Prisoned - Marni Mann Page 0,30

toothbrushes or towels or anything to drink. I’d held my breath the whole time he was in our cell, waiting to be plucked out or grabbed or hurt in some way. It didn’t happen. He just tossed the blanket inside, grunted, and left. I tried shouting out a question, hoping that while he was still inside our cell he would at least give me something. But he didn’t. He ignored me and slammed the door shut.

All of this was so strange.

But we now had two blankets, and we’d eaten three meals today. Whoever prepared our food somehow managed to make yogurt taste like cottage cheese and beef taste like fish. And all of it left a terrible aftertaste of plastic. It didn’t matter how much toothpaste I smeared across my teeth, I couldn’t get rid of that flavor.

I stood at the sink, finishing my evening routine of washing down my body, but this time, I stripped off my tank and hung it over the back of the toilet. I left my bra on as I soaped under my arms, across the tops of my breasts, and over my stomach.

“I know you’re watching me,” I said, keeping my eyes on my hands.

“I am.”

I finally glanced in his direction. “There are three other walls, a floor, and a ceiling.”

“I don’t want to look at them, Kyle. I want to look at you.”

It wasn’t just what he had said; it was the way he had said it. The sound of his need. The roughness in his voice. It was deep enough to make me shiver. Sexy enough to make his words flutter underneath my bra and between my legs.

I looked away, knowing my reaction was showing on my face, and reached for the button and zipper on my pants. Things hadn’t progressed with us physically, but I still wanted to be clean. So, I laid my pants over my tank top, dropped my panties into the sink, and squirted more soap on my hands.

As I used my palms to scrub, I felt the heat from his stare start to scorch my skin. I expected nothing less. I was only wearing a bra. The side view he was getting was more of my body than he’d ever seen.

I wasn’t aiming to tease him—although I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying it. He didn’t even have to say anything or make any kind of sound at all. I could feel his response in the air.

It was turning me on.

Once each area of my body had been lathered at least twice, the suds completely washed off, I waited for the droplets to stop falling before I grabbed my tank to get dressed again.

“Don’t put it on.”

I looked across my shoulder at him. “I’m practically naked, Garin.”

“That’s the way I want you.”

I had never seen such hunger in a man’s eyes before.

“Come here,” he said.

“But—”

“Come here.” His voice had deepened even more. “Bring your clothes with you.”

It was as if he could sense my worry that Beard may walk in again at any minute and see me standing here, naked. Leaving my panties by the sink to dry, I lifted the tank top and pants and moved over to him.

As I sat down, he stood.

“Cover yourself with that blanket.” He pointed at the one on the ground that he’d folded in half. “I just need a minute.”

While he turned on the water, I climbed beneath the fold and propped myself up on my elbow, so I could watch him. He’d already taken off his shirt and pants, and he was wearing only his boxer briefs. There was something incredibly sexy about watching a man rub suds all over his skin, the way they slowly trickled down his sides, mixing with his tanned flesh and dark hair. His hands moved so fluidly, so confidently.

I wanted those hands on me.

His boxer briefs fell to the ground, and my heart started pounding so hard that I could feel it in my throat. The side angle gave me enough of a view to see the length of his cock, the thickness of it as it laid against his sack. I squeezed my thighs together, needing the heat and friction to satiate the throbbing inside my pussy.

But there was no relief. Just more tingling as my body starved to have him inside me.

A sigh gradually poured from my lips.

Garin looked at me. “Getting impatient?”

I felt my face flush. “No. I—”

“Want me.”

Was I that obvious? Did that mean he finally felt