Page 53 of Cruel Riches

I had a copy of her dorm key now as well—people would give you anything at Blackthorne if you showed them that you were a Lockwood—but I didn’t need it to sneak the tiny wireless-transmitting camera into her room. All I had to do was hide it in a bouquet of long-lasting roses and leave it at her door a few weeks ago. A pretty little welcome gift.

She thought it was from her mother, so she took it inside without a second thought.

When I designed the floral arrangement, I had the presence of mind to attach a large bow to the front of the glass container so that Alexis would make the camera face the right way. It worked. Just as I hoped, she positioned it on a table that gave me a perfect view of the whole bedroom. Anytime she was in there, I could live-stream her actions right to my own room.

I sat back in my chair and watched the images flickering on my laptop screen. It looked like Alexis had just stepped out of the shower to grab something from a drawer, because there was a white towel wrapped around her body, and her long dark hair was wet and flat. She disappeared out of the frame a moment later, presumably heading back to the bathroom. When she returned, the towel had been replaced with a pale pink robe.

She rubbed something into her damp hair. Then she yawned and picked up her phone before turning to face away from the camera. I squinted, trying to make out what was on her screen. It looked like an email or message folder, but it was hard to make out any detail beyond that.

A moment later, Alexis turned and headed over to the accent table to put the phone down. Then she changed her mind and picked it up again. There was a furtive, guilty expression on her face, and a rosy blush was rising up her chest, throat, and cheeks.

She was so close to the hidden camera now that I could make out the images on her phone screen when she turned to face the other way. When I realized what they were, a zap of shock jolted through me, and I let out a short, stunned bark of laughter.

She was looking at the fake sex tape.

She padded over to her door and stooped to check the lock. Then she slipped out of her silken robe and let it drop to the floor. My cock twitched at the sight. She had an incredible body. Just like one of those vintage pin-up posters, with all the curves and flawless skin.

I swallowed thickly as she moved to her bed and lay down, legs parting. One hand held the phone above her face, while the other traveled between her thighs to rub at her clit in slow circles.

Holy fuck. She was masturbating to a hardcore tape of ‘herself’ getting fucked. That made her a special kind of narcissist.

My upper lip curled in a sneer as I watched her play between her legs. I hated her with such an intensity that I could picture her death by my hand like it was a real memory playing in my mind, but at the same time, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her. I couldn’t stop my own hands from traveling down to my lap, either, and soon my zipper was undone and my stiff cock was out.

Alexis closed her eyes and threw her head back as one finger dipped inside her pretty pink pussy. A gasp escaped her lips, and the sound sent a frisson of electricity straight to my dick.

I took my length in my hand, giving it a long, slow stroke. Guilt streaked through me, but I told myself there was nothing wrong with jerking off to this. I was twenty and horny as fuck. I knew exactly how warm and wet Alexis’s pussy felt too, and the thought of that feeling along with her taste and scent was driving me fucking wild.

She was the forbidden fruit. Off-limits and tainted with sin. It was completely logical for me to want it. That was how fantasies worked.

As long as it remained a fantasy.

I made her suck my dick during the party a few weeks ago, and then I sneaked into her room and finger-fucked her until she came later that night, but that was as far as it went. I would never fuck her, no matter how tempting it was. Never.

She let out another gasp, followed by a moan. I grunted and pumped my hand around my cock harder and harder, hating myself for the effect she had on me. I was fucking hooked, eyes glued to the screen where her perfect body was trembling, arching, and writhing with ecstasy. Fuck, I wanted to be there so badly. I wanted my hands all over her curves, my tongue on her sweet skin, my cock in her tight pussy.

My body shook as I brought myself to an explosive orgasm only moments later, filling one hand with hot ropes of cum.

Right away, I felt sick with guilt for what I’d done. It was the same story every time I touched myself to the thought or sight of her. Her beauty was nothing but a sinful distraction, and I needed to stop falling for it and concentrate on the task at hand—getting her the fuck off this island.

If I was going to make that happen, I needed to up my game, and I needed to do it fast.

Before it was too late.

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