Chapter Eight
SAIGE
After Camden rearranged my brain chemistry, I got into bed, not sure what else I was allowed to do, but at least I didn’t have cuffs on.
Camden didn’t try to push the conversation again, but I know I’m not going to be able to last much longer without finding a way to kill him, escaping, or coming clean about everything.
As much as I should be planning one of those things, my mind is whirling with the way he spoke to me, the heavy weight of his body on mine, his minty breath on my face as he spoke, low and deep, the way he sucked my fingers clean and seemed to want more.
I shouldn’t want him. Everything in my head is rebelling against wanting this man, but every molecule in my body is screaming at me to get him closer.
I don’t understand it. He took everything from me, everything, and I want to fuck him?
I want to be wrapped in his arms? I want to believe his pretty words that I’m safe with him, that I’m protected, and that he’s there.
What is wrong with me? It’s been two days.
Stockholm syndrome is real if I’m starting to feel things for my captor.
Even if they are dirty, pleasure-filled feelings that I have no doubt would make me feel so much better, if even for just a split moment, until the regret crashed in like a tidal wave.
I can’t sleep with the man who ruined my life, unless I slit his throat while I’m fucking him senseless.
Camden fed me lunch and dinner, and whoever is cooking, I hope lives a long life.
I don’t even want to think about the fact that they’re involved with this club, because it’ll taint the image I have of them.
Camden and I spend the evening in silence, him working on his laptop while I sit on the bed and stare out the window.
The late-summer sun filters orange and yellow light through the screen as it slowly dips behind the mountains.
It’s been two days since I’ve been outside, since I’ve felt free, and I yearn to be out of here.
Yearn to be on the road, the wind in my hair, the low rumble of my bike under me, nothing but open road and fresh mountain air around me.
I wasn’t meant for stagnant and stationary.
“Where’s my bike?” I ask, breaking the silence stretching between us. Camden looks up from his computer, his boots crossed at the ankles as he relaxes into the chair. My eyes roam over the colorful tattoos that ink his arms, the veins that throb, pumping blood through his body.
“It’s safe.”
“Do I get it back?”
“Someday.”
My bike is an extension of me; I don’t want to live without her.
I had to save for a long time to be able to afford her, especially if I wanted my inheritance to last as long as I needed it to.
When my parents died, they luckily had a will and a paid-off house, so I wasn’t homeless.
But there weren’t a whole lot of liquid assets that helped.
Instead of going away to college that weekend, a point I had worked my entire educational career to get to, that prospect vanished.
I got a job and enrolled in community college until I applied for law school. Having the house to go back to made leaving a bit easier, but being away had its extreme ups and downs. Until I met Sebastian. Then the loneliness lessened ever so slightly.
After a few hours of boredom, I start to doze off, my head flopping to the side and jerking back up. Camden is there a moment later, the cuffs in his hand.
“What the fuck? You aren’t serious.”
“Hey, I don’t want to do this, but I have to sleep, and I don’t trust you not to kill me or the men here.”
Instead of feeding him some bullshit I know he wouldn’t believe anyway, I give him access to my wrists, going against my instincts with every fiber of my being to not fight him. This time, though, he keeps them looser than previous times and wraps them around the lowest rung of the headboard.
“Good night, Saige. I hope you sleep well.” I don’t bother saying anything back. His words cracked open an old, festering wound inside my heart. I’m twenty-nine years old, and I don’t remember the last time someone said that to me.
I wake up sometime later, Camden’s thick arm banded tightly around my torso, his palm flat against my bare stomach.
The room is bathed in darkness, the sun having not started its ascent yet.
I’ve lost all sense of time, only going by the sun rising and setting.
Based on how tired I still feel, it has to be the middle of the night still.
I’ve never woken up with a man spooning me before, and it nearly cracks open my chest, my heart pouring out, desperate and aching.
I listen for his breathing, a slow and steady rhythm that tells me he’s asleep.
The inside of my thighs is damp, my dreams haunted by the relentless torture of this man between them, worshiping me the way he’s made clear he wants to.
It would be so easy to fuck him, to let him have me, to take from him.
There’s no doubt he’d make me see stars.
I rub my thighs together, looking for just a bit of friction, when my ass bumps into the hard outline of his thick cock.
And holy shit is it thick. And long. All rational thought goes out the window as I tentatively press back against him again, rubbing the outline of his cock against my ass.
I’ve never been so wet before, my inner thighs damp and sticking together.
My panties are soaked, and I know if he moves me up higher, if his cock were between my legs, I’d coat him with it.
Camden’s fingers twitch against my stomach, his hips grinding forward slightly, enough to let me know he’s waking. I freeze, my body seizing up, a desperate whine on my lips that I swallow down.
“Don’t stop, vixen,” he says, his voice deep and thick with sleep. “You need to come? Make yourself come. Use me, take what you need.” I have a moment of pause, my clit throbbing relentlessly, my core aching and needy. I hate this man. But I’m so worked up, I might explode if I don’t get off.
Fuck it.
I try to scoot myself up higher, searching for friction, when Camden squeezes his thigh between mine, pressing it firmly between my legs, his big dick right at my ass.
“Ride it.” A demand. A request. I don’t know and don’t care; all I know is I need to come, and with my back turned away from him, I close my eyes and let myself go.
My scantily covered pussy weeps at the warm contact of his bare thigh against the thin cotton panties. I push myself back against it, my eyes fluttering shut as sensations vibrate through my body. It feels so fucking good, and he hasn’t even touched me.
“That’s it, use me. I’m here for your pleasure.
Only yours.” His words go straight to my aching clit.
I’ve never been talked through anything before, always having to figure things out for myself, but god, if his words aren’t working, flowing over me in a filthy caress.
I rock back and forth, my hips gyrating, my swollen clit throbbing intensely as the friction of his leg gives me just enough to push me closer to that euphoric cliff. The one I want to plunge right off of.
“Just like that. Does it feel good? Give yourself exactly what you need, baby. Take it. Work that pussy on me.” What I want to yell is that my pussy needs his mouth on it, but I stifle the words with a long, drawn-out moan.
Camden’s hand stays firmly locked over my belly, holding me close, helping me rock into him.
It feels so fucking good, his skin against mine, how his body fully wraps around me.
I’m overloaded, my body humming with electricity.
“Fuck, Saige, you’re gonna make me blow. You’re so fucking sexy. Feel so good in my arms like this. Love you using me.” Jesus Christ, this man and his mouth. Is he really going to blow his load in his briefs from dry humping me?
“Thought it was only about me, Camden?” I purr.
“Baby, with the way you’re fucking yourself on my thigh, your cunt dripping all over me, the way you feel this close to me, there’s no way I won’t come, I can’t help it, I could come just from watching you use me.”
Camden pushes his thigh up harder, his hand moving to my hip, helping me rock, but letting me lead, letting me take exactly what I want.
I’ve never had a partner like this. The men I’ve had experience with typically want all the control, to wield all the power.
They use sex as a way to make themselves feel good in the moment, and it has nothing to do with pleasuring the woman they’re with.
Camden seems unaffected by letting me lead; in fact, he seems to be getting off on it.
The firm pressure between my legs feels too good, his fingers touching the bare skin of my hip, sending lightning bolts throughout my entire body. His breath is warm on the back of my neck, his forehead resting against the back of my head.
I rapidly spiral toward my orgasm, that cliff just out of reach.
“Let go and come for me, vixen, make me come with you.”
That’ll do it.
Then I’m falling, my body wracked with an orgasm so powerful, so fierce, it rattles my entire body, blood rushing between my ears, the world around me drowning out as tremors work through me.
Wave after wave. I moan, long and loud, my fingernails digging into my palms, tears leaking from my eyes as I ride it out.
“Fuck, Saige, I’m coming!” Camden stutters behind me, his thick cock throbbing against my ass as his orgasm rolls through him.
Strong fingertips grip my hip tighter, his heart hammering against my back.
“Saige! Goddamnit, baby.” His voice is a dark rasp, desperate and hoarse, like he can barely contain the pleasure he’s feeling from seeping into his words.
It’s primal, raw, and so damn sexy. I want to turn in his arms, see the look on his face as he comes down from his high, but I know I can’t.
I’ll be met with the same face I’ve looked at for the last decade, wishing for his demise.
The post-orgasm haze starts to clear, Camden’s fingers rubbing slow circles at my stomach, as if he doesn’t notice he’s doing it at all. I have the strongest urge to cry, and I don’t know why. I got exactly what I wanted from him, but why do I suddenly feel hollow and so right at the same time?
“That won’t happen again,” I tell him in a whisper, but maybe it’s to hear myself say it out loud, speaking it into existence.
“Lie to yourself all you want, vixen, but we both know you just came harder than you ever have before, and I didn’t even touch you. It’ll happen again.”
I fall asleep with Camden at my back, tears filling my eyes, and confusion warring in my head. For the first time since my parents died, I wish for sleep to take me.