Page 10 of Darkest Craving

VICTORIA

I promised myself I’d kill this man. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but one day, when his guard is down, I’ll stab him somewhere else—somewhere he can curse me for even in death.

I glance down at his wound, but no more blood is coming out. I guess I wasn’t strong enough to push it deeper inside.

My eyes snap back to his. To the feral look on his face that was just inches away from mine a minute ago. My cheeks heat instantly, remembering what he did to me… what I let him do to me.

I gulp. “No one. You got here before I managed to call.”

“No one,” he echoes, smiling with that usual collected smile of his that sends a shiver down my spine.

I take a step back as he says, “I’ll give you one more chance to tell me the truth.

Because if I ask Corinne to unlock her phone and tell me the last number that was dialed, I promise you, Victoria, whoever was on the other line is not living to see another fucking day. ”

“You’d kill them anyway! Even if I told you.”

“That depends.”

“On what…?”

“On how sweetly you beg me not to.”

I exhale, looking to the side as I retreat to the safety of my mind. It was stupid to call Sasha, I know that now. I put his life in danger, not thinking Wolfgang would threaten with something like this. I thought… I thought he’d take it out on me, which I would’ve been fine with.

Dread envelops me, making me wrap my arms loosely around my waist. “Don’t touch him,” I say, my voice reduced to almost a whisper. “Please.”

He quirks a brow. “Him?”

“My riding instructor…”

“You got access to a phone, and you could’ve called anyone else, but picked Sasha Kasparov? Why is that, love?”

I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. I told you the truth. Now give me your word you won’t hurt him.”

“My word—is that something you’d trust?”

No. But what other option do I have?

“Well… can I? Or is that notion completely foreign to men like you?”

He steps forward, gripping my chin between his thumb and index finger. I can smell my arousal on his skin. And the way he looks at me—with amusement dancing in his eyes—tells me he knows.

“Yes, Victoria. When I make a promise to you, you can trust that I won’t go back on it. I told you, I’m your only ally now. The sooner you start believing it, the better it will be for you.”

I nod once, trying to ignore the burn of his touch on my skin. “So promise me, then. Promise me you won’t hurt or kill him.”

“That’s a demand, not a plea.”

“I asked nicely.”

“And I said I’d do it if you begged.”

“Go to hell.”

He waits in silence, tilting his head slightly. He’s not going to let this go, but I won’t let Sasha get hurt over my pride, no matter how much I hate asking this man for anything.

“Please,” I say, closing my eyes. “Please promise me.”

Another moment of silence, of my cortisol going through the roof as he considers it. I open my eyes as he lets go of my chin, watching me. “No, Victoria. I’m afraid that’s not enough. You’ll have to get on your knees.”

My lips part. “You… you really are an asshole.”

“Lose the dress,” he orders.

More heat floods my cheeks. “What?”

“I said… strip. Get on your knees. You want Sasha to live? I want to see what’s mine. Do it, or don’t, but I won’t repeat myself.”

I stand, bewildered, struggling to find a way out of this.

In his fucked-up way, this is Wolfgang offering me a choice.

My dignity… or Sasha’s life. Only because I was stupid enough to call him.

And maybe because I’m desperate to take some of my power back, or because he really is playing me like a violin, I square off my shoulders and forcefully pull the straps of my dress down, one by one.

I watch him with a scowl as I do it, wanting him to know it’s me who called this shot, as pathetic as it is.

The material slips down my body, and I let it, let it pool around my feet.

Here I am again, facing him with my arms crossed, reminiscent of the day I met him—only now we’re alone, I’m almost naked, and there really isn’t anyone to save me. There never was. He’s still so much taller, and I’m highly aware of the way he’s analyzing me.

“Happy?” I ask.

He shakes his head slowly, extending a hand out to me.

Nostrils flaring, I give him mine in return, because the sooner he leaves me alone, the better.

His touch burns, and for a beat, it makes me forget who I am and who he is, as if some sort of spell envelops the moment.

And it makes me feel things… things I should be negating, but for some reason I don’t. Shame laps at me.

I don’t realize he’s lifting my arm in the air until I’m suddenly spinning in place, like we’re in the middle of a slow dance with only my loud heartbeat as music.

“Good girl,” he whispers, every syllable drawn out, dripping with satisfaction.

A throb begins somewhere between my legs, mimicking my pulse. It’s wanting. Wanting… I don’t know what, but I know it has everything to do with the man in front of me. When I turn my back to him, he releases my hand, and it falls to my side. I don’t know what to do with it.

“Who do you belong to?” he asks from behind me.

“No one,” I murmur. “I’m not an object or a pet you can own.”

“A pet. Hmm, I like that.”

He hooks his fingers behind the lace of my panties, and I suck in a breath.

“F-Fuck you, Wolfgang.”

“We’ll get to that.”

He pulls at the material with cruel delicacy.

I shudder.

Then his hands are on me, on my hips, roaming but touching nothing other than my thighs, then my calves, as he drags down those panties.

Everywhere his fingers brush creates goosebumps in their wake. My panties follow his motion until they, too, pool at my feet.

Cruel, so cruel and so inviting that touch is. It awakens something inside me, something I recognize even though I’ve never felt it before. What a primal thing. What a primal, wicked thing.

I feel him stand back up.

“So pretty,” he muses, his voice rumbling above me, grave and laced with the kind of confidence only owning something could give you. “Who do you belong to?”

His index finger slides up my naked thigh, and I close my eyes, realizing I’m wet again. And it’s that spot right there, at my most sensitive part, that begs me quietly for friction.

“N-No one.”

A low, patient growl tickles my ears. “So unbelievably stubborn,” he drawls. “Even so, I picked you. I wanted you.”

I conjure the question in my mind—the question of why—because I don’t understand his motives. But I can’t make up words or think straight.

All I can do is stand here and feel the way he feels me with his scarred hands, as if I’m in some sort of trance. Another slow, deliberate caress across my thigh has my body melting, and I instinctively lean into him. Fuck .

“Get on your knees, Victoria.”

“Isn’t this enough already…?”

His body collides with mine—his… dressed, and mine… fully naked—and I feel the hard bulge in his pants pressing against my ass cheeks.

What would it feel like? I wonder for just a second, heat traveling down to my pussy. I’m… wet. Wet for this man—this stranger—and I have absolutely no ammo to defend myself with.

But I’m thrown right out of that thought when his knee pushes against the back of mine until it bends and I’m dropping to the floor. Wolfgang steps in front of me, and I have to crane my neck fully to see him for all he is: a monster, even if he never looks like one.

I cover my breasts with my arm, exhaling when his hand brushes my hair, caressing it in slow, deliberate movements. The other one comes under my chin, holding me in place as he looms above me.

“If you make me suck you, I’ll bite off your cock,” I find myself saying.

His eyebrows rise. “Haven’t we decided you were smart? Don’t worry, though. When you wrap those pretty lips around my cock, you’ll be begging me for it with your tongue out.”

“You’re disgusting. And completely out of your mind if you think I’ll ever—”

Without warning, he shoves two fingers into my mouth, and I’m suddenly full of him.

I fumble to stand, but he keeps me in place, pushing down into my shoulder.

His fingers slide deeper inside, almost to the back of my throat, making me want to gag.

When I’m on the verge of actually doing it, he retracts them, then repeats the motion.

“Have you ever even had a cock in your mouth?” he asks, sounding bored. “Look at you, drooling all over yourself.”

A high-pitched whimper escapes my throat, and my thighs press closer together, seeking friction. What is he doing to me? And why do I want him to keep doing it? I stare up at him, noticing the way his eyes have hooded, contradicting his disinterested tone.

“Such a good girl for me,” he says, stretching his fingers across the entirety of my tongue until I’m forced to open my mouth. Drool slides past my lips and onto my chin, mimicking the arousal leaking out of my pussy.

His fingers leave my mouth completely, and I inch forward out of pure inertia. What the hell just happened between us?

“You have my word,” he says, the spell now broken. “I won’t harm Sasha.”

I’m stunned at the ease of his promise, at the willingness of it. But of course, I take it. I rush to say, “N-neither you, nor your family or anyone working for you.”

His mouth twitches upward. “I promise.”

Relief whooshes past my parted lips, giving me the courage to push for more.

“Why did you take me? What will happen to me here?”

“Ah,” he drawls. “A little greedy, aren’t we? When I ask you questions, you don’t answer. And yet you expect me to be open with you.”

That’s fair, I guess. Still, I don’t want him to know anything about me. He’s already seen me naked and made me… come… but at least I still have agency over who I am. Over what I choose to reveal to him about myself. And maybe I could use it to my advantage somehow.