Chapter 20
20
I ’m back at square one after being shot up with wolfsbane and sedatives following my escape attempt. The sedatives have long since worn off, but the wolfsbane is taking longer to work its way through my system. I can’t feel my wolf yet, but she should be getting close to surfacing by this point. My full moon plan could still work. Until then, I need to bide my time, build my strength, and wait patiently for opportunities to present themselves.
That’s how my dad would play it. He’d keep his eyes and ears open, carefully watching and waiting for an opening to strike. He was a superior strategist, which was why the security squad came into fruition in the first place. He saw the need for a central team of warriors to serve the alliance; not only to defend the territory, but to foster camaraderie between the six separate packs that came together to reside there. Through each of the Alpha families having a place in squad leadership, they forged bonds and became like family- and now, my friends and I are carrying on the tradition as their progeny. That unity is what makes the six-pack alliance so special. Our connection runs far deeper than the land we call home.
When people see me with my mom, they often comment on how similar we are. Fallon Eastwick-Kessler was nicknamed ‘barbie beast’ back when she joined the squad, and I’m her spitting image. But while it’s true that we’re both tall blondes who can kick ass and take names, I’ve always related more to my dad when it comes to how I approach problem-solving. I like to think I inherited his knack for strategy. That’s what’s going to carry me through until I get out of here; patience and perseverance in the long game. I’m going to play this so well that Cam will be like Julius Caesar when Brutus stuck the knife in.
Et tu, Luna?
Yeah, that’s the murderous fantasy keeping me going. The two of us always wind up sweaty and naked at some point in the fantasy, too, but my insane sexual attraction toward my captor isn’t going to keep me from doing what needs to be done to get home. My family and friends are depending on me to make it out of here alive. I won’t let them down.
Although it’s annoying to wait around for my wolf to resurface, at least I already have the advantage of knowing how they’re slipping me the wolfsbane so I can avoid it. When my breakfast tray is delivered, I don’t eat the crackers. I polish off everything else, then angle my body away from the camera to slip them into the top of my sports bra, just like yesterday. I’ve discovered that the hole I made in my mattress to hide the knife wasn’t a total waste, because it’s a perfect place to stash the crackers. I just have to be sly about it since that camera’s always on me and I don’t want Cam getting wise to what I'm doing.
Now that I know he’s the only one watching, I find myself glancing up at the camera more often, strangely titillated at the thought of his eyes following my every move. Too bad he doesn’t realize it’s just another tool I can use to play him. He can’t help his own sick fascination any more than I can, which is why I know there’s a good chance he’s watching as I slide my tray to the floor and lay down on my bed, rolling onto my stomach. Propping myself up on my elbows, I glance toward the window and mindlessly swish my feet, as if I’m just taking in the pathetic view of the world outside my cell.
This is all carefully planned, though- from the position of my body to my lack of pants. I stripped them off last night and slept in my black thong while cooking up this exact scenario in my mind.
Shifting my weight on the flimsy mattress, I lift my hips slightly, coaxing the hem of my t-shirt to ride up and flash the camera a view of my bare ass. The move is intended to distract from what I’m really doing. One by one, I methodically fish the crackers out of my bra, slip my hand over the front of the mattress, and stuff them inside, keeping my eyes on the window and my ass in the air.
Totally just a blonde bimbo in her underwear looking out the window. Nothing to see here.
Once I’ve successfully hidden every one of the offending crackers, I roll onto my back, tucking my hands beneath my head and staring up at the camera mounted in the corner of my cell.
I wonder if he’s watching me right now, dick in hand, remembering how he chased me down and fucked me in the woods. If it was half as good for him as it was for me, then there’s no way he isn’t thinking about it every time he looks at me. It’s all I can think about when I look at him.
Still staring into the camera lens, I slide a hand out from beneath my head, slowly trailing it down the front of my body. If he’s being a voyeur, maybe I should give him a little show. Drive him crazy watching me until he can’t help but storm down here for the real thing.
A sly smirk curls my lips as I run my fingertips along the waistband of my panties, picturing Cam viewing me on the other end of that camera. I vividly recall the way he looked that night when I manipulated him into jacking off for me as he sat outside my cell. The way his fist moved up and down over his length; how he’d pause and squeeze the tip to keep himself from coming too fast. The look of pure lust in his eyes. I wonder if that’s how he looks right now, secretly watching me from behind a computer screen like a goddamn creep.
I must be seriously disturbed, because that thought shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does. When I slide my hand down into my panties and tease a finger between my folds, the evidence of my arousal is slick. Just like when he chased me down in the woods, I’m wet at the mere thought of my sexy-ass captor and his monster cock.
I guess since I’m already going to hell for sleeping with the enemy, one more time can’t hurt.
A shaky breath escapes me as I start circling my clit with a fingertip, my knees tipping apart to give the camera an unobstructed view of what I’m doing. I stare into the lens like I’m staring right into Cam’s eyes, imagining it’s his fingers teasing my clit instead of my own. When I slide a digit inside and pump it a few times, I imagine I’m riding his dick rather than my hand.
Okay, it’s harder to pretend that’s the real deal, considering the size of what my warden is packing in his boxer briefs. Guess I’m still a little bit dicknotized.
My thighs start to tremble, my breath coming out in short pants as the coil in my belly winds tighter with my ministrations. I rub my clit harder, biting my lip to stifle a whimper as I edge closer to climax. I don’t break eye contact with the camera- not even when I fall over the edge of bliss into a toe-curling orgasm, back arching off the mattress as I revel in the bittersweet rapture of release.
Within minutes of riding it out, I hear the beep of the lock disengaging at the top of the stairs, a twisted sense of victory spearing through me. I’ve barely even managed to catch my breath by the time Cam emerges at the bottom of the staircase, stomping toward my cell like a man possessed and pinning me with a feral glare as he brandishes the keys to unlock the door.
Well, guess that answers the question as to whether he was watching. He should know better than to allow me to provoke him so easily, but what can I say? He’s clearly caught in my honey trap. Poor guy doesn’t have a chance now, and the more he lets his guard down, the more chances I’ll have to catch him by surprise.
I prop myself up on my elbows, cocking my head to the side as I watch him fumble with the keys in the cell door. “What’s up?” I ask coyly, giving him my best fuck-me eyes as I bat my lashes at him.
He’s rattled. I can tell by the jerkiness of his movements and the unhinged look in those dark eyes. The little show I put on panned out exactly how I’d hoped it would, tempting him to come down here and sin with me. But every time he gives in, he’s also giving me an opportunity at gaining the upper hand. My sins could very well be my salvation.
“You know what’s up,” he growls menacingly as he finally turns the key in the lock, shoving the door open and stepping inside. He kicks it shut behind him, swiftly re-locking it from the inside and slipping the keys into the front right pocket of his jeans.
I swear, he’s making this almost too easy.
“I do?” I question, feigning innocence.
He folds his thick, tattooed forearms over his chest, staring me down. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he grumbles. “Anyone could’ve been watching.”
“But didn’t you say that you’re the only one with access?” I ask sweetly.
Cam’s frown deepens.
Rolling my eyes, I push to sit up on the cot, swinging my legs over the edge. “You’re right, I’ve been bad. Maybe you should spank me or something,” I suggest with a wink.
“Enough with the games,” he snaps, his shoulders bunched with tension as he advances a step toward me. “You seem to be forgetting that you’re a prisoner here.”
I shoot to my feet, folding my arms underneath my boobs to mirror his stance. “And you seem to be forgetting that you’re my warden, but here we are,” I say, flipping my hair back. “So whatcha gonna do about it, big man? You know you didn’t come all the way down here just to yell at me.”
He stalks in my direction, stopping short right in front of me. With every breath, our chests almost brush, his dark eyes intense as he holds me hostage under the weight of his glare.
"Looks are free, but touching will cost you,” I whisper, meeting his unwavering stare with defiance.
The corner of his mouth ticks up. “Oh yeah, what's the price?" he murmurs.
My lips spread into a smug grin. "Your soul."
“Sold that a long time ago,” he remarks, snorting a wry laugh.
I wet my lips with my tongue, his gaze flickering down to my mouth to track the movement. “You wanna know what I was thinking of when I was touching myself?” I ask as his eyes return to mine.
His Adam’s apple bobs with a swallow as my hands land on his belt. “Don’t,” he chokes, cuffing my wrists with his hands. He doesn’t lift them from his belt, though. He just holds them in his grip as he stares at me, the muscle in his jaw feathering while he fights that internal war with himself once again; the same one he struggles with every time we get close. He doesn’t want to want this, but he can’t help himself.
Welcome to the fucking club, dude.
“Then stop me,” I challenge, slipping my fingers beneath the leather strap of his belt to unfasten it.
He yanks my hands away in response, but he doesn’t exactly put a stop to what I’ve started. Instead, he releases my wrists and brings his own hands to his belt, proceeding to undo the buckle, pop the button on his jeans, and shove them down his hips, all while holding steady eye contact with me. The metal buckle of his belt clinks when it hits the concrete floor and I sink my teeth into my lower lip as I gaze up at him with unbridled desire. I’m not much of an actress, but it sure helps when I’m playing a part that I don’t have to fake. Even though I just came less than ten minutes ago, there’s a needy throb pulsing between my thighs and that impressive bulge in his boxer briefs is the only cure.
A devious plan takes shape in my mind as I slowly sink to my knees in front of Cam, eyeing his rumpled jeans on the floor around his ankles. The keys to the cell are right there in the pocket. All I need to do is swipe them without him noticing, then make a break for the door while he’s still got his pants down. I’ll lock him in, then force him to give up his car keys and the passcode to get out of the basement. I could be back home before dinnertime.
The look in Cam’s eyes as he stares down at me is pure sex, tinged with reverence and awe. Something tells me he’s never met a girl quite like me before and he’s not sure how to handle it. Too bad he’ll live to regret ever crossing my path.
He claims he already sold his soul, but now I’m on my knees, prepared to sell my own to the devil himself.