Prison Promise (Prison Saints Book 1)

by Demi Vice

  Jack gave me one last electric kiss before he gripped his cock and brought it back to my lips. I sucked on him harder this time, loving the way he made me feel, like I was precious and unbreakable. A way I’d never felt before. I gripped Jack’s smooth, full balls in my hand that were ready to be emptied and tugged on them as I sucked him like a lollipop made of the most addictive flavors in the world.

  “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Jack roared, and before I knew it, Jack had emptied his balls.

  Jack accidentally came…again. I would be lying if I said it didn’t make my ego burst. It might not have been the second he entered my body like last time, but it was still enough to make me smile.

  Jack came for seconds and when I looked up at him his head was thrown back, hands still on the back of my head, gripping my hair in his fist. His whole body flexed and tightened as he let out a sexy orgasmic grunt.

  I swallowed his cum fast, not letting the taste linger in my mouth, but when my taste buds registered his taste. Jack was sweet. He wasn't bitter or salty like the last time, but sweet and addictive, which reminded me of the pineapple juice in his fridge.

  I pulled on Jack’s balls, my cheeks were sunken in as I sucked him dry, taking in the last drop of his sweet cum. I absorbed his reaction. His small chuckle, his lustful amber eyes, and an endless smile as I licked his slit for the last of his cum which made him go wild.

  “Come here,” Jack gritted.

  He pulled me off the dildo, and I fell on top of his hard body. Jack was still burning for my sex. Jack spread my ass apart and bit my bottom lip before he thrust his cock inside of me. I gasped, my eyes fluttering from his perfect cock filling me up and pulling indescribable reactions from me which made Jack smile greedily. My body went numb and tight the more he fucked me and kissed me like I was the last woman on earth.

  Jack growled, “I’m not done with you yet. I’m still rock hard, and I plan to use you until I see your pussy dripping with my cum again, baby girl.”

  Jack sucked on my bottom lip and slapped my ass hard. I yelped, and he went into animal mode, as he gripped my ass in his large hands and fucked me like a toy. I pushed on his chest, loving the way he felt inside of me and fucked me like we had no tomorrow left.

  “Slap me again, Jack,” I commanded.

  Without hesitation Jack slapped my ass harder, giving it a nice hot sting. He slapped my ass again, and again and I clawed at his chest loving the pain mixed in with pleasure. I took control of my own pleasure and rode Jack’s cock while he continued to slap my ass. My hips went wild, and I felt him loosen his grip on my ass while his breaths became short and heavy like he was about to come again. Jack watched me ride him with parted lips and a look of awe on his face while his eyes ran laps around my body.

  He slapped my ass once more, this time harder than all the other times.

  “Yes, Jack!” I screamed, clawing at his chest.

  “Fuck, Ahrianna, you keep riding me like this I’m going to have to marry you.” Jack spoke deeply between his teeth, his chest rising and falling like his body had released a flood of adrenaline.

  Jack sat up and pulled me by the nape of the neck, giving me a hot steamy kiss. I never stopped fucking Jack through our kiss or even when it felt like my body was about to collapse. Jack dropped his hand behind himself for balance, but his other hand, once on my neck, fell down my body like I was made of glass until he pushed my tight asshole like a button.

  “Yes! Jack!” I whimpered, and I thought for a split second I was going to cry from joy.

  I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a secret anal slut. Because I was. Especially the days I go to work with a butt plug or the nights that I was so horny that I’d use my dildo to fuck my own ass. But I’d never taken a real cock there. I had never let a man go near that hole, and I’d never had a man like Jack who could give me everything I ever fantasized about.

  “I’m going to come, Jack!” I screamed.

  I wasn’t in control of my hips anymore as I used Jack like my boy toy. I scratched his back, and kissed, bit, and sucked on his neck all while Jack grunted louder and heavier. He slid his finger into my asshole, fingering it as I trembled with ecstasy.

  “OH MY GOD, JACK!” I screamed Jack’s name one more time before I sucked and bit his neck, clawing at his flesh from the earth shattering orgasm that had me shedding a tear.

  My whole body trembled on top of Jack’s as we panted for air. My pussy enveloped Jack’s cock which was still shooting his hot, sweet cum inside of me. I took a deep breath, Jack’s bare chest hammering against mine. My asshole puckered around his finger, enjoying his touch and dreading when he had to leave. I shook, quivered, and moaned until every drop of my orgasm left my body, and I went numb.

  After I was done. I didn’t move. I couldn't move. I was so exhausted I thought I could fall asleep sucking on Jack’s neck with his cock and finger still inside of me.

  “Fuck,” Jack’s voice, weak, as his arm trembled before it gave out and he fell back onto my bed taking me with him.

  He wrapped his arm around me, hugging my waist tightly and pressing me into his throbbing body. Both of our pulses had accelerated to dangerous speeds. They weren’t even heartbeats anymore, but vibrating hums.

  After a few minutes, I forced my eyes open, pushed myself up on my weak hands and watched Jack’s eyes shine with satisfaction. “Fuck, that was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.” Jack exhaled sharply, the vein in his neck still at dangerous speeds.

  Jack wiped away my orgasm tear and thumbed my cheek, running it along the side of my body before he rested it on my bony hip. He looked at my burn scar, his eyes losing that shine. Jack was probably wondering what had happened to me, but it was no big deal and not his problem.

  “It was okay,” I said sarcastically.

  Jack weakly laughed and rolled me around to get on top of me. He tasted my lips one more time before he pulled out and dropped onto the bed next to me.

  “Just admit it,” Jack moaned, pulling me in so I could become the small spoon to his big spoon. As much as I didn’t like spooning, snuggling or cuddling—whatever you want to call it—I let it pass this one time because it felt nice. And I was too exhausted to move.

  “Admit it, Ahrianna. I’m the best you’ve ever had.” Jack pulled me tighter into his body, his half-boner snug between my ass.

  “Fine, you’re the best, Jack,” I muttered, falling into a deep slumber with Jack kissing my neck and moving down my spine. “All hail Jack, the Pumpkin King,” I mumbled under my breath.

  Jack laughed hard, but before I knew it, I passed out with Jack kissing me all over.

  JACK

  Ahri was a quiet sleeper. Her breaths were short and faint, almost nonexistent, and she rarely moved. She twitched a finger here and there, and let out a few soft sighs, but other than that, she remained silent. Like her brother, when she was exhausted, she turned into a heavy sleeper.

  Nothing woke up Ahri.

  Not the sound of me washing her dildo or when I took a shower and blew dried my hair or when I dropped a kitchen pan before I reheat my food. I knew she heard me because the walls were paper thin and when you didn’t have a door, and Ahri’s door wouldn't close, sound traveled pretty clearly.

  I looked over at her broken door that I refuse to fix. I like the easy access. Coming and going as I pleased.

  Not only did sound not bother her, but neither did the smell of food when I ate in her room and watched her sleep. I’d spent the better half of the last two and a half hours with Ahri, even though I was already supposed to be at The Bayne. I got a call earlier telling me that I needed to meet with the owner, Emilio Bayne, to sign some papers, talk with him, etc. I’ll see the old geezer tomorrow, but I’ll have to spend the night at The Bayne.

  I knew I was going to be busy the next few days being an adult. I had no clue how long it will be, but I knew I had to be at The Bayne for the next few days. So, I wanted to spend as much time as I could with Ahri, even if she
wasn’t awake. Call me a creeper or a stalker; I don’t give a shit. I liked to watch this girl sleep. Ahri looked different. Happier, maybe? I think that’s the best adjective to use, aside from peaceful, since she looked like she had no worries in the world.

  Let’s not forget Ahri made a great model when she wasn’t hiding her face.

  I towered over Ahri, placing the covers over her breasts and looked at all the scars on her body. She had a long straight-like-an-arrow scar going down her back, a few cuts on her upper thigh which looked like self-harm. The sight of that made me ache, but at least there were no new ones. She had three cigarette burns I saw the first time we meant, and it reminded me of the seven burns on my right forearm. My scars were harder to see, hidden behind my Kraken tattoo.

  My eyes fell to her worst scar, the burn on her hip. I touched it lightly, Ahri didn’t move. I let my hand graze over the scar, feeling the texture, but taking in her soft skin. Ahri’s hip was bony, she barely had any fat on her, but I guess surviving on ramen, Red Bull, and a few candy bars does that to you. I went back to her scar, lightly brushing the back of my hand on it.

  Even with all her burns, cuts, and scars, it didn’t take away from how gorgeous she was.

  I cleared my throat and moved away when I felt that stupid fucking tingle invade my body. My eyes never went away from her scar though.

  I came to the conclusion that Fidget hadn’t tried to kill Ahri. There was a part of me that didn’t believe that because I knew Fidget. There was also a part of me that knew Ahri wouldn't be so defensive about Fidget’s shirt or kept the prison number in her phone if she was the victim. She obviously missed her brother but refused to contact him.

  The picture of the letter found a place in my mind again, and I picked out a line.

  I’m sorry for what I said, but you can't keep avoiding me.

  What did Fidget say? Was that why Ahri didn’t want to talk to him?

  I adjusted the sheets over Ahri’s body again, making sure they looked photo ready before I kneeled on the ground and looked through the viewfinder of my camera. I took my photo and went back to see if I needed to change the lighting or exposure, but I didn’t. The black and white picture of Ahri was perfect just like the rest of them.

  She was photogenic. It sucked that she always hid her face and the only time I could get it was when she was sleeping. I took multiple pictures as I walked around her bed and took a seat. I leaned on the wall, right next to Ahri’s feet and crossed my ankles. Rearranging the covers on Ahri again, I showed off more of her ass this time.

  Snap.

  There was something about Ahri I couldn’t describe. I don’t think it had a word. It was just…something. I took a picture of Ahri’s clothes rack. She didn’t match her clothes. She felt like the kind of girl who lived in black, from the tone of her voice and her lack of facial expressions. But in a way, she did match her clothes. Quirky, a little different, and stuck in the past.

  I guess you could say the same thing about me. I didn’t match the only color I lived and breathe. I was wild, outgoing, and had spent a good portion of my life with a smile on my face. But hell if I was going to live in anything else other than black. I looked too damn fine.

  Ahri let out a soft whimper and shook from the cold. I readjusted the blanket and covered her whole body in a thin white cloud.

  I skimmed through the images I’d taken of Ahri in the past few hours. Some nude, some covered, and some simply of Ahri’s face with her messy blonde hair in front of it. I’d rearranged a few locks of her hair in between photos to take a better picture of her face. I wanted to see the scar going from her cheek to her eyebrow, the two nose piercings, the stud and ring, and the cute small beauty mark on her chin.

  I took more photos of Ahri's face than her body. After about the fiftieth photo, I lost track of how many I’d taken. I’m sure there some were ‘bad’ images in the pile, but I’d go back and delete them later.

  Ahri’s phone buzzed loudly, and I jumped up, almost sprinting to the phone to pick it up. But it wasn’t a call. It was an alarm labeled ‘Diablo Work.’ Before I could turn it off, Ahri moaned and stretched on the bed. She turned around, her eyes still closed as she slapped the mattress, most likely looking for her phone and where she thought she’d left it.

  When she couldn't find it, she let out a muffled grunt and sat up, her perky small breasts exposed. Ahri rubbed her eyes, and when she saw me, she pulled the blanket over her body. She didn’t say anything. I think she was getting used to the idea that I was the worst next door neighbor alive, invading her space like I said I would. But to be honest, I liked being around her even if we weren't talking or, more importantly, fucking.

  I blame Fidget for that.

  I’d noticed a few things changed when I came out of prison. One, I felt claustrophobic as fuck if I wasn't in a big space, hence why I have no fucking door. It’s not like I have anything worth stealing—except my camera memory card—so there was no need for a door. Everything in my Wazowski apartment was disposable and replaceable. My real life was at The Bayne, and that’s where I’ll do some serious damage on my credit card. That’s where all the things that mattered to me belonged.

  Two, I liked being in the same room as someone. For the last three years, Fidget had followed me around, and I gave in to him, talking to him, listening to him, and having him around me at all times. Now it felt odd being alone. You could say that I missed Fidget, but there was no way in hell Ahri reminded me of him aside from looking vaguely similar.

  Ahri stepped off her bed and tripped over her covers as she tried to find her balance.

  Did I fuck you so hard that you’re having a hard time walking, baby girl? Yes, yes, I did. (even though you did most of the fucking this time.)

  The thought of me accidentally coming, again, was cringe-worthy. Was that going to be a normal thing now? No sex for seven years and I can come twice in a row, but only if I accidentally came the first time? If so, fuck it. I guess I’ll take it.

  Ahri hugged her covers around her body, before heading into the bathroom while giving me a funny look, her lip curled at one side and her eyes small as she squinted. The door closed behind her, and before I could take off her dirty bed sheets, Ahri caught my attention.

  “You remind me of my brother,” she muttered through the door, her voice a little raspier from her nap.

  Speak of the fucking devil.

  “What?” I chuckled.

  I stepped away from the bed and stood in front of the bathroom door, leaning on the doorframe to hear her better. Ahri turned on the shower, and I heard her step in, the water unevenly falling as she lathered her body.

  “Whaddya mean I remind you of your brother?” I asked after a few minutes listening to her clean the sex off her body.

  “My brother, Luke. He hated being alone,” Ahri said in a preppy tone.

  “Why did he hate being alone?”

  I knew why. It’s because Fidget got bored as fuck and needed human interaction at all times. He was the perfect definition of a people person, unlike Ahri who seemed to keep her distance and only allowed the people she liked in her life.

  “He got bored easily. When we were younger, he followed me around the house. He went in whichever room I went, including the bathroom. I always kicked him out, but he waited outside of the door trying to talk to me while I took a shower.” Ahri cleared her throat, gesturing at this exact situation. “Luke was just a big baby that loves affection and wanted to be talked to and pampered. I couldn’t tell you how many times he lied when he was younger about having a nightmare to come in my bed to sleep.” Ahri laughed, and it sounded genuine.

  Yeah, that seems about right.

  Fidget was a huge teddy bear. The first night he came to prison he tried to talk to me about everything and anything, keeping me up all night. He was obviously scared. When he asked me if he could sleep in my twin size bed that barely fit me I almost kicked him off his mattress and beat him senseless.

  F
idget wasn't gay or anything, but he loved the closeness, the human interaction. Maybe more than me. I just liked cuddling because it an easy way for me to knock out while I sucked on Ahri’s tit or it was an easy way to get ready for round two. So, I liked affection for selfish reasons.

  “Seems like a cute, but clingy kid.” I chuckled.

  Ahri let the water run a little longer before she turned it off. She opened the door with a light towel wrapped around her small body, her hair still dry, except for her wet ends that flipped up.

  “Says the guy who forced me to be the small spoon.” Ahri cocked an eyebrow.

  “What can I say, I like my cock snug between your ass cheeks. It gets me ready for another fuck.” I winked.

  “I have work,” Ahri growled.

  “And last time I checked I got you a day off, so why don’t you use it today?”

  “Because I’d rather take my birthday off, which I haven’t done in years. I wanna go to a club and let loose instead of spending the whole day inside having sex with you.”

  Ahri walked over to her clothes rack and moved each piece of clothing. I propped my shoulder on the wall, arms crossed, watching her lips pucker while she decided which colorfully odd outfit to wear.

  “Ouch, Ahrianna, right in the heart.” I chuckled and grabbed my chest. I liked it when she got bratty with me. It set me on fire. “So, where are we going for your birthday? I actually don’t mind clubs; it’s basically having sex on the dance floor which I could easily do if you’re grinding your ass on me wearing a tight dress and those black heels,” I moaned, biting my lip and looked down at her heels.

  Ahri clenched her towel and slowly pivoted on her heels to face me.

  “Aaaaand? Who said you're invited?” She smirked, showing off that dimple.

  “If you want your gift.” I cupped my groin. “I’m invited.”

  Ahri rolled her eyes. “September 12th.”

  “And how old is my baby girl turning?”

  “Twenty-five.” She went back to her clothes.