“Lick every last drop, Thumper,” Rudy demanded, and Que buried his mouth against my ass, his tongue licking inside and out. Till nothing was left but a wet streak of saliva.
He moaned, and at first, I thought he was just really enjoying his treat. But then I felt myself beingthumpedforward, and I realized Rudy wasn’t just behind Que. He was inside him.
“Oh, holy fucking hell,” I groaned while Que whimpered.
“Right there, fuck! You sure know how to destroy someone’s ass?—”
Rabbit Man’s words were cut short when Rudy started fucking him harder, and I fell face-first into the snow with the force.
Rudy laughed, pausing his brutal pounding just long enough to set me back up on all fours. And then he was at it again.
My pussy was weeping. I was so turned on I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I was crying out to the devil andsinging up to the angels. Until Que gripped my hips and situated himself on top of my back, bracing his body weight with one foot on each side of me. Rudy hummed in approval, forcing Rabbit Man’s cock to slide into my drenched cunt with a slow precision.
“Stuff my stocking, boys!” I hollered over a shoulder, and Rudy grunted, “If she’s talking, you aren’t doing a good enough job to earn my cock back inside that tight little ass.”
Que shut me up real quick after that, pounding the fuck out of me. Guess that was why they called himThumper. He fucked so fast I couldn’t keep track of my hands scrambling beneath us.
“Ah! Yes, just like that!” Rudy was back inside Que now, while I got to enjoy the ride of my life, my limp body sliding back and forth on the snow.
My ears were ringing, my boys were singing, and balls were swinging in this winter wonderland.
CHAPTER 21
QUE
“You can put 'er down, you know.” I looked over to where Nickie was bouncing off Rudy’s shoulder each time he took a step in the knee-high snow.
He didn’t respond, just set her onto her feet. She sprinted to the left. He took three more large steps, scooped her up around her waist, and slung her back over a shoulder again. Then he turned to me and cocked an eyebrow.
“Right, point made. Ya don’t have to be smug about it,” I grumbled.
“You’re one to talk,” he threw back at me, and now I was the one grinning. Not because the fucker was right but because of what he was being right about.
Five years together plus the other four before that meant I didn’t need him to say a word for me to know what the big guy was thinking. His little mannerisms said it all. The tightening of his jaw muscle, the twitching of hislips, the crinkling of the lines around his eyes he’d swear he didn’t have.
Don’t let 'em fool ya. Broody Rudy was just as vain as I was. He was just better at hiding it from everyone who wasn’t me.
It was why I’d waited and watched, never pushing him for more until the time was right. Was I flirty? Did I hint at it? 'Course. Would have been weird if I hadn’t. But I never pushed the stubborn bastard. Just his buttons. In every other sense, I’d been patient. Wined and dined him—toilet wine and rations I’d stolen outta the prison commissary. But beggars couldn’t be choosers.
Point was, our connection went deeper than the physical and the physical went small-intestinedeep. Still, the first time he let me kiss him on the mouth was deeper than that…
“Weber, Laurent, kitchen duty. Now!” Officer O’Reilly barked out from the other side of the bars.
I looked to Rudy, who looked back over at me. His way of telling me to shut my trap. I smirked. My way of telling him there wasn’t a chance in hell of that happening.
I stepped up to the bars and slipped my arms through the little slot in the door, waiting to be cuffed. “Thought Kelly and Mitchel were on kitchen duty this week?” I asked, brushing O’Reilly’s wrist with my thumb as he dropped my bracelets in place and cinched 'em extra tight. “You wouldn’t be playing favorites, now would ya, officer?”
“That mouth is gonna get you in trouble one of these days, inmate,” he grunted under his breath.
“Good thing it gets me outta trouble too.” I winked at him, my eyes flicking down to the stiffy I could make out in O’Reilly’s uniform pants.
“Knock it off, Laurent,”he hissed.
“Got it, boss.” I stepped back and offered him a mock salute that looked about as weird as it felt with my hands joined at the wrists.
Rudy stepped up to the door next, the process much quicker for someone whose favorite pastime wasn’t talking back.
A few minutes later, we were walking out of B-Block, past several more security doors, and deposited into the kitchen area. Then O’Reilly released our wrists and slammed the door shut.
