by Dee Garcia
Benni drops her head to my shoulder, eyes falling shut as I continue to work her cunt. “I was playing with myself,” she admits, throwing an arm back around my neck, fingers threading into my hair. “Time is limited. I wanted to be ready for you.”
The thought of Benni playing with herself makes me harder—painfully so. My dick’s straining against the zipper, begging to be freed from its confines and buried inside her where it belongs. “Were you thinking about me while you did it?” My finger crooks against that plush, ridged spot, arching her into me all the more.
“Hell, yes, I was.”
So I crook it again, faster, relishing the echo of her wetness combined with the soft moans she’s trying to suppress. “Tell me what you did,” I demand, needing to know what the hell was running through her mind as we prepared to make our plan a reality.
“Exactly what you’re doing right now.”
“And did it feel good?”
“Yeah, but not as good as…” she trails off, her walls fluttering around my finger.
She’s so fucking wet and creamy, I can feel it dripping down my knuckle. “Not as good as what?” I grit.
“Not as good as you.”
Those five little words are like music to my ears, prompting me to withdraw and lift my drenched finger up to my mouth. Benni watches as my lips seal around it, tongue lapping up every bit of her juices.
“Mmm,” I groan, eyes almost rolling to the back of my head as her taste blasts over my taste buds. “You’re even sweeter than I let myself imagine.”
Another mewl meets my ears, another roll of her ass assaulting my dick. “Andrés, please.” Her dark, heavy-lidded stare flicks to the door. “We’re running out of time.”
She’s lucky our predicament is what it is; otherwise, I’d be throwing her on the nearest flat surface and burying my face between her legs until she can’t form a coherent sentence.
I wanted all of her, but she’s right. Despite the fact Hadley was nodding off on post, we don’t have the time we need for me to indulge.
With the use of one hand, I quickly undo my belt, then the button and the zipper, pulling myself free from my boxers. “Please, what, baby?” I know what, but I want to hear her say it, stroking myself vigorously as our eyes lock.
Her grip around my neck eases, her hand falling between us to lock around my fist. We both stroke it for a beat or two before she squeezes me, hard, lips curling in that devilish smirk. “Fuck me, Andrés, that’s what.”
I don’t know if it’s the demand in her tone, the fact that we’re hiding in a closet and limited on time when I want to devour her whole, or just simply that it feels like I’ve been waiting years for this moment to go down, but I snap.
Like fully snap.
I can barely subdue the growl that wants to break free as I push her forward and reclaim full control of my cock, running the tip along her slicked pussy lips up to her tight little asshole. That visual is going straight to the spank bank…
“I’m not even gonna lie to you,” I repeat the same motion, “I didn’t bring a rubber. Is that reckless? Yes. Selfish? Absolutely. I wanna feel you, though, wanna feel every inch of your pussy clamping around my dick as you come with my name on your lips.”
Benni peeks over her shoulder, her stare smoldering yet somewhat uneasy all the same time. What she goes on to ask is the last thing I expected to hear. “Why would you ever wanna fuck me raw? I’m dirty…a dirty prisoner who you’re having to fuck in a musty, old as hell closet, and—”
Red. I see pure, flaming red.
My hand flies into her hair the next second. I yank her back so hard and so fast my dick slides inside her arched form with ease, our groans resounding in tandem. Takes everything in me, every spec of self-control I possess not to move as I turn her head toward me, looking her dead in the eye. “You’re not dirty, and if I hear you say it again, so help me, God, Benni…”
That uncertainty I’d seen seconds prior? It melts away in seconds, leaving nothing but determination in its wake.
“I am dirty, though. As fuck,” she tosses back, emphasizing that final K. “So fucking dirty you wouldn’t even begin to imagine—”
It’s on.
I crash our lips together, silencing her for the second time. I’m done talking. Can’t hold back anymore. Need to fuck her. She wants me to be rough? I’ll give her rough—a blend of frustration and arousal all in one shot. “You know that’s not what I meant,” I mumble against her lips, my hips flexing in and out in shallow, quick thrusts.
“I know,” she mumbles back, licking into my mouth, “but that doesn’t mean it isn’t true. You have no idea how dirty I can be.”
Sure about that?
Releasing my grip on her hair, I push her forward against the sink and deepen my strokes, filling her to the hilt every time I push back in. “You would’ve let me eat”—thrust—“your pussy”—thrust— “if that was the case.”
“Get me a razor, and you can eat it all you—Oh, God…” she drones, head falling between her shoulders.
“Feels good, baby?” Rhetorical for both of us, obviously, because the way her cunt is swallowing me whole right now… Fuck. She feels amazing—warm, wet, tight as hell. There’s no way I’m gonna last long.
Not when she’s pushing back against me and meeting me tit for tat the way she is. “So good… too fucking good. Don’t stop.”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” I grate, looping my arm beneath one of her legs. The new angle has me out of my right mind, but it gives me the perfect leverage to give her exactly what she wants.
I’m plowing into her with everything I’ve got, beads of sweat accumulating along my brow as the sounds of our skin slapping and the continuous clink of my belt rent the air. If someone walks by that door, we’re definitely getting caught, and at this point in time, as long she gets to come, I don’t give a flying fuck.
“I’m close,” she warns, gripping the edge of the sink for dear life.
Shit, I am too, my balls tightening with one hell of an impending orgasm, those familiar tingles at the base of spine sparking. It’s gonna rip me to shreds; I can feel it. How I’m supposed to go back to the box and actually work, as if nothing ever happened, is going to be harder than simply trying to ignore Benni in my first days here.
“Touch yourself. Play with that pretty little clit for me,” I demand, grunting as I dig into her deeper. Impossible, I know, ‘cause I’m already as deep as hell, but here we are. Feels like I can’t get deep enough.
Better watch yourself before she ends up pregnant, that little voice in my head whispers, threatening to ruin the moment.
I’m well aware of what can happen, but I push it to the back of my mind, for now, focusing on her and only her, on how she’s doing exactly what I asked and helping me bring her over the edge.
“I’m right there, right there.” Another warning, another reason to push myself to limit, and after a few more strokes, she falls apart, biting on the hem of her shirt to stifle the sounds of her pleasure.
I don’t stop, though, keeping my pace steady to avoid busting inside her as she rides out the wave of her orgasm.
“Are you close?” she pants, and while she can’t see me, I manage a strained nod.
“I’m right there, bebé. Right fucking there.”
What happens next is not what I’d been anticipating—at all. Benni reaches back and pushes me back a few feet, a move that leaves my dick screaming in agony from sudden abandonment...until I see her scrambling onto her knees.
“What are you—”
She opens her mouth, tongue lashing out over her bottom lip with that sexy as sin look in her brown eyes, silently urging me to come in her mouth.
Goner. I’m a goner. I’ve imagined this in my head more times than I care to admit, and now, here it is, painted out before me, and it’s a million times better than what my imagination had sketched out.
“Go on, Andrés,” she coos, grabbing hold of my dick. “Come for me
.”
I think—emphasis on the think—her lips aren’t even wrapped around me for a full minute, tongue swirling along the bottom of my shaft before I’m doing just that. My balls tighten one last time as I thread my fingers into the top of her hair, and the next thing I know, I’m falling over the edge, spurting jet after jet of my hot cum down her throat. She doesn’t even flinch, still sucking the goddamn life right out of me, taking me as deep as she can go. It’s fucking beautiful to watch, and it’s at that moment that I finally realize I can’t let her go.
I need her to be mine when she walks free, and I’ll do whatever it takes.
Whatever it fucking takes.
♫ Way down We Go - KALEO
I had forgotten it was possible to be this sore after sex. My back, my legs, my pussy—everything is sore, deliciously sore. Any tiny little movement makes me writhe in pain, and yet, I’m more relaxed than I have been in a long time.
Coming like a freight train will do that to a girl.
I couldn’t care less about anything going on around me. I’m too busy scarfing down my shitty lunch in a daze of flashbacks to notice.
“I’m right there, right there.” Another warning, and after a few more strokes, I’m falling apart, biting on the hem of my shirt to stifle the moans trying to break free.
But he doesn’t stop, keeping a pace steady that forces me to ride out the wave of my orgasm until I’m a weak mess.
What about him, though? He’s not wearing a condom. Where the fuck is he going to come?
“Are you close?” I pant, forming a plan in my head, and as soon as he answers with, “I’m right there, bebé. Right fucking there,” I’m putting it into action.
Reaching back, I push him back a few feet and quickly scramble onto my knees ‘cause timing is everything.
“What are you—” He seems confused...until I open my mouth, tongue lashing out over my bottom lip, silently urging him to come in my mouth.
The way his eyes widen… It’s the most adorably sexy thing I’ve seen in forever.
“Go on, Andrés,” I coo, grabbing hold of his dick. “Come for me.”
“There you are!” Lena’s whisper-hiss drops my ass back into the present as she all but slams her lunch tray onto the table and plants her ass in front of me. “What the hell happened to you? I woke up, and you were nowhere to be found.”
I didn’t make it back from medical until most of the girls had already left for work. Of course, there wasn’t anything wrong with me, but Doctor Gomez decided it was best to run some tests and keep an eye on me for a few hours. In the end, he chalked it up to possible food poisoning, which makes zero sense to me when no one else is ill. I wasn’t going to argue, obviously, and took his note without comment, knowing Andrés and I were in the clear.
Misson-fucking-accomplished.
Literally.
Lena had absolutely no clue what we were up to, though, so I’m not surprised to see the mass amount of concern written all over her pretty face. “I had to go down to medical. Wasn’t feeling too hot last night.”
Her head rears back, brown eyes widening like saucers. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
Because I was faking illness to go get fucked, and I needed my excuse to be believable all around.
I love her dearly, I do, and I trust her with everything that I am, but I’m not so sure that I want to tell her what really went down. She’s still cycling through this weird-ass mood, and there are more important things I need to tell her anyway—like how I finally got my early release, but there’s a chance I could lose it with Ryker now being investigated. Adding in the fact that I finally kissed and fucked Andrés might be too much for her to handle all at once.
She’s gonna be mad enough as it is that I didn’t tell her about my early release sooner. Why throw a nail in the coffin too?
“Wake you up for what? I was nauseous, my head was throbbing. There wasn’t anything you could’ve done to help me that I hadn’t already tried before I called for the guards, and they took me down to medical,” I lie, hoping I sound more legit than I feel.
Selena’s expression softens a bit, hand reaching out for mine. “You know I would’ve stayed up with you even if I couldn’t help,” she vows, making me feel like absolute shit in two point five seconds.
Don’t do it. Don’t tell her.
It’s right there on the tip of my tongue, waiting to be unleashed so we can gush together, but I force myself to swallow down the words and squeeze her hand instead. “I know, but I didn’t want to wake you. You were sleeping so peacefully and—”
“Please tell me it was Bala who took you down to see Gomez,” she interjects, waggling her eyebrows like the Lena I love.
It makes me wonder what’s going on with her that she hasn’t told me. She’s been so hot and cold...
“He did, yeah.” That’s the one and only bone I’m throwing, but like anyone fishing for information, you give them an inch, and they take the whole mile.
“Aaand? What happened?”
“Nothing.” I shrug noncommittally. “He walked me down, and that was it. I think the poor dude was half asleep. You know he’s not usually third shift.” Shoveling a spork-full of bland mashed potatoes in my mouth, I watch Lena’s brow quip curiously.
“So you mean to tell me that you two were wandering the dark-as-fuck hallways, and he didn’t try anything after all of your nightly conversations?”
“Yup.”
She looks astonished like genuinely astonished. “Wow.”
I shrug again, thankful she doesn’t seem suspicious. “I mean, I was sick, Lena. I doubt he wants to catch whatever germs I have.”
“Yeah, but…. I don’t know. I guess I just figured he’d make a move. It’s not like you guys didn’t already cross the line.” Leaning forward, she flicks her gaze around us to ensure no one’s listening in before she whispers, “He snuck you in a phone, for fuck’s sake.”
“Shhh!” My eyes widen. “Shut the fuck up. Shit’s getting hot as fuck in here.”
Lena’s face contorts, lips curling and all. Clearly, she’s out of the loop. “What are you talking about?”
My gaze flicks to Franca’s table. Only her twin freaks surround her. Koko’s over at the addict table, shooting up more red flags in the depths of my mind. They’ve been sitting together since Quinn sent her ass to medical, and now, suddenly, they’re not.
Fuck.
“Ryker got caught, and now he’s under investigation,” I explain, taking a sip of my water.
“Whaaaat?” she drawls. “When the fuck did that happen?”
“Like two weeks ago, I think.”
“How did you find out?”
“Bala.” I swallow, bracing myself for a reaction when I dish out the rest. “This is bad, Lena. Really bad. From what it sounds like, he wasn’t just caught. My gut is telling me it’s out of spite, and if that’s the case, I could be going down alongside him, Koko, and Franca. I could lose everything I worked so hard for.”
“Wait...lose everything?” She's confused, all right, staring at me like I’ve grown three more heads.
I nod, glancing around like she did just minutes ago. You can’t just go around telling these bitches you got early release. A lot of them will do anything to fuck it up for you and ensure you don’t get to leave them behind. It’s all out of jealousy, of course. Everyone here wants to leave. “I got my early release.”
Her initial silence is concerning, but when I glance up to gauge her reaction, her face is lit up in what I would consider excitement. “You did? When did you find out?”
Here comes the blow…
“Almost two weeks ago.”
Lena flinches the moment it sinks in. She seems hurt, surprised. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I haven’t even told Noely.” And it’s true, I haven’t. Why get her or Ma’s hopes up if it can get taken away at any moment? “The same day Judge gave me the news is the same day Andrés told me about Ryker over FaceTime. I h
ad to act like nothing was wrong.”
Lena’s lips sympathetically thin as she reaches out for me again with both hands this time. “I hate to tell you this, B, but I fucking told you not to trust that pendeja.”
“I know.” I nod, squeezing the shit out of her fingers. “I fucking know. But this is on me. This is what I get for being greedy, for only worrying about the cash flow.”
“Okay, no, we’re not doing this.” She clears her throat softly, gauging our surroundings again. “Your news is something to be happy about. There isn’t any proof you were involved, even if they open their mouths. That was her connect.”
“But I was helping her get it in,” I argue.
“And there’s zero proof of that. She can talk all she wants. Unless she has concrete, physical evidence, nothing is going to happen. The dude who was dumping the product in the trash bins, doesn’t work here. She probably doesn’t even know who he is.”
She has a point, really. There isn’t any proof, not that I can think of, anyway.
So why do I still have this sick feeling in my stomach?
♫ I’m Upset - Drake
It’s been a few days since returning to my normal first-shift schedule, and I’m still feeling out of whack. Then again, Benni and I haven’t had a moment to spare alone other than our nightly chats, so that could be the primary reason. To say I’m craving another taste would only be putting it lightly, but things have been too crazy for us to risk it. With Ryker under investigation, there’s been a lot of speculation regarding the details, which has Warden Kent out of his office more than usual. Lots of questions are being asked, and while I don’t have anything to do with Ryker or his...indiscretions, I can’t lie and say I’m not a little on edge when, technically, I’ve done the very same thing.
Well, some of it anyway.
That’s the very thought I’m shaking from my mind when I stalk into the box with Rodriguez after our lunch break. Mack, Jordan, Birks, and Delfino are all inside, each of them slipping on a pair of disposable gloves. Their heads snap toward the door as it clicks shut behind Rodriguez.
