Ambrosia

Chase Jett is certifiably insane and I’m going to kick his ass and gouge his eyeballs out and claw at that dimple in his chin until it’s the only thing left of his chin, because the fucker just got me thrown back in jail.

The door clinks shut, trapping us behind unbreakable steel bars. I’m doing my best not to hyperventilate, because I can’t destroy him if I can’t breathe, when he starts unbuttoning his shirt.

It’s a soft blue, and it makes his eyes extra bright. It also feels like a velvet silk, and concentrating on his long, capable fingers on the small buttons is the only thing keeping me from hitting the cold, hard concrete floor.

“What the ever-loving unholy fuck are you doing?” I shriek.

He wiggles his eyebrows. “Getting ready for my strip search.”

“This is so not funny,” I hiss, but not all of me is in complete agreement with my mouth’s assessment.

Parts of me are waking up and showing completely inappropriate interest.

His shirt flutters to the ground, leaving him in a sleeveless white undershirt tucked into his black jeans. His arms are sculpted beauty, his shoulders broad and bitable, his hips tight, his zipper bulging.

He makes quick work of pulling off the undershirt, and my mouth goes dry.

I’ve lost track of the number of orgasms this man has given me, but aside from that afternoon in my shower, I’ve never had a chance to fully appreciate his entire body in fully fluorescent lighting.

He kicks off his shoes, then shucks himself out of his pants and briefs in one swift motion. My legs suddenly can’t support me. I sink to the metal cot behind me and drink him in.

Shoulders of a god. Copper nipples nestled in a wavy matte of dark hair. His biceps need their own zip code, and his forearms are corded steel.

I want to lick his six-pack and sink my fingers into that beautiful man-vee perfectly showcasing his strong, curved shaft as it strains toward me. Hello, beautiful, I’ve missed you.

His thighs are powerful, and when I crook a finger at him, he bends and captures my mouth with his.

This kiss is everything. Licking, suckling, nipping, teasing, but not battling. His hands slide over my body, soothing and arousing at the same time. I stroke his bare shoulders, flick my fingers at his nipples, trace his abs, and finally rake my fingers down his cock.

He groans in my mouth, and suddenly he’s lifting me off the cot and carrying me to the back of the cell.

I cling to his shoulders. “What are you doing?”

“Swear to god, baby, I’m thinking beautiful, filthy things right now, but I don’t want to know where that thing’s been.”

I start laughing, but then my back hits cold cinderblocks. He shifts me so my legs are wrapped around his hips, his rod rubbing my clit, and rational thought evaporates.

“I don’t hate fucking you,” I pant.

“I fucking love fucking you,” he rasps.

“Did they turn the cameras off?”

“If they didn’t, I’ll kill ‘em.”

We’re locked in a jail cell, Chase is naked as a jaybird, threatening law enforcement officers, and I’m so turned on that I’m one big pulsing ball of lust.

“Too many clothes,” I say. “Off. Now.”

He helps me rip off my shirt while I rub my pussy all over his dick. Breaking contact with him physically hurts, but he holds my gaze the whole time we’re yanking my pants off, and I know he’s going to make it better.

He’s going to fill me and stretch me and hit all those good places to make me fall apart, and then he’s going to kiss me silly and do it all over again. All night long. With his mouth. With his hands. With his amazing supercock.

My leg comes free from my pants, and I practically climb him to get back to where I want to be. Where I need to be.

I don’t give him a chance to touch me, to get me off with his fingers or his tongue. I don’t want foreplay. I want him. I need him. I need him inside me, one with me, filling me and joining me and completing me.

“Bro,” he gasps as I slide down his length, and oh my god I love the way he says my name. That he has his own nickname for me. That he’s mine.

I don’t care if we’re a little fucked up. I don’t care if I’ve hated him most of my life. I don’t care if I lose my job or if I never go back to New York.

I just care that I’m his and he’s mine.

My legs tighten around him as he pumps into me. He’s huge, long and thick, and I can feel every heavy, solid inch of him on every thrust, and it’s driving me mad. I feel thick too. I’m heavy inside, building, coiling, desperate. With every drive, he hits that magic spot deep inside me where I ache the most, driving me higher, faster, faster and higher and deeper and spiraling out of control.

I’m panting his name, biting his ear, squeezing his nipples, his solid ass, and I’m about to come, so close, almost there, holy Christ he’s so fucking big and perfect and twisted just right to—ooooh, yes yes yes YES.

I fall over the edge, all semblance of smooth moves gone as I jerk and writhe and squeeze, wave after wave of pleasure exploding from my core against his thick cock. I grab his face and tug his mouth to mine, licking and sucking on his tongue while he groans and pulses inside me, driving into me while we crash over the waves together until my body has no more to give.

My legs are jelly, and the frantic kisses have slowed to long, slow, languid licks. Our bodies are both slicked with sweat, and I’ve completely forgotten that we’re in a jail cell.

Until now.

I tense, and Chase wraps his arms around me. “You’re fucking beautiful,” he says against my cheek, his lips tickling and teasing my skin.

I squeeze his hips with my legs, or try anyway—jelly doesn’t squeeze well.

Still, his cock pulses deep inside me. It’s like his penis is a sex triathlete, though the only events it better be competing in are my mouth and my vagina. So…a sex biathlete?

No, wait. He can come in my hand too.

If he has to.

“Naughty minx,” he murmurs.

“You have no idea,” I reply.

“Bro?” he says.

“Mm?”

“Congratulations. We just made prison our bitch.”

He gives me the most adorable grin I’ve ever seen. My body is sated, my freak-out button has been completely deactivated, and this handsome, evil, brilliant, twisted man with his dick still twitching in my hoo-ha is smiling at me.

I tip my head back and laugh, because what else is a jailbird to do after she’s made prison her bitch?