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“Nothing between us that feels good will ever be wrong. Now say it.”
Her hands slowly drop from her face, her blue eyes blinking once before they lock on mine. “No, I won’t deny you, Daddy. I promise.”
A blaze lights up inside me, fueling my purpose more ferociously than before. “I’m going to make you so fucking happy, kitten.”
I don’t know how we’re going to get through this riot so I can fulfil my promise.
But I’ll fucking die trying.
6
Kitty
Bang. Crash. Boom.
The cocoon I buried myself in is fracturing.
I feel Monroe flinch at the relentless barrage against the door and the berserker roars accompanying it. The inmates are more determined than ever to break in.
To capture me.
Most likely hurt Monroe because I know he’ll fight to keep me from them.
The thought of finding this amazing man only to lose him prickles fresh tears at my eyes.
His rough hands frame my face. “Hush, baby, don’t cry. Have you forgotten my promise already?”
“But…how are we going to get out of here?” I whisper in a hopeless, defeated voice. The smell of smoke is getting thicker and I didn’t want to look but I’m sure the door is caving in. The manic voices are getting louder, more distinct.
And I definitely don’t like what the convicts out there are yelling. The horrible things they’re threatening?—
“Hey.” His fingers brush my cheek, the faint abrasiveness grounding me. “Don’t think about what they’re saying or doing. You’re right here, with me. Okay, baby?”
He’s rough and hard everywhere except for his eyes and his mouth. And the way he cradles me like I’m the most precious thing in this world makes me panic way less.
But for how long before I’m ripped from his arms?
I blink as more tears threaten, then squeak as he pulls his monster rod out of me. Dear God, I only got one quick look at it before and I still can’t fathom how he got it inside me.
But…God, it’d felt incredible. So good I want him again. And again.
“Keep those legs up for me. You’re not allowed to spill a single drop,” he warns as he straightens.
For a long moment, he stares down at himself, at the evidence of my virgin blood on his glistening shaft. His eyes go a little wild and he mutters something I can’t quite catch under his breath.
He starts to harden again but he exhales and reluctantly tugs up his jumpsuit.
Seeing the dark orange uniform reminds me he’s a prisoner. A convict sentenced to hard time for his role in a bank robbery that severely injured two members of the public.
Granted, by all accounts I’ve come across so far, he was betrayed by his fellow comrades, kept in the dark about the guns they brought to the bank and their true intentions to steal millions instead of negotiating better rates for veteran families.
His ex-buddies were motivated by pure greed while he’d had nobler intentions. The judge took those circumstances into consideration, but I can’t lose sight of the hard facts.
I’ve just handed over my cherry to a convict on a silver platter. On top of my father’s work desk.
And, no, I don’t regret a single moment of it. Because if I’m about to die?—
Bang!
