His nostrils snorted and, although not tired, he was clearly working hard. He sped up as he felt me clench around him and he ripped another body-shaking orgasm from my throat.
I was in the hands of a master, somehow attuned to every movement and rhythmic pulse of my body.
He stroked me the way I liked, exactly when I liked.
I had never begged for my lover to stop before, and I was trying desperately hard not to say it now. He took me to the very fringes of pleasure that crested intense pain.
Unable to take it any longer, I broke.
“Stop,” I said. “Stop.”
He was taking me to a place I had never been before, and it frightened me.
I clutched my hands to his but he didn’t let go, didn’t stop, and kept on drilling me.
“I can’t…” I gasped. “I can’t…”
“Trust me,” he said through gritted teeth. “You can.”
I shook my head as he shifted me onto my stomach and entered me from behind, plunging me to new depths. The angle was different, deeper than earlier, and largely untouched by his throbbing cock.
He plumbed it.
He leaned forward and whispered in my ear.
“You’re almost there. I can feel it.”
My hair was slick with sweat and my entire body ached. Each stroke in my pussy threatened to overtake me. But the real danger, the real threat, was just there, on the horizon of my endurance.
I found a new lease of confidence and bounced back, pushing against him as he thrust deep inside me.
He grunted under his breath as we rode that ultimate rise to peer over the edge of the precipice to the unknown islands of paradise that lay on the other side.
“Yes,” I said. “Yes!”
I screamed as he took me over the side. He grunted and pummeled me, riding me unlike anyone else ever has before, and we both descended into the raging rapids.
I turned my head to kiss him. He leaned over me. Our lips were joined and a spark fired that began in my aching pussy and bounced over the surface of my entire body.
His hips thrust one last time and his cock hardened in that signature sign that he had climaxed as he pumped his seed inside me.
Jackhammer wasn’t an appropriate description.
How about sex god?
It wasn’t just the physical sex that pushed me over the edge. There was something else too, something unmistakable, something I had never noticed before.
It wasn’t only because he had taken me to a depth of orgasm I’d never experienced before. It was the sensation of rightness. He touched me not only physically but emotionally.
It was a crashing crescendo of perfectly formulated music with the chords and high melody working in tandem to paint complete harmony.
It was a golden light at the heart of me, at my center, and as I peered over at the stallion lying beneath me in his bed, with me curled up on his broad chest, I wondered if he felt it too.
Probably not, I thought. This was probably normal for him and there was nothing special about it at all.
Though it was easy to forget in a place like this, there was such a thing as love. I knew that from seeing the look on Ivy’s face each time Kren came to pick her up.
I’d begun to notice the same expression on—unbelievably—Harper’s face too. She’d been in this place longer than any of the others—except for Lily, who we tended not to count as part of the Prizes.
I wasn’t happy with where I found myself but through my endless studying about the history of others, I learned the great and the good and the truly evil all had one thing in common: they made the most of whatever position they were put in.
They could be at war, with the river at their backs and their enemy intent on slaying them, and they would look deep inside themselves for how they were going to deal with their situation.
This wasn’t the first time I had great sex with an inmate but it was the first time I felt that blossoming golden light in my chest.
What did it mean?
Did it even mean anything?
Probably not. And it served no one for me to think it did.
My skin felt hot to the touch and I wondered if I was still recovering from the previous night of lovemaking.
I placed my arm to the wall and the coolness of it soothed my skin.
I happened to glance at my arm where, until just a few hours ago, I sported the nasty black bruise. Only now… it was gone.
“Huh?” I said out loud.
I ran a hand over the spot where I knew it should have been but was no longer there.
Maybe I was mistaken and it was on the other arm. It didn’t sound very likely but it was the kind of thing I had done multiple times over the years.
I checked but it didn’t sport the ugly injury either. Even stranger was that the spot where I was certain the bruise should have been was even hotter than the rest of my body.
Had it been a rash? I wondered. Was that the reason for it not being visible?
Then why wasn’t it itchy? I wondered. And why didn’t it hurt?
It didn’t make sense. Why should the nasty bruise be there one day and not there the next?
Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was. That, at least, was an explanation I could understand.
I filed it away for later and focused on the moment in hand.
I’d never experienced anything like it my entire life. I kept a neat and tidy list of my favorite lovers over the years and no one had ever come close to surpassing Greg Kyle in college. We hadn’t been together long, which made our time together even more memorable.
But now, Greg Kyle was a very distant third. The two times we
