’t quite place. He raises it again, swinging with more force this time. The leather tails snap against my skin, carving a line from my collarbone to the curve of my hip. The impact stings, but the strange heat it leaves behind is perplexing.

Another strike lands on the soft flesh of my stomach, and I bite down on my lip, holding back a cry. My skin tingles, not just from the pain but from something unfamiliar.

Xavier steps closer, the flogger in his hand grazing my nipple. He doesn’t strike, just teases. My breath hitches. I try to stay still, but the warmth spreading through me is making it harder.

He moves the flogger lower, trailing it along my thigh. Then, with a sharp flick, it snaps against the flesh. I gasp, the sting sharp. But the heat following it is so intense I can barely concentrate.

He circles me, the flogger now tracing patterns across my skin. Each strike is purposeful, controlled. He’s marking every inch of me, and I can feel the heat rising, glowing under my skin.

The blows continue, each one sharper, more insistent. I can’t help the small cries that escape, but I don’t move, don’t flinch. I’m acutely aware of every sensation, the pain blending into a strange kind of pleasure, a release I've never experienced.

He stops in front of me, studying me intently. The flogger slips through his fingers. “You’re glowing,” he says, his voice even.

I don’t answer. I’m focused on staying still, on enduring this. But the warmth in me is growing, spreading. It’s not just from the flogger now. It’s from the way he’s looking at me, the way his hands are tracing the marks he’s made.

He steps back, the flogger swinging again. It whips across my waist, the sting sharp. I gasp, my hands trembling at my sides. The room is quiet except for the sound of the flogger and my shallow breaths.

Another strike lands on my hip, and I bite my lip again. The heat is so intense now, my skin burning under the impact. But I’m still standing, still holding on.

Xavier stops abruptly, stepping close enough that I can feel the heat of his body. He brushes a finger against the glowing marks on my skin.

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