She did. And this time, she never took her eyes from mine.
The rolling of her hips gave way to a rise and fall pattern, sometimes shallow, other times deep. Her breath hitched in her throat and her breaths turned to gasps.
She was doing it as much for herself as for me.
When a light sweat beaded on her forehead, I still didn’t help her. I let her use me to her heart’s content. Only when she shifted position, unable to continue the same vigorous movement, did I pull her to my chest, clutch her close, and jackhammer her mercilessly.
Once again, her eyes were shut.
“Look at me,” I said.
She opened her eyes and pressed her lips to mine. We worked together, rocking in a steady rhythm, driving me as deep as possible.
She tightened around me as I drilled into her, grinding hard. She was right there with me, every stroke of the way.
I rolled over and placed Harper on her back. Now I was the one performing the same rolling hip motion she had earlier, stimulating both her clit and g-spot.
Her hands curled around the blankets, gripping so tight she yanked them off the mattress.
As I tore another scream from her throat, I neared my own glorious orgasm. My cock grew harder still as I pumped my hips into her, filling her with my seed.
I collapsed on the bed beside her. We lay facing each other, eyes open, peering at each other wondrously. A smile escaped her lips and she giggled into the mattress.
I wouldn’t have expected her to have such a girly chuckle.
I reached over and tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear and gently stroked her cheek. A moment of intimacy in a purely animalistic and physical act.
Except, it wasn’t, was it?
Even now, after our first engagement, I could sense there was something special between us, like an unexplored cavern desperate to be searched and reveal its treasures.
I wasn’t meant to get involved in anything that would make the situation more complicated than it already was.
I feared I may have done just that.
I started awake and glanced about the room, taking stock of my situation.
I cursed myself for having fallen asleep. I leaned over the edge of the bed, scooped up Fayn’s shard of metal I used as a knife, and immediately turned toward the door.
No one was there. No one had entered and slit my throat.
But they could have done.
And they could have done it to the girl too.
Harper.
She lay beside me in bed, naked, her soft nubile body curled up close to mine. She lay in the curve of my arm, tucked into my chest and shoulder. Her face lay planted on her own hand. She looked so calm, so serene.
I wish I didn’t have to wake her up.
Then something else struck me.
I could see her as plain as day. The lights were back on. The real lights, not the emergency pulsing ones from the night before. If the power had been restored, did that mean the riot was over?
I had to check.
I leaned to one side and gently placed Harper on the mattress. She mumbled under her breath but didn’t wake up.
I pulled on my pants and didn’t bother with the shirt. I approached the door. It hissed open and I peered left and right, along either long hallway.
Signs of the barricade remained at the crossroad juncture. The beds and tables and chairs lay broken and scattered across the space. I didn’t notice any bodies among the debris. But there were smears of blood along the walls, and something brown and turgid gathered in a thick pool on the floor. I preferred not to think about what that was.
It was quiet. I doubted the warden would allow the power to be turned back on if he hadn’t successfully seized control of the prison once more.
I turned back into my room and scooped up my T-shirt.
“Harper,” I said. “You need to wake up.”
She muttered under her breath and turned her head to the other side of the bed.
I wish I could have let her sleep more but things were happening, and they could be happening faster than I realized.
I sat on the edge of the bed, leaned over, and gently prodded Harper on the arm.
“Harper? You need to get up.”
She groaned as she lifted her head and peered over at me. One eye was shut completely, the other squinted and peered at me through a tiny slit.
With the riot taking place, sleep had been fitful and came only in brief spurts. I doubted our… activities had helped much either.
Harper stretched her arms and wrapped the blanket around herself.
“It’s the riot,” I said. “I think it’s over.”
Her eyes snapped open and she peered up at me.
“Really?” she said. “Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure,” I said. “The power’s back on and the barricade has been demolished. I can’t see any prisoners anywhere.”
Harper tossed her legs over the side of the bed, bent down, and picked up her clothes. She got dressed, taking her time to ensure she didn’t accidentally flash me her skin.
Funny, I thought, considering I’d seen—and kissed—every inch of it last night.
Several times.
With her prowess between the sheets, it was no surprise the champion had claimed her for himself.
He would take only the best and I found it difficult to believe any of the other Prizes could be better than her.
She looked good, she smelled good, she fucked amazingly well. She ticked the boxes of every red-blooded male in the prison.
Including me.
I had bedded the champion’s Prize.
I shook my head at my own stupidity. I didn’t know what the repercussions would be, only that there were definitely going to be some.
And they were going to be very serious.
“I’ll take you back to the Prize Pool,” I said.
Already, my stomach churned at the idea of putting her back among the girls for other prisoners to select.
When the champion turned up to claim his property, I wondered if Harper would let slip about what
