“I’ve wanted this so bad, angel. You have no fucking idea. I’m already almost coming.” He grits his teeth and embeds the rest of his length in my channel. I cry out as he begins to rut faster and faster, pumping his hips with desire, running his hands over every inch of my body. “This pussy fits me like a glove. It was made forme, wasn’t it?”
I nod feverishly, tingling all over as heat radiates out from my center. Knowing I’m pleasuring him has me on fire.
He reaches back and reveals his phone, unlocks it, and shows me a livestream of countless cameras in the prison, showing men in their cells, men in the yard, men in the cafeteria.
“Made forme,” he repeats. “Notthem.”
God, I don’t know what to do with myself. He’s talking so dirty to me, and I barely know how to take him.
But seeing all those men on the screen, knowing they can’t see me, and knowing what they would do to me if they had the chance, awakens a side of me I never knew existed.
“Not them,” I mewl as my private muscles clamp down and I erupt, screaming as more slick gushes from my hole, making a wet, slapping sensation with every thrust he pounds into me.
His eyes widen, like he wasn’t expecting me to go off so soon. I feel his hardness flex inside me, stretching me as I grip him tightly like a fist.
I stare up at the screen—all those men who want me. But they can’t have me.
“Only you can have me,” I whisper.
“Alice, I’m going to come inside you. I have to.”
I nod. “Do it. I want to feel it, sir.”
“You’re not on birth control, are you?”
I shake my head, the fire raging in my chest as his girth grows and grows until I’m sure he’s going to burst.
“No. Why would I be? You’re the first to ever have me, Killian.”
Shooting like a star, I clench down tighter around him. His head snaps back, and his fingers snatch a fistful of my hair. He seems to double in size as he goes off. And that’s when I feel it.
A powerful jet of hot, sticky wetness that sprays into me, coating my walls, driving in like it’s going for my womb.
“I’m gonna get you pregnant, angel,” he whispers, his face twisted tight in rapture as he goes balls-deep in me.
I clamp my thighs around him, pulling him closer.
“Do it,” I tell him as he erupts inside me. “Do it!”
I’ve never felt more elated, more thrilled with anything I’ve ever done. Pleasing this man is the height of my life. Knowing how badly he’s wanted me and seeing that want on his face now—feeling it expressed between my thighs—it’s almost too much to handle.
I’m bawling. Not from despair but from pleasure. Delight.
He used to be pulling me in two directions, but now I only feel one.
The one that leads straight to him. To something more.
He thrusts once more, so firm and so deep, as if locking us together for eternity, then envelops my lips with his in the most ferocious kiss imaginable.
This time, I know how to kiss him back—or at least I try.
I’ll learn. I’ll get better. I’ll be his everything and please him day after day.
And he’ll protect me. He’ll make things right.
I open my mouth to thank him, but there’s a knock on the door.
“Sir,” a voice barks from outside. “There’s something here that requires your attention.”
