But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't look away from the scene outside.
A few more strokes and the alpha threw back and roared, every muscle in his body tensing as jets of come shot from his cock and sprayed across the ground.
Hope bit her lip, her fingers gripping the curtain. Warmth spread through her lower belly and thighs as his breathing finally slowed. She watched the tension ease from his body.
Hope was so transfixed that she forgot to step out of view when he wiped his hand on his pants and looked directly up toward the window.
"Next time you should come outside to watch," he said, his voice perfectly audible even through the glass. "You could join in."
Shit.
Hope froze. He couldn't really have known that she'd been watching, could he? She'd been so quiet. So still. He had to be guessing.
That's what Hope decided to believe, anyway, as she retreated back to the middle of the room and tried to forget what she'd just seen.
Leaving her with an entire day stretching out ahead of her and nothing to fill it with.
Hope knew she'd be unable to sleep if she climbed back into bed, and she really wasn't looking forward to more pacing and fretting. So she did the only thing she could think of and threw together some breakfast—a simple cornbread that was ready in no time at all.
She cut slices for both of them, drizzled them in honey, and started for the door. She only made it a few steps before she caught sight of her reflection in a chipped mirror that hung next to the sink.
She looked like hell. Her face was flushed, her hair matted, and her dress wrinkled and still stained with her blood.
Hope put down the plates and searched through the cupboards. She found a spare toothbrush and a comb that didn't look like it got much use. She washed her face in the sink.
It felt so good that she decided to try and wash the rest of her body as well. It was hard with just a small sink and a washcloth, but she managed to get most of the dried slick off her legs.
After that, the thought of slipping back into that horrible makeshift hospital gown repelled her. Instead, Hope picked out one of the alpha's shirts.
Good ol' Goldilocks, taking whatever she wants.
Hope did her best to shake off another round of shame. She was doing the best she could with what was on hand—just like she always had.
At least she didn't look as bad as she felt anymore.
Hope was searching for something to tie back her hair with when she froze, annoyed with herself. Since when did she care how she looked? She didn't primp for her job, and yet here she was behaving like Cinderella getting ready for the ball.
Apparently, the new Hope had a lot more vanity than the old one. She might as well add trying to look pretty for her captor to the list of new habits that included peeping from windows and having wet dreams.
Hope rolled her eyes, appalled with herself. For one thing, a man chained to a tree while she was free to come and go could not, by definition, be her captor. And for another, the alpha probably didn't care what she looked like as long as she had sex with him.
So that was settled, Hope thought as she picked up the plates. She wasn't going to waste any more time trying to look nice. It would be as ridiculous as hoping that he liked this meal better than the last.
Hope decided she was probably just starved for human contact after so many days away from civilization. Talking to someone—even with a man who made demands instead of conversation—made her feel less anxious. She shouldn't have to apologize for it—not even to herself.
She plastered on her best fake smile before opening the door, balancing both plates on her other arm. The alpha was doing that unsettling thing again—standing at the end of his chain and staring at the door.
Just like he was the big bad wolf waiting for her in the forest.
"Good morning," Hope said shakily, putting his plate down and pushing it toward him. "I made breakfast."
The alpha didn't reply. He ignored the food and watched her with an unsettling intensity, the way he had last night. His eyes glinted like jagged black diamonds, as though he was trying to see inside her to her very core.
"I think we might have gotten off on the wrong foot," Hope stammered, determined not to let him intimidate her. "My name is Hope Johansen."
The alpha said nothing.
"I, um, hope you slept well," she said when the silence had become unbearable.
That got her a sneer. "If you really wanted me to sleep well, you wouldn't have left me chained up out here while you drenched my bed with slick all night."
Hope blanched and took an involuntary step back. "How did you—"
"I can sniff out a mouse taking a shit half a mile away. Did you really think I wouldn't be able to smell sheets soaked with the thing I crave most?"
Hope ducked her head, unable to keep looking him in the eye. "I'm sorry. I'll wash them. I promise. Just tell me where."
"I don't give a damn about my sheets," he growled. "I want what was on them. Unchain me, and I'll take you down to the hot spring behind the house. You can soak whatever the fuck you want in that water while I let your slick wash all over me."
Hope pressed her legs together as warmth flowed from her. She shifted slightly, trying to focus on something, anything else—but the movement only increased the friction between her legs and made her gush even harder.
"I really wish you wouldn't say things like that," Hope sighed.
The alpha laughed. It wasn't a pleasant sound, sharp and steeped in mockery.
"I don't
