Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 95(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 95(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
“Five-oh-seven-five, would you like to explain why your pussy is so wet?”
I’m gonna die.
Panic floods through me. My hips shift on the bed, and I feel it—the moisture now gushing from my intimate line, dripping down my butt onto the sheets beneath.
That driving want I’ve been trying to ignore—it’s there. And it’s obvious for him to see.
I try to twist away in shame, but his hands gasp me like clamps, holding me open. “You understand this is a prison? You are a criminal.”
All I can do is nod and squelch out a tiny whimper. “Yes.”
Killian shakes his head, then lowers his eyes and drags a finger across my most sensitive place.
I arch off the sheets, and the cheap bed rattles beneath me as I’m flooded with a sweeping heat. My toes and fingers tingle, and I clench my hands into fists.
He raises his finger to my eyes—slick, gleaming, dripping with my own juices—and for the first time, he almost smiles.
“No, I don’t think you understand.” His voice drops a register, coming out like gravel. “Fuck…”
What is happening?
Is his disapproval making me ache?
I’ve never been drunk, but I’d bet what I’m feeling is close. The heavy longing between my thighs continues to grow as he looms over me, his fingers pressing into my soft skin.
His touch is somehow soft and strong at the same time.
My vision narrows. My flush grows. My heart is pounding with such violent intensity that I’m sure something in me is about to give way.
The last thing I see before I faint is his face, chiseled and gorgeous, staring down at me, eyes narrow and intent. “You’re mine now, Alice. And this is only the beginning.”
3
KILLIAN
She’s an angel.
An angel turning me into a sinner.
Sitting at my desk, I watch Alice on the monitor. She’s in holding at the moment, where the guards are explaining the rules of Last Rites to her. Rules she must follow.
I know she’s innocent. The way her scared little eyes looked back at me when I ran my finger up her soaked slit—no one has touched her there before.
After she fainted, I sucked my finger, tasting the juices like my own personal honey. I haven’t washed my hand either. Her scent is too impeccable and fresh to rinse away.
I need more. So much more.
She’s going to ruin me. Destroy my position at the prison.
I thought this job would be perfect, but I can feel the cracks starting to form. And quickly.
I have an abnormally high testosterone level. Like a breeding bull. One that made me a flawless Marine when I was younger but also makes it impossible for me to be around women.
So I found a solution; I became a guard at an all-male prison. Over the years, I worked my way up and finally became warden.
I thought I was good. But then she showed up.
It doesn’t even make sense. A beauty like her being sent to an all-male prison? Her case was flimsy as hell too. Accused by her boss without evidence, represented by a state attorney who barely even showed up, and then convicted and sent to Last Rites?
Poor little thing.
Just watching her cling to the sheets of her cot makes me furious. How could she let herself end up here? My cock is as hard as a plank of freshly cut wood, and once the male inmates get their eyes on her, I won’t be the only one.
Even the guards with her now are breathing heavily like they’re ready to breed—rubbing their bulges, dragging their eyes up every one of her curves. The jumpsuit isn’t enough to hide them. She was built to drive men into a frenzy.
My teeth clench, grinding enamel.
I should place her in solitary. Releasing her to the hounds in gen-pop will create a warzone. But that would be showing preferential treatment. She may be a woman, but she’s not another inmate. Another criminal. And I must treat her as such.
I already pushed the limits with her physical exam. She didn’t ask for any of it, but I couldn’t help myself. Even now, the simple sight of her has me taking deep, gasping breaths of oxygen. Fighting the urge to abuse my authority and take her over and over and over again.
“Inmates, line up!” Buck’s voice, our disciplinary officer, rings out over the loudspeaker. “Cell inspection will begin in five minutes!”
I watch the monitors as Alice, shaking and confused, is led from holding and out into the hall of the East Wing where the prisoners are beginning to line up. Their fevered eyes watch her like starving men being brought to a feast.
Five-oh-two-five reaches out and pinches her thigh. Five-oh-two-six cops a feel of her ass, forcing my fists to clench into hammers. The guards do their job and pull her away, then place her in front of her cell.