Chapter Fifteen
DYLAN
Ismacked the device on Caine’s desk, rage coursing through me.
The twat had the gall to sigh. “Well, that’s unfortunate,” he said flatly. “I’ll have to install a new one.”
“You absolutely will not,” I seethed, slamming it down again for good measure, making sure it was properly smashed. “You’re not going to spy on me any fucking more!”
A camera. In my bedroom. I was an idiot for not noticing it sooner, nestled at the back of the bookshelf, hidden from unwitting eyes.
I’d only spotted it because Edith bought Minnie some new books and we’d run out of space.
I’d shuffled a few stacks aside, and there was the red dot.
It was so fucking obvious up close. My heart had sunk right to my stomach.
That was how he managed to know every detail.
How he seemed to read my damn mind. My face heated with embarrassment even thinking about it.
All the times I’d muttered to myself or cried believing I was on my own.
I’d known there was CCTV around certain areas of the house, but I didn’t think it was unreasonable to assume bedrooms and bathrooms would be off limits.
Even for someone with little to no morals.
And there I was, under the impression we’d progressed in leaps and bounds since I first got here, living in relative harmony because he was paying attention and acting all doting Alpha, but no.
He was watching my every move. Not that I’d been doing much except reading, sleeping, or playing with Minnie, but it was beside the point. It was a total invasion of my privacy.
What if I wanted to jerk off?
I bared my teeth.
“It was a safety precaution,” he uttered, casual as could be. “Nothing more.”
I scoffed. “You really expect me to believe that?”
“I don’t care what you believe. We live apart, at separate ends of the house.
The sentries stationed outside your door and the surveillance in the hallways can only do so much.
You knew I had eyes on this place. It was an extra measure, monitoring you digitally since I don’t always have the opportunity to do so in person. ”
“I didn’t think you meant in the fucking bedroom,” I snarled at his blasé attitude. “Don’t tell me you have someone else keeping an eye on me too?” I felt violated. It was one thing having my—the Alpha spying on me, but one of his lackeys?
His face darkened. “They wouldn’t dare.”
“So, if I get kidnapped when we’re both asleep, what use are your cameras then?”
“It is motion-sensored. I had it placed there specifically so anyone who walked in the door, or from the en suite, would trigger it. It alerts me through my phone.” He unlocked his screen showing me the app.
“Only the one in your bedroom and Minseo’s nursery are programmed directly to me.
The others go to my surveillance division. ”
I groaned and threw up my hands. “It’s still weird. I could be doing anything!”
“You could, but you don’t,” he offered matter-of-factly, locking his phone and setting it aside.
“And even if you did, do you honestly think I’d be so swayed by the sight of you stuffing your fingers into your needy hole that I’d lose my sense of propriety and take you by force?
I’ll remind you I had you writhing under me in the midst of your heat and I didn’t touch you.
I may be the furthest thing from a saint, Dylan, but I have a modicum of discipline. ”
“You could still jerk off to it—like your own personal porn stash.” I didn’t know why I said it or why the thought made my belly heat, but I expected a scoff or a “Don’t flatter yourself.”
Neither came.
His face suggested agreement. “Naturally, it would turn me on, but I’m not a complete animal. You didn’t consent, and I would never cross that line, even if the sight of you desperate and pleading greatly appeals to me.”
My cheeks had to be cherry red, they were flaming. “Was that the only one?”
“Yes,” he confirmed, and it sounded sincere. “I didn’t want to risk picking up every single twitch and flail. I do value what little sleep I get.”
My anger was depleting, my defensiveness dialling back. I considered what he’d said. He didn’t seem to be lying, but he was a master with words. Blunt too, and he had no qualms about his tongue cutting deep, so maybe it was the truth? Maybe it was purely another way for him to keep us safe?
Caine must’ve clocked the confliction in my expression because he leaned back.
“I should’ve made you aware of their presence,” he said, his voice losing a fraction of its detached edge.
“I don’t apologise for it. My daughter’s safety and yours is paramount to me, but I do regret not informing you of it. For your comfort, if nothing else.”
I guess he hadn’t used it to figure out my needs?
“Fine,” I relented, standing up straight. “You can reinstall it, but promise it’s only for safety precautions, not for spying on my every move or, I don’t know, some weird Alpha powerplay to keep me caged.”
He nodded. “I swear it.”
It was almost dizzying how quickly I went from being ready to tear him a new arsehole to being almost .
. . turned on? Not even that, but I couldn’t confidently say what the feeling was.
A warmth inside my chest at the thought of Caine checking on me whenever he got an alert.
Even during the night, if I woke up to use the bathroom, he’d look to make sure no one had snuck in.
I knew, logically, it was “keeping an eye on my investment” type shit, but he seemed vaguely remorseful for not telling me, and it knocked the wind right out of my sails.
I was crazy. The guy put a literal camera in my room without telling me, but the cables in my brain were merging and I didn’t feel overly mad now.
It was likely my omega parts recognising that my Alpha was taking care of me and our young, all that “provider” nonsense we went apeshit for—and when did I start calling him my anything?
I needed to get out of the house more.
It should’ve heightened my hatred for him, but it didn’t.
I wanted it to, but it wasn’t happening.
He was going the extra mile to do what he promised and keep us safe.
I’d never felt so defended as I did here, and even with the breach of my privacy, now I’d confronted him and he hadn’t lied about it, I still felt the same level of security. Even more so, in fact.
It was bizarre.
He’d abandoned me, he wasn’t a good person, but . . .
Was he already under my skin? Had the “picket fence” fantasy he’d created really lured me in despite my adamance to steel myself from it?
Stupid omega instincts.
I was wide awake, staring up at the ceiling, sleep evading me.
For the first time in an age—outside of my heat—I was really hot and bothered.
My cock was hard, and my hole was slick.
My skin was prickling with goosebumps, and there was a tightness in my lower belly that wouldn’t piss off.
I’d tried rolling onto my other side, and then my stomach, hoping to temper it, but the pressure against the sheets only made me want to rut forward and seek relief.
I was on my back again, and my pulse was throbbing—I could hear it in my ears.
My pyjama bottoms felt restrictive, and the covers weighed down on my chest heavily.
I was conscious of every single graze of cotton against my skin, every twitch in my muscles.
My lips thinned, containing the moan gathering on my tongue as I arched my back, the fabric brushing over my pebbled nipples. My toes curled.
Why was I so sensitive?
Why was I even horny in the first place?
I had the room to myself tonight, so there was no pause in the slide of my hand down my front, or the palming of my aching cock through my pants.
My hips canted upward, chasing the hot stab of pleasure thrumming in my balls.
Another rush of slick soaked my boxers, and the urge to shove my fingers inside, to fill the emptiness I was becoming so keenly aware of, was too much to ignore.
I kicked the sheets off me. It was too hot, too stuffy, and I needed more space.
With one of my knees bent, flopping out to the side, I slipped my hand under my waistband, giving my dick a teasing stroke.
A breathy groan rushed from my lips, my head lolling back onto the pillow.
My skin was burning to the touch, and so responsive to even the barest rasp—the tip already leaking precum. But it wouldn’t be enough.
Letting go, I roved further down, circling two fingers around my rim, my thighs twitching as the nerves tingled.
My hole clenched on nothing. I crooked the digits slightly, ready to plunge them inside as deep as they’d go, but my eyes shot to the bookcase.
To the new camera Caine had already reinstalled there.
I stopped.
It was late, but the Alpha wouldn’t be asleep either. He’d likely be at his desk, paperwork piled high around him, and his phone sitting within arm’s reach.
A wicked thought sparked in me. If the pervy bastard wants to watch . . .
Then he fucking will.
Guided by a feverish lust, and zero regard for potentially regretting it later, I crept out of bed, staying out of the camera’s range as I snuck to my wardrobe, rifling through the toy box at the bottom.
There was so much choice—a variety of vibrators and an array of kinky shit I’d probably never touch .
. . maybe. I swiped past the plugs and beads, and anything smaller than my finger.
That wasn’t what I needed. The two contenders to finally catch my eye were a dildo with straps, and some type of ribbed cock sheathe.
I grabbed both.
Before shutting the doors again, I paused, eying the dress from our shopping trip. The black one, with the off-shoulder straps and a slit up the thigh. It had made me feel incredibly sexy, powerful—and had driven Caine wild.
I grabbed that too.