Page 37 of Auctioned to the Prisoners

“Yeah.” His hands span my waist, and his fingers almost reach right around me. He has the power to squeeze the life out of me if he wants. Shivers run up my spine as he draws his hands away despite the huge dick tenting his pants and the naked woman in front of him.

“Rock,” I say. “I’m a sure thing here.”

“You don’t want this.” He shakes his head, so sure. “How can you possibly want this? Fucking men in a prison basement for money.”

The back of my tongue tastes bitter at his judgment until he hangs his head, and I consider that his loathing might be turned inward. He wants something he shouldn’t want and he’s struggling to deal with it.

I take his hand and press it between my legs, knowing he’ll find me hot and wet. “Women like sex, too, Rock. And we can make our own decisions. I’m here for a reason, and you don’t need to feel bad about my motivations.”

His thick finger presses just inside me, and I shift to fuck it deeper. The pain drawing his features only worsens. “I don’t know what to do,” he says.

“Ask me if I want it.”

His eyes search mine, dark and tortured. “Do you want it?”

“Yes,” I breathe, pushing on his wrist for deeper penetration. He groans, and I almost come from the rumble of his reluctance. Maybe I need to ask him the same question.

“Do you want to fuck me, Rock?”

“Yes. Fuck yes.”

His lips remain parted, shocked that I might think otherwise. I reach for his pants, unbuttoning and shoving them down. His dick is so thick my fingers don’t reach around, but I pump him anyway, already fantasizing about being spread open by it because it’s easier to get lost in this connection between us than to focus on what’s happening outside of this room.

This is nothing like I thought it would be.

Rock should be greedy. He should be pushy. His urgency for release should obliterate any concern about my motivations. I’d understand all of that because these circumstances are fucked. But he’s worried about hurting me. He’s worried about taking from me. He’s worried about participating in something wrong.

He’s a better man than most of the guys I’ve met on the outside.

I step up on tiptoes and hook my hand around his neck. Our kiss is slow and searching, and he uses his tongue to test my receptiveness, sliding against mine in measured thrusts that mimic fucking. I remove the tie from his hair, letting it fall loose around his face, and pull back to take him in; he is so big, sexy, and powerful but conscious of his size and the damage he could do. I want him to release his binds and let go. I want to know what it’d be like to be ravished by a man who could snap me in half like a twig, so I turn and bend over the bed, sticking my assout. This way, he’ll be able to let go without constantly checking my expression, and I’ll experience all his raw power.

He snaps on a condom, and I watch over my shoulder as he readies himself for me. His chest rises and falls fast. He’s on the brink of losing control.

His hand relishes the plumpness of my ass, and his thumbs press into my thighs, spreading my pussy open. Cool air hits my wetness before his big dick finds its home.

The bite of pain that comes with the first thrust sends a shiver of fear through me. He really could hurt me if he lost control, but his thrusts are measured as he works to open me wide enough to take his full length. The stretch is blissful enough that I close my eyes to shut out the world and languish in the push and pull of his cock and his meaty fingers pressing into my flesh.

He’s a mountain of a man but a gentle giant. A gentle giant I want to feel let go.

14

ROCK

A MAN LIKE ME

She feels so good around my dick, like a hot, tight, wet fist. All the nights I finished myself under the sheets fall away like dust in the face of Lory’s perfection. I rut into her, watching my thick cock disappear inside he, fascinated at how easily she takes me and how deep I can thrust.

She groans, and it’s the sweetest sound, like a feather over my balls.

“That’s it, baby. That’s it.”

She asked me if I wanted her, like there was ever a chance that I’d say no. I’d give away the last shred of self-respect I possess to beg for her body and hold onto the way she makes me feel. When I’m with her, I’m ten feet tall, standing on the roof of the tallest building, surveying the world at my feet. She’s everything I wanted and more, spread out like a feast before me.

There are so many things I want to do to her body. So much pleasure I can give her, if she’ll let me. I bite my tongue, worried about pushing her too far, but she’s moving with me, shoving her hips back for deeper, harder penetration like she needs more. If I ask, she can say no, and that’d be okay. I just want to make it good for us both. I stare at her ass and the forbidden place just above where my dick is buried. I stroke her hair away from her back and run my finger down the ridge of her spine. When I reach the base, I drift lower. “Can I touch you here?” I ask.

“Yes,” she gasps. “Yes. Please.”

Fuck. I drift lower still, stroking her clenched asshole, exhaling as her pussy bears down in response. I lick my thumb and press harder as she whimpers.

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