Page 36 of Prey

Islam the cell door behind me, my cock still throbbing in my pants. Thirteen days. Thirteen fucking days of having her here, and I’m losing my mind.

The security monitor on the wall shows her sprawled on the cot, my cum glistening on her skin. Even from here, I can see her chest rising and falling, the way her fingers twitch like she wants to touch herself again.

I need to get her to the compound. Tomorrow. Today. Whatever the fuck time it is when the sun comes up.

My fist connects with the concrete wall before I realize I’m moving. Pain shoots through my knuckles, but it’s nothing compared to the ache in my cock every time I hear her moan my name through the speakers.

She calls for me in her sleep.Nikolai.Over and over, at this point it could be a prayer or a curse. Both would have me just as desperately fucked up with this primal need to make her mine in every way possible. I’ve started sleeping with the camera feed on just to hear it, and that’s when I knew I was truly fucked.

The gym is supposed to be empty at this hour. I need to burn off this energy before I go back down there and do something stupid—like give her exactly what she’s begging for.

But of course, Darius is there. The one person who sees through my bullshit without even trying.

He’s at the heavy bag, throwing combinations with that loose, easy power that makes his fights look like dancing. His shirt is already soaked with sweat, tattoos shifting with each strike.

“Can’t sleep either?” He doesn’t turn around, but I catch his smirk in the mirror. “Or did you just finish another late-night visit to your special project?”

“Fuck off.” I move to the weight rack, needing something heavy to push against.

“That’s a yes, then.” He lands a particularly vicious hook. “She’s yours. You said so. And yet here you are, hiding from her in the gym.”

I load the barbell with more weight than necessary. “She’s going to the compound. Today.’

“She’s not going anywhere, and we both know it.” Darius stops hitting the bag, turning to face me fully. “But sure. Before or after you crack and fuck her?”

The barbell clangs as I drop it into position harder than intended. “I don’t fuck the people I take.”

“She’s not one of the people you take. That’s the whole point.” He grabs his water bottle, taking a long drink while studying me. “There was no job. You just... wanted her. That’s why you’ve been walking around like someone’s got your balls in a vise for two weeks.”

I grunt through the first set, letting him think it’s been two weeks instead of thirteen days, four hours, and—I check the clock—thirty-seven minutes since I took her. Correcting him would only prove how deep she’s gotten under my skin.

“You know what your problem is?” Darius moves closer, that calculated casualness that means he’s about to say something Idon’t want to hear. “You’re thinking about this like she’s just another name on a list. But she’s not, is she?”

My muscles burn as I push through another rep. The thought of moving her to the compound sits like acid in my gut. Throwing her in with the general population, letting her become just another acquisition processed through the system. My jaw clenches hard enough to make my teeth ache.

If I move her now, before I’ve had her—really had her—I’ll never touch her again. That’s the rule. Once they’re in the compound, they’re off-limits. And Jenna hasn’t fucking done anything to warrant being sold anyway. What the fuck have I done?

But fuck, I know what happens if I give in. If I push inside that tight, wet heat she’s been offering me. The way she spreads her legs now when she hears the lock turn, how she moans my name like she’s already mine.

One time. That’s all it would take. One time, feeling her pussy clench around my cock, and I’d be done for. The wanting would turn into something darker. Permanent. I’d need her under me, around me, filled with me. Not just once, but constantly.

The barbell shakes in my grip. Images flood my mind—her wrists bound to my headboard, her body marked with my cum, her belly swollen with my child. Keeping her in my quarters where I could wake her up by pushing inside, where I could bend her over my desk between meetings, where she’d learn that her only purpose is taking my cock whenever I need to empty myself.

“Shit.” The word escapes before I can stop it.

Darius laughs, low and knowing. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re already gone on her, aren’t you?”

I rack the weight harder than necessary, the clang echoing through the empty gym. My cock throbs at the mere thought of it, and I know Darius can see it because I’m barely holding ontocontrol. She’s already changed something fundamental in me without even trying.

“What’s the big deal?” Darius shrugs, grabbing a towel to wipe his face. “Just fuck her. You get to claim a moral high ground now when you fucking kidnapped a random woman whose only transgression in life is likely a parking ticket.”

He says it like it’s one category. It isn’t. The women in those cells earned every hour of what’s coming for them. Jenna learned to count exits at four in the morning because someone taught her the world hurts you. She isn’t one of them. She’s what they make. Darius doesn’t bother with the difference. I’ve never once managed to stop. I grab my water bottle, avoiding his gaze. “It’s not about morals.”

“Then what?” He leans against the mirror, studying me like I’m one of his manipulation targets. “She’s not interested? Playing hard to get?”

A bitter laugh escapes me. “She wants it. Stays naked in there now, waiting for me.” The words spill out before I can stop them. “Sucked my dick on day three. Keeps calling out my name in the night, dreaming of me.”

Darius’s eyebrows shoot up. “You told her your name?”