Page 34 of Auctioned to the Prisoners

I grab my hair and step back, slipping from inside her. I close my eyes against what I’ve done.

“Hyde.” Lory’s hands grip my face, and my cheeks are wet, but I don’t know why. “Hyde.”

I don’t want her to call me that, but she doesn’t know better. In this fucking underworld, it’s all anyone knows me as. She wraps her arms around my waist, and I hold onto my hair because if I let go, my hands will hurt her again. She holds me tightly, pressing her face into my neck, breathing softly against my skin. “It’s okay,” she whispers. “It’s okay. You don’t have to take what I’m willing to give.”

My throat burns because no one has touched me so softly or held me with so much tenderness before. Even when I was a kid, any kindness came with a backhand of cruelty.

“Let me give it to you.” She takes my hand in hers, slowly prizing my fingers away. I open my eyes, finding them swimming and blurry. Am I fucking crying? Jesus. I’m losing it.

When she slides my hand up her ribs and over her breast, I know I’m losing it. She’s letting me touch her after what I did. I don’t deserve this. She should slap me across the face, punch me, kick me. She should call me all the bad names under the sun because I’d deserve them. All of them.

I could recite them to her because they’re etched into my brain.

Piece of shit, fucking brat, dirty little punk, crybaby, sissy.

I fight the voices, but they slice into me anyway.

She eases her leggings down and encourages me to follow her to the bed. “We need a condom,” she says matter-of-factly like this is just work to her. I guess it is because she’s getting paid, working off the warden’s debt by taking my cock. Doesn’t seem fair to her.

“Kinkaid, I need a condom,” I yell, knowing full well it’ll piss him off but also that he’ll be grateful for the excuse to check on Lory. She’s on her back with her legs spread, staring up at me as I rub the back of my head.

Behind me, the door opens, and Kinkaid’s feet thump against the floor.

He hands me the packet, looking down at Lory, who doesn’t cover herself. I guess he’s seen it all already.

“You okay?” he asks her.

“I’m good.” She looks at me when she speaks, and her reassurance settles in my bones.

“We’re just outside.” Kinkaid shoots me a warning look, but he leaves, closing the door behind him.

With fumbling hands, I sheath my dick, forgetting the tight grip of the condom and the way it deadens the sensation of my own hand.

“You’re good, huh?”

I brush Lory’s clit with the pad of my index finger, fascinated as her pussy flutters from such a simple touch. Another day, when I’m less jacked up for this, I’m going to edge the fuck out of her, make her whimper and beg for release. I reckon she could take it. I reckon she’d like it, too.

“Yeah,” she replies as I get close enough to press my dick just an inch inside. She arches her back and closes her eyes, and when I push deeper, she makes a low groan that sounds a lot like pleasure. Is she really enjoying this or just playing along to keep me sweet?

I don’t like being lied to. I don’t like being made to feel like an idiot.

I shove in deeper, and her eyes meet mine. They’re not fearful but heavy-lidded. She’s wet and panting as I thrust into her. She’s not faking; this is real.

“Fuck, Sunshine,” I grind out as I move in long slick deep strokes that make me feel like a god. I take her legs and rest them over my shoulders, folding her for deeper penetration. My mouth crashes into hers, and she takes my tongue, licking into my mouth in a way that draws my balls tight. Her hands grip my hair, angling my head, hungry for the ferocity I can’t contain.

Does she realize that being inside her is unraveling me? Can she sense my loss of control?

I close my eyes, trying to maintain a rhythm, holding off until her orgasm pulses around me. Then I look. She’s beautiful when she comes, like an angel seeing heaven for the first time.

She’s everything that was never meant for me.

My hands are bloody. My body is dirty. I’m a broken pot, glued back together, out of place, with pieces missing.

The rising tide of my release is swift. It’s a punch to the gut, curling my body inwards. My soul is ragged, my mind shattered, and I hold on to Lory like a life raft.

“It’s okay,” she soothes. “It’s okay.”

Her hands on me are like water, but nothing can wash away my scars and my sins, no matter how much I wish they could.

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