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Josh always said my sass and attitude would get me into trouble long before my tits would. He was a bit crude like that. I would expect a hardened leader of inmates to be angry, not amused, by it though.
He’s quite the mystery and one I’m more intrigued to unravel the more I know.
“How old were you when you came here?” I ask. He stretches out his arms behind him and I can’t help but admire how his arms flex as he does it. I’m a bit distracted and don’t hear what he says.
“I’m sorry, what did you just say?”
“I was six,” he replies, and my mouth drops.
“Like…six years old? Like a little kid?” I squeak. I didn’t see anyone so young when I looked around before, but then again, I didn’t really look for them. He nods.
“Why were you dressed like a boy?” he asks, totally changing the subject. Seeming to sense my confusion, he clarifies. “You asked me a question, now it’s my turn.”
Since I really do need him if I’m going to survive this place, much less get out of it, I suppose playing twenty questions isn’t the worst thing in the world.
“Why do you think?” I reply. “Even if you’ve been here so long, you must know the world out there is not a kind place for women anymore.”
He nods again, as if this explains everything.
“How did you come to be in charge?” I ask.
“I challenged the old leader. In The Tomb, a challenge means a deathmatch in The Pit. I won.”
“How old were you then?”
“Sixteen. That’s two questions you owe me now.”
We sit in silence while I wash away the last of the grime and realize, I am going to have to get out of here soon. He seems to realize it too, because he stands and holds out a worn towel. I hesitate and he looks at me exasperated.
“Thank you,” I mutter and stand, taking the towel. I try to wrap myself quickly but before I can finish, I hear him gasp and I look at him. His eyes seem wide and bright, full of wonder and desire. Heat rises in me. I feel powerful like this with him watching. He’s only a few feet away from me and this feeling gives me confidence I didn’t know I had. Without hiding my body, I take a few minutes to run the towel over my body, drying myself completely. When I’m done, my confidence falters and I blush.
“Do you…have something I can wear?” I ask meekly, knowing this is the moment of truth. What will he do with me? And what do I want him to do with me? The latter scares me more.
This time, I’m sure his lip twitches.
“You don’t need clothes for what’s next.”
Eleven
Axle
She swallows deeply and I recognize both fear and desire in her eyes as she looks at me. The vibrant blue of her eyes is bright yet glazed, and I don’t think she realizes it when her tongue darts out and licks her lips. I growl, unable to hold back anymore as my lips crash to hers. Immediately, the demons quiet inside me. I know I’ll have to look at that closer later, but for now, I revel in the fact that this woman tames the flames, the need for pain and violence.
My tongue demands entrance to her mouth, taking no mercy. I feel her hesitation for barely a second before her mouth melts into mine. She tastes like rum and sweetness. Purity I’ve never felt before.
Her arms wrap around my neck and the only thing holding the towel up is our bodies pressed together. I rip the towel away, never letting my lips leave hers, before grabbing her ass and pulling her legs around me. She gasps, which quickly turns into a moan as my lips travel down her neck. Nipping and biting at her skin I am rewarded with a small mewling sound that somehow makes my dick even harder. I pull my head back for only a moment before leaning forward and slowly licking circles around her nipples which harden under my ministrations.
Part of me wants to tear into this woman, to claim her and make her mine in the only way I know how. But there’s something else inside of me, something foreign piercing my heart that demands I worship her. There will be time enough for the violence I crave soon enough.
Pulling back, I look into her eyes and watch as they dilate, her lips parted and panting. A real smile crosses my face at the sight. She wants this.
Twelve
Ana
My body is at war with itself, but I can’t deny how much I want this man. It’s incredible how close fear and desire can be. Maybe it’s being here and knowing the games and running are over. Spending a life hiding, pretending to be someone else, is no life at all. The only sexual touch I’ve ever felt from a man has been pain, until now. He pulls back and I almost moan in protest. Seeing the hunger in his eyes does something to me, and I feel my legs squeeze around him involuntarily.
I don’t even know this man, just met him, but everything inside of me is screaming that I want him.
