Locked In

11

THEON

Ainsley wouldn’t stop sleeping. Out of twenty-four hours, she was asleep for eighteen of them. She hardly ate either. The only day she managed not to sleep like a log was when Vincent came over, and they’d sat in the living room talking for close to three hours. That was one day out of seven. The rest, she was a ghost, drifting between sleep and silence. Her phone was dead eighty percent of the time, always buried somewhere in her room, out of reach.

I could see her better now, more clearly than before, thanks to the new window I had fixed in her room and the CCTV hidden on the tree outside. It made my surveillance easier, more precise. Too precise.

I was so close to breaking in and screaming at her to get over it. Seeing Ainsley in despair had always brought me some twisted sense of satisfaction, but now it just grated on me, and I couldn’t figure out why. What had changed? Was it because I knew, deep down, that I was the reason she was at the party?

No. It was more than that.

Since I was the reason behind her unemployment, I thought making her see how successful her mates were would slap my senses back into place, and make me get back on track to carry out the multiple tortures I’d planned for her. No, I was wrong.

That bastard, Blake, had made a monumental mistake. His only job had been to get her to the party, nothing more. I didn’t know he had that damn video. It wasn’t until I had nearly beaten him into the ground that he’d admitted why he did it.

Blake had been holding onto the video as leverage, something to dangle over my head in case I decided to post the footage I had of him fucking his stepmother. He thought sending Ainsley’s video to the group was a brilliant way to get back at me—dumbass. It was, and he almost paid with his life.

I was never planning to post the video anyway, but Blake forced my hand that night, and I made sure the consequences followed. His father’s business plummeted in rank so fast, it was embarrassing. His board members had pulled their support, one by one, until there was nothing left. Blake had gambled and lost everything in one move, and he’d been sent out of the country by his father till further notice.

It was midnight again.

That damn familiar pull clawed at my chest, and before I knew it, I was already outside her house. Again. Every night since the party, I’d been sneaking in, unable to control myself. It wasn’t enough to watch from a distance. I needed to be close, to see her in the flesh, just to make sure she was still breathing. Or at least, that’s what I kept telling myself.

I slipped in like I’d done a hundred times before, the lock clicking quietly behind me. My footsteps were silent as I moved through the dark hallway, knowing the layout of her house better than I knew my own. The place smelled like her—like faint vanilla and that perfume she always wore, the one that hit me hard and made me grit my teeth every time I caught a whiff of it.

Her room was dark, the only light coming from the moon spilling through the window. And there she was, curled up in bed, her body barely a shadow under the thin blankets. She was facing away from the door, the gentle rise and fall of her chest the only indication that she was even alive.

I stood beside her bed, staring at her, unable to move for a moment. This was what I’d become—this restless, obsessive mess of a man, sneaking into her house just to make sure she was okay. Again, If I had known confronting her for the first time after several years would bring these feelings back to the surface, I would have aborted this plan and saved myself the struggle of battling with decisions when it came to her. I thought they were buried.

Every part of me wanted to touch her, shake her awake, do something to pull her out of this hollow existence she was slipping into. But I didn’t. Because I shouldn’t.

I just watched.

Few minutes later, I lowered myself on her bed, my hand itching to touch her skin. I found out that I liked it when I did, even if it was to choke her. Any body contact with her was electrifying.

Eventually, I gave into the beast and pulled her cover down to her thighs, and damn, I wish I hadn’t.

Fuck. Blood rushed to my cock at lightning speed.

I’d seen Ainsley walk around her house in panties and strapless tube bra, but seeing it in person made me want to hold her down. The sudden need curled around my stomach and sank into my bones, making me grit my teeth to keep it at bay.

I hated how much she affected me, how much of a control she had over my hormones.

I wouldn’t be able to stand it if I touched her, but I did anyway because I couldn’t help it. She was warm, soft, pliable, and so damn sexy she made me come in my pants sometimes.

My rough palm slid down her body to her hip, loving the smoothness of her curve. My dick hardened in my trousers, every nerve hammering to flip her over and tie her up.

“You grew some nerves today.”

I paused, lifting my eyes to see hers peeling open. She didn’t turn, or try to move my hand from her ass. She stared ahead, at the moon visible through her window.

“You haven’t been sleeping?” She knew I came in here every night.

“It’s hard to sleep at night when that’s all you do at noon.” Her voice was low, cracked.

“I thought you hated me sneaking into your house.” If only she knew I had cameras in here, and I came here just because it felt like I was dead inside without the physical sight of her.

“Would you stay away if I declined?”

I shifted my palm just a fraction, and she tensed a little. “We both know the answer to that.”

Slowly, she moved her gaze from the window, the action almost too graceful, too slow. When she turned, the moonlight caught half of her face, bathing her in a soft, unearthly glow. It traced the curve of her cheek, slid down her neck, and spilled over her body, illuminating her in pale silver. She looked fucking perfect, like a goddess lying there in the shadows, the light teasing across her stomach, rising and falling with every breath she took.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I’ve never been able to. The more I watched her, the more my fascination burned, twisting into something wild, something I couldn’t control. It was as if the moonlight was showing me parts of her I hadn’t seen before. And I wanted more. More. Mo—

My arm shot out, shock rippling through me as I grabbed Ainsley’s hand, shifting it away from her breasts. Did I see that right?

On instinct, she tried to break free from my grasp, but gave up five seconds later, watching me as I watched her breasts through the thin fabric of the tube bra.

She had fucking pierced nipples?

“Why are you staring at me like that? Quit. It’s scary.”

I could vividly make out the subtle swell of the rings with each captive bell. They pressed gently against the fabric, just enough to create a slight rise. The shape was unmistakable—round, smooth, and perfectly centred. The sight sent my mind reeling, my grip tightening around her wrist to hold myself from tearing her naked. She would break. If I let myself unleash right now, I was scared of what damage I might cause her.

My chest pounded. “When did you get a piercing?”

She wiggled her wrist in discomfort “Your hand—”

I forced myself to divert my eyes from her chest to glare. Fuck, I thought I knew everything about this woman. “When?”

She gave in, sighing. “In Melbourne.”

It’d been so long since someone had had me dazed. “That long?”

“Why do you keep staring at me like it’s my fault you had no idea? And did you just say ‘that long’? Were you stalking me in Melbourne?”

“Is there anywhere else I should know of?”

She scoffed.

“I’m very fucking close to ripping your panties to pieces. Don’t make me ask again.”

Fear flicked across her features, her pulse drumming beneath my grip. “No. I was too scared to get a piercing there. I was told it’d hurt.”

I swallowed, let go of her hand and stood up, my brain dried up and my cock stone-hard. She didn’t need to look hard enough to see it tenting my trousers.

When her gaze fell, her chest swelled. She should see. She should see how feral she was making me, how this lust for her soul was growing stronger, wilder and untameable. How it hasn’t ended.

I wanted her to the point of death.

The amount of times I’d imagined her naked and fucked to the point of unconsciousness in my mind should be a crime. I was feeding the beast that was hungry for her, and I didn’t know how to stop it. I didn’t want to stop it.

She thought she had figured it out, but what she knew was ten percent of how deep I was into her. So deep I’d lose my way trying to get out.

“I can see it in your eyes,” she whispered, her chest heaving.

“What do you see?”

She inhaled shakily. “Your feelings. For me.”

That made me chuckle a little. “Feelings?” Such a weak word. “I think differently.”

She was nearly naked, lying down there and staring up at me. If I didn’t leave immediately, she’d be taking my cock down her throat.

“Stop caging yourself and get out,” I said, turning to leave.

“No, thanks. I’ve made a decision to die of depression.”

My jaw clenched, every muscle in me strung tight. She didn’t see me coming until I was hovering over her, my hand wrapping around her neck, squeezing hard for her to feel the weight of what I was about to say. Her lips parted, her lungs immediately starved of oxygen.

“If you die, Ainsley,” I growled, my voice cold, “I will walk through the grounds and the skies to bring you back to life. There is no afterlife without me.”

I leaned closer to let her know how crazy serious I was. “If you even think about slipping away, I’ll follow you into hell itself. You belong to me in this life, in the next, and whatever’s after that. Don’t even dream of leaving my sight.”

Her eyes flicked wide for a second as the grip I had on her throat tightened ever so slightly. She was trembling now, not from fear, but something else. Something she couldn’t admit.

Releasing her, I straightened up and walked away. “There’s no getting away from me, Ainsley,” I said, my voice low, and opened the door. “Not in this world, not in any. I promise.”