It flips something inside me, something dirty and debased. I don’t care where we are, what he’s done, or what I’ll look like when I leave.
I keep sucking until I’ve stolen every drop from him, then look up to meet his eyes. “More.”
Drawing him back in, I play with his balls and lick his cock until he’s rock hard again, and when he fists his hand in my hair and tugs, I know that was just the appetizer. “Been too long. Give me that pussy.”
My legs feel like jelly as I stand up, but Killian doesn’t give me a moment to breathe. He spins me around, bending me over until I’m forced to brace myself against the wall, and swings his cuffed hands in front of my face.
The chill I get as the short, freezing cold chain connecting his cuffs bites my throat makes my thighs slip together. “Pull your dress up or I’ll rip it off you,” he growls, telling me he wants to play.
Oh, I’ll play.
“No.” Yet even as the word leaves my lips, I flip the fabric up to expose my ass. “Killian, not here. You’ve already made such a mess of me.”
“And what a beautiful mess you make,” he whispers into my ear. “Now get my cock inside that cunt before I lose my mind.”
Without waiting I feel him rut between my cheeks, the head of his cock searching for me desperately. It takes two tries to give us both what we need because I’m so fucking wet, but the moment the head of his cock is inside me, we groan in unison, relief coursing through our bodies like more than just our minds were craving this. “So tight. Have any of your toys had you?”
He sinks in further, making it hard to speak.
“N-No,” I admit. “I don’t want anything or anyone but you.”
“Fuck, I love you.” Kill slams all the way inside, the handcuffs digging into my throat as he pulls me closer, and my eyes flutter closed. “You’re all I need.”
I stop myself from asking him if he’s made any ‘friends’ in prison. I don’t want to know, not right now. And I trust him, anyway. I do.
But the answer becomes clear anyway as he fucks me like he hates me, like a starved man afraid he’ll never see another woman again.
Killian is mine, all mine.
“Do you know how hard I wake up every morning?” He slows to a grind, then pulls back to slam in again. “Hard for you and only you. You’re all I see. All I crave, and you own my mind, body and soul.”
The growl in his voice and the words he’s saying have me so close it’s a struggle to stand up, but I’m speared on that thick cock and trapped behind those cuffs. He has me right where he wants me, just like he has since the day we met.
“Have you come for me, Killian? Thinking about me, wishing your hand was my pussy, my throat, my ass?”
“No,” he admits breathlessly. “I tried once and couldn’t get there without you. I don’t want to come unless it’s with you. Everything good in my life is tied to you and I don’t want it any other way. You own me just as much as I own you.“
For a moment, he stops, leaving us strung out on the edge as those words hang between us. We were happy where we were, holed up at the edge of the world. And while the more rational part of me knows he’s guilty, no part of me believes he deserves this. The justice system failed, not Killian. Yet here we are, bribing and scheming our way toward stolen moments in some dusty, forgotten hallway, deep in the bowels of a federal prison.
He didn’t hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. And if they don’t find a jury who understands that, I may have to hurt everyone.
“Don’t come inside me,” I whisper, reaching down to rub my clit as the chain tightens around my neck like a noose.
“What?” His cock throbs in protest, making him immediately fuck me harder than he was before. “Your cunt is begging for my cum.”
“S-Sorry,” I grunt, bracing myself as his thrusts become almost violent. “What I should’ve said is don’tjustcome inside me. Cover me, baby. Give me something to take home.”
The next orgasm that hits me has a scream dying in my throat, the chains tightening to the point I can’t inhale my next breath.
Feeling him fall apart behind me is everything. He moans my name as he begins to come, thrusting his way deeper through the throes of his orgasm, and then he releases me and pulls out.
But he’s far from done.
I feel him stroke himself to completion, feel each rope of cum as it paints my ass, thighs and wrecked pussy, shooting up my back and dripping down.
I think he’s done until I feel the chain slap against my thigh and two thick fingers push cum into my ass.
“Breathe, love. I’m not done marking what’s mine.”