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Then he whispered, stroking the side of her face, “Quiero lamer tu coño, mi dulce puta cachonda . . .” (I want to lick your cunt, my sweet, nasty whore.)
There was no fucking way he was going to let his partner know that he wanted her so badly. He wanted Heaven all to himself. He wanted to hold her beautiful tits in his hands and slide his dick between them and come all over her. He wanted to be the only one coming in her mouth, in her ass (if she wanted him there), and in her cunt.
He wanted her.
And he’d have her.
Even if that meant he had to—
Corbet’s growl yanked Martinez from his crazy thought of breaking Heaven out of prison, and he stared enviously—jealousy slowly brewing in the pit of stomach—as he watched the object of his desires swallow Corbet’s dick as he viciously gripped her by the head and thrust himself in and out of her mouth.
“Aaah, aaah . . . aaah . . . suck that shit, bitch . . .”
His body jerked and Heaven gobbled and slobbed and swallowed a glob of heated cream, then slowly licked around his head as if it were a vanilla-frosted cupcake.
Martinez gritted his teeth.
He wanted to punch this hijo de puta in his motherfucking neck.
FIFTY
If It Don’t Fit (Don’t Force It) . . .
“Hope them muhfuckas over there aren’t trying to get in them drawers,” CO Rawlings said, out of nowhere. Well, it hadn’t really been random. It’d been brewing in the back of his mind of late. Not seeing her as much was fucking with him. And he saw how motherfuckers like Flores and Martinez leered at her, and he didn’t like that shit one bit.
But he had to play it cool.
Still, he needed more than videos. And phone sex—from her. He needed to be inside that pussy, at least once a week. But—fuck, the lack of available overtime was making it difficult for him to make moves. So he couldn’t get to her the way he wanted, and he didn’t like the fact that she was over on 2 North with motherfuckers like Corbet and Martinez. Both them motherfuckers were snakes.
He didn’t want anyone coming at his woman crazy. And he damn sure didn’t want any of the motherfuckers up at the prison trying to get at her.
And if she was playing him . . . God help them both.
Silence fell over the line. And then Heaven blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Nah. You heard me,” he stated, his tone biting. “Who else you fucking in there?”
Heaven frowned. “I don’t like your tone. And I don’t like what you’re insinuating. I’m not fucking anyone else.” Well, okay—she was lying. “But since you want to question me. Maybe I should be asking you who you fucking. Since you want to accuse me.”
“Chill with that. I’m not fucking anyone.” He paused to let his words sink in. “This dick is yours, all of it.” He sighed. “My bad, baby,” he apologized. “I’m fucking bugging. Not seeing you got me feeling some type of way.”
She rolled her eyes. How cliché. She’d heard that line before. More times than she cared to remember. “I don’t know that,” she said.
“Yeah, true. But I’m telling you.”
“Uh-huh. And I’m telling you the same thing, but you don’t seem to want to believe that. So why should I?”
“You right. My bad.” He blew out another breath. “It’s just that . . .”
“And why didn’t you tell me that you are the warden’s son?”
There was a deafening silence between the two of them, before he finally spoke. “Who told you that?”
“Well, is it true?”
“Yeah, but how’d you find out?”
“That doesn’t matter. But what matters is you being the warden’s son. And you not saying anything.”
