Page 52 of Bratva Butcher

The woman moaned again, long and low.

Would Autumn moan for me like that?

No!

I closed my eyes, taking a big, deep breath in through my nose, trying to calm myself. It didn’t help. The air stunk of sex, of a good, hard fucking. I quickly realised that it wasn’t those sounds that were turning me on. It was staring into Autumn’s eyes while that moaning filled my ears. It was imagininghermakingthosesounds becauseofme.

My eyes snapped open, burning with fire. Autumn’s hooded gaze was roving freely over my body, trailing across my chest. Lower. Lower.

It might have been dark, but I knew she could see how heavily I was breathing. I just hoped she couldn’t see how rock fucking hard I was.

More sounds of pleasure echoed around me, but this time, they were closer. A lot closer. It was coming from the cell right next to mine.

I didn’t need to look over my shoulder to know Gregory or Rebecca, possibly both, were now “taking care of themselves”. Either individually or together. In fact, it became abundantly clear as the chorus of moaning got louder and louder that it was coming from all directions. Several of the other prisoners were joining in.

I was smack dab in the middle of some kind of voyeurism orgy.

Based on Autumn’s wide-eyed expression as she surveyed the other prisoners, she knew it, too.

When her gaze came back to me, she smirked and shrugged lazily. “Why the fuck not?”

I stiffened.She’s not going to do what I think she’s going to do, is she?

The tips of her fingers ran down the column of her throat slowly, sensually, moving through the valley of her breasts and heading right for the waistband of her shorts.

She is. Oh, fuck, she is.

My pulse skyrocketed, my BP well and truly entering the danger zone.

I knew the exact moment she touched herself because she let loose the softest, sweetest fucking sound I’d ever heard. My hand itched to grasp my cock. To stroke it while she watched me and I watched her. Lustburntin my veins, threatening to boil over like a volatile volcano.

“Oh, Mac. Mac! Yes!” the woman moaned over and over and over again.

Autumn’s hips rolled, her chest rising and falling fast as she chased her own pleasure. She wasn’t even the least bit shy about it, staring me dead in the fucking eyes, her free hand reaching up to squeeze her breast.

“You can join me or watch. It’s up to you,” she panted heavily, her words falling on a breathy moan.

I clenched my hands into tight fists to restrain myself from pouncing on her right there and then. There was a part of me that wasdyingto join her. Dying to replace her fingers with my own. With my tongue.

I hadn’t felt the touch of a woman like that insolong, and now that it was right there in front of me, I fuckingcravedit like an addict in desperate need of their next fix.

Then there was another part of me—a part that wasscreamingin my head that it was a betrayal. Guilt cut through the lust like the sharp edge of a blade slicing through butter.

This is wrong.

I can’t do this.

The desire was still there, beating like a drum beneath my skin. It was too strong to disappear into thin air, but some clarity had managed to squirm its way back into my mind.

It took everything I had, every ounce of strength and willpower I possessed to move. I kept my movements slow and precise, fearful that my body would just take over and pounce on her if I didn’t use all of my concentration, all of my focus to turn over.

I glimpsed the small flash of surprise in Autumn’s eyes right before I laid on my side, facing away from her.

Chapter Eighteen

Autumn DeValos

“You can join meor watch. It’s up to you.”

---