Chapter 4 4. Alma - The Prison 4

This motherfucker thinks he can break me, but he will soon understand that no matter how hard he tries, he can’t break someone who’s used to destroying men like him. He thinks he’s the hunter, but it won’t be long before he realizes he’s the prey—and I’m the monster hiding in his closet.

“I will survive without having to whore myself for anyone,” I assure him.

“That’s what all of them say before they get on their knees and start sucking cock,” he says as he steps away and angles the showerhead so the freezing water hits me directly on the back of my head.

My teeth start to chatter. “¡Vete a la mierda, puto cabrón de mierda!” I yell. “You can suck your own dick if you like it so much!” 

Go to hell, you fucking piece of shit.

I hate the cold. Summer is my favorite season, and if I could, I’d spend all my free time at the beach, soaking up the sun. Winter, on the other hand, is my least favorite time of the year.

“What was that?” the guard inquires. “Did you just say that you’re happy to finally get a much-needed shower?”

I don’t reply, at least not for a while, but when it’s clear that he doesn’t care that I’m going into hypothermia, I realize that I must play nice–at least until I’m free of the handcuffs. 

Gritting my teeth, I say, “Yes,” wanting this to be over. “But hurry up! I don’t want to get sick because of you.” 

Having the flu is the worst. 

The guard steps behind me, his tall body shielding me from the cold water. He’s so fucking warm. I should be fighting him, but instead I press my back into his torso, needing more of his body heat. 

His arms wrap around my waist, and he murmurs into my ear, his lips gently brushing against my skin, “I like it when my kitten rubs herself all over my body.” 

He did not just refer to me as kitten. 

When he least expects it, he will learn that this kitten has claws so fucking sharp, they will cut him into pieces so small that no one will be able to find them once I’m done with him.

The shower gel rests on a metal shelf next to the shower. He picks it up and applies a generous amount to a loofah. Before he starts washing me, he pushes down my panties. I don’t have the energy to fight him anymore since I’m so damn cold, so I just let him get me fully naked so I can be out of here already, preferably by a stove, with a warm blanket around me while enjoying a cup of tea as I watch this bastard slowly bleeding to death.

“Try anything funny,” I warn him, “and you end up without your precious cock.” 

His fingers trail my spine before he pulls my wet hair to the side and starts washing my back. “You and my cock will get well acquainted in no time,” he says before he bites me so hard, I scream while I thrash, trying to make him stop, which he eventually does. 

Now, not only does my cheek hurt, but also the area between my shoulder blades. Men just love hurting women, and I absolutely love ending them. 

“Will you scream so lovely when I fuck your gorgeous ass as well?” he asks while he presses his cock between my ass cheeks. 

If he decides to fuck me, I won’t be able to stop him, but I will fucking kill him, and I will take my time doing it. I expect him to shove his cock inside me, but he just continues to wash my back, and once he’s done, he moves to my legs before he has me face him. 

His gaze takes in my tits, and he grabs them and jiggles them. 

“Stop that!” I hiss. 

Does he listen? Of fucking course not. 

His mouth descends on me, attacking my right nipple, sucking hard while his thumb teases the other. He groans as he sucks even harder.

My body—my own fucking body—keeps betraying me. Pleasure rises, making me gasp as a pulse sparks between my legs. I’ve never experienced this before, since I’ve never let a man touch me.

He looks up at me, and I finally notice the color of his eyes—hazel. I find them oddly beautiful. There has to be something wrong with my brain if I’m starting to see any part of him that way.

Still watching me, he drags his mouth to my other nipple, bites it, then sucks just as hard, while rolling the other between his fingers.

My clit throbs even more, and another gasp tears out of me. What the fuck is wrong with me?

“¡Para!” I hiss when the pressure between my legs becomes so much that I feel the urge to touch myself.

He doesn’t stop. He keeps squeezing my tits, bringing them together so that he can suck both my nipples at the same time. Despite not wanting him to touch me, I don’t understand how this can feel so good. 

“Stop it!” I try to yell, but it comes out more like a whine. 

I hate how my body reacts, how weak I have become in the face of carnal pleasure. The more I fight it, the better it feels. Cold water keeps pouring over our bodies, but instead of cooling my heated skin, it only heightens the sensations tearing through me.

I bite the inside of my cheeks, not wanting him to realize how much he’s affecting me. 

His mouth finally leaves my nipples alone, only to claim my lips instead—he bites my bottom lip before kissing me, rougher than before.

“I might keep you,” he murmurs against my lips, “if you beg me nicely on your knees.”

I laugh. “You must be delusional if you think I’ll beg you for anything.”

His right hand leaves my chest and slips between my legs. “Are you sure?” he asks as his middle finger circles my clit.