Chapter Fifteen

The next morning, Milo woke with a start, feeling disoriented for a moment before the memories of the previous night came flooding back. His face flushed hot as he recalled the feeling of Torres’s hard cock sliding between his thighs, the rough thrust of his hips, the musky scent of his sweat. Milo bit his lip, shifting beneath the thin prison blanket, hyper-aware of the ache between his legs.

He’d been so worked up last night, rutting shamelessly against the mattress as Torres used him. Milo’s cock twitched at the thought, still heavy and aching from being denied release two nights in a row now. His balls felt tender, a constant reminder of his unfulfilled arousal.

Milo glanced over at Torres, still sleeping beside him. He drank in the sight of the other man’s muscular frame, the sheets pooled around his waist, revealing the tantalizing vee of his hips. Milo’s gaze lingered on the bulge in Torres’s boxers, heat blooming in his belly as he remembered taking that thick length into his mouth. God, he wanted it again. What’s wrong with me? I’m sick. But he did want it, he couldn’t pretend otherwise.

Torres began to stir, and Milo quickly averted his eyes, feigning sleep. He tried to will away the throbbing between his thighs, but it was no use. His entire body felt electric with pent-up need. As Torres shifted beside him, Milo’s breath caught, anticipation and nerves fluttering in his stomach. Would Torres want him again? The thought made Milo’s cock jump. He squeezed his eyes shut, lost in a swirl of arousal and confusion.

He felt Torres lean over him, and his stomach swooped. But then Torres was climbing out of the bunk, ignoring Milo completely.

Milo breathed out, disappointed.

He watched, entranced, as Torres dropped into a set of push-ups on the floor of their cell. His olive skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, muscles rippling beneath the thin fabric of his undershirt with each fluid movement.

Torres’s arms bulged, veins cording along the taut sinews as he lowered his body with controlled precision. The defined planes of his back shifted mesmerizingly. Milo’s gaze traveled lower, lingering on the swell of Torres’s firm glutes under the thin fabric of his boxers. He could see the shape of Torres’s cock hanging heavy beneath him. He swallowed hard, mouth going dry.

Dangerous. That was the word that surfaced in Milo’s mind as he drank in the sight of his cellmate. Torres exuded an aura of barely leashed power and menace. His features were hard, chiseled, giving him a brooding intensity that made Milo’s heart skip. One wrong move and those powerful hands could easily overpower him, that muscular body pin him effortlessly. The thought made Milo shiver, though not entirely out of fear.

Torres finished his set and stood, chest heaving slightly with exertion. He swiped the back of one hand across his brow. Milo couldn’t tear his eyes away from the rippling contours of Torres’s abs, the deep grooves of his hips disappearing tantalizingly beneath the waistband of his boxer shorts.

A flicker of heat ignited low in Milo’s belly, and he quickly looked away, face flushing. What was wrong with him? He levered himself out of bed, reaching for his jumpsuit. He realized then that there was dried come crusted on his thighs. Oh God, that was filthy. He went to the sink and used a cloth to clean it up, not wanting to go to the showers with the evidence still on him.

There was a flicker of movement in the bathroom mirror, and then Torres had yanked him against the wall of their cell. Milo’s breath hitched as he felt the other man’s hard body press into him, bare chest to bare chest. Heat flooded his cheeks as Torres’s fingers dug into his hip, the possessive grip sending a jolt of electricity through his body.

Milo’s heart leaped as Torres leaned in, his breath hot against Milo’s ear. “You like it when I’m rough with you, princesa?” Torres growled, his voice low and dangerous. Milo could only whimper in response, his body betraying him as he arched into the touch.

Torres’s hand slid down Milo’s side, his rough fingers tracing the curve of his waist before dipping lower to cup his ass. Milo bit his lip, trying to suppress the moan that threatened to escape as Torres squeezed the tender flesh. He could feel Torres’s morning wood pressing against him, and he couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to have that thick cock inside him.

“Torres,” Milo stammered, his voice shaking. “Are you…are you going to want more from me tonight?” He felt his face flush with embarrassment as he spoke the words, but he couldn’t suppress the desperate need that welled up inside him. He wanted Torres to fuck him, to claim him in the most primal way possible.

Torres chuckled darkly, his breath hot against Milo’s ear. “You want more, putita?” he taunted, his fingers digging into Milo’s hip. “You want me to fuck you?”

Milo nodded, unable to speak. He felt like he was on fire, his body aching with need. Torres’s grip tightened on his hip, and Milo could feel the other man’s cock twitch.

“Well, if you want to be fucked, you’d better steal some lube from the medical center,” Torres said with a smirk. “Unless you want me to do you dry.”

Milo’s face burned with humiliation at the thought. He knew he couldn’t do that, couldn’t bear the pain. But stealing…it was a risk.

Still, he nodded again, his eyes downcast.

Torres chuckled once more before releasing him, stepping back and leaving Milo to lean against the wall, his legs shaking and his heart racing. He couldn’t believe what had just happened, couldn’t believe that he had basically asked Torres to fuck him. But he couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through him at the thought of it.

It made it hard to focus on his duties in the medical center. His mind kept drifting back to Torres’s order. The memory made his face flush hot.

Torres had been so casual about it, so matter-of-fact when he told Milo to steal some lube. Like it was nothing, like Milo getting fucked by him was an inevitability. The thought made Milo’s stomach twist with nerves, but he couldn’t deny the molten flare of arousal that accompanied it.

He wanted it, God help him. Wanted Torres to make good on that dark promise, to take him hard and rough. Milo squirmed where he sat, shifting uncomfortably as his cock throbbed in his pants. He shouldn’t be getting turned on by the idea of being used like that, but he couldn’t control the visceral pull or his body’s reaction.

His gaze drifted over to the supply closet, his throat tightening. Torres expected him to steal lube from there. The thought made him dizzy with a swirl of forbidden excitement and dread. If he took it, there would be no going back. Torres would fuck him, claim his body in the most raw, primal way.

Milo shuddered, his skin prickling with fear and anticipation. Part of him recoiled at the idea, at the thought of submitting himself so completely to someone as dangerous as Torres. It went against every instinct of self-preservation Milo possessed. Torres was a predator, brutally compelling but capable of such casual violence. Milo had seen that first hand.

But the darker part of Milo’s psyche craved that rough domination,. He’d fantasized about it before, on the nights while Torres was in solitary. Imagined what it would feel like to have Torres spread him open and fuck into him with that thick, relentless cock.

Milo swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. His fingers twitched with the urge to reach down and palm himself through his scrubs. He shouldn’t be getting this worked up over the thought of being used like that. It was depraved, madness.

And yet, his cock throbbed insistently as images of Torres looming over him, pinning him to the mattress, flickered through his mind. Milo bit his lip hard, trying to stifle the desperate whine that threatened to escape his throat.

He knew that if he stole that lube, there would be no going back. Torres would take him, would claim his body as his own.

That’s why he did it. His heart raced as he opened the supply closet, fingers trembling as he slipped the small bottle of lube into his pocket. He glanced around the medical center, but no one seemed to have noticed his theft. With a sigh of relief, he returned to his duties.

The lube seemed to burn a hole in his pocket as he worked, a constant reminder of what was to come. Milo’s stomach twisted with nerves and anticipation. He couldn’t believe he was actually going through with this.

When he returned to his cell, he found Torres doing pull-ups. The man worked out endlessly, but Milo couldn’t deny the results were worth it. His muscles rippling with every movement. Milo’s breath caught in his throat as he watched the other man’s powerful form, his eyes drawn to the way Torres’s back muscles flexed and relaxed with each pushup.

Milo felt a flush creep up his neck as he realized he was staring. He quickly averted his gaze.

Torres dropped to the floor and eyed Milo with interest. “What do you want, princesa?”

Milo shyly held out the bottle of lube, his fingers trembling slightly. “I…I got it,” he stammered.

Torres rose and took the bottle from Milo’s outstretched hand. “Good boy,” he said, his voice low and husky. “You’re a hungry little puta, aren’t you? Tonight, I’m going to make you squeal.”

***

Dinner seemed to last forever. Milo felt like he was in another world, everything so far off. He let the rapid Spanish of the Latinos flow over him, cocooning him from everything else. The only thing that mattered was what would happen when they got back to the cell. God, would Torres really? He’d said he would. Milo could barely finish his food, he was so nervous.

When they were finally done, Milo felt like a weight had slid from his shoulders. He walked back to the cell in a daze. Nervousness and excitement made his palms sweat and his breath come shallow. He couldn’t believe he was about to do this, but neither could he deny that he wanted it.

He didn’t wait for the lights to go out. When Torres lay down on his bed and picked up a paperback, Milo stripped down to his boxers and climbed in beside him. Torres looked up from his book and laughed, a deep, throaty sound that sent shivers down Milo’s spine. “What are you doing, princesa?” he asked, his voice soft with amusement.

Milo blushed, feeling self-conscious under Torres’s gaze. He stared at Torres’s body, the ripple of muscle under his undershirt, the way his biceps bulged as he held his book. Torres was so masculine, so dominant, and Milo felt a thrill of anticipation at the thought of being under him.

Torres laughed again and reached over to pinch Milo’s thigh. “Oh, you’re eager. I get it. Well, you have to wait.”

He leaned back against the pillows, ignoring Milo as he continued to read. Milo squirmed with anticipation. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Excitement pinged around in his gut. He felt like he was going crazy. Maybe he was. Wanting this was definite evidence in favor of that.

When the lights went out, Milo was shocked when Torres was on him instantly. Torres pressed him down into the bunk, his weight pinning Milo to the mattress. Milo cried out, but Torres shushed him, his voice low and urgent. “Don’t make a noise, everyone can hear you,” he murmured.

Torres slid out of his clothes and lay naked on top of him. He could feel every inch of Torres’s body pressed against him, the heat of his skin, the strength of his muscles. Milo felt insignificant under him, but also protected. He couldn’t believe how good it felt to have Torres’s body against his, how strong and powerful he felt.

Milo’s breath hitched as Torres began to move against him, his hips grinding into Milo’s. He could feel Torres’s hardness against his thigh, and he knew that tonight, he was going to be fucked. He couldn’t wait.

He lay still as Torres climbed up over him, his pulse beating fast. He could feel Torres’s weight pressing down on him, and he felt a thrill of fear and excitement. Torres knelt over Milo’s face, his half-hard cock in his hand. Milo’s breath caught in his throat as Torres pushed himself into Milo’s mouth.

Milo closed his eyes and surrendered to the feeling of Torres’s cock in his mouth. He loved the taste of Torres’s skin, the salty tang of his precum. He loved the feeling of Torres’s cock growing harder in his mouth, the way Torres’s hips began to move as he fucked down into Milo’s throat. Milo moaned softly, the sound muffled by Torres’s cock. He loved being used like this, even as it humiliated him. He loved the feeling of Torres’s power over him, the way Torres took what he wanted without asking.

Torres pulled his dick out of Milo’s mouth and climbed off him. Milo lay there, panting and dizzy, feeling almost drugged by how intoxicating this was. Torres ordered him to roll over, and Milo obeyed without hesitation, pushing his boxers down and kicking them away. He was excited, eager for Torres to finally use him. He heard the sound of Torres squeezing lube into his hand and felt Torres’s fingers slip between his ass cheeks. He spread his legs, quivering and eager.

Milo groaned with pleasure as Torres began to finger him. He loved the feeling of Torres’s fingers inside him, the way Torres stretched him open. Torres shushed him again, and Milo bit his lip to keep from making any noise. He didn’t want to attract attention, didn’t want anyone to know what was happening in the cell. He just wanted to focus on the feeling of Torres’s fingers inside him, the way Torres was preparing him for what was to come.

Torres’s fingers felt so good, so slick and warm. Milo arched his back, pushing himself back onto Torres’s hand. He wanted more, wanted Torres to fuck him harder. He could feel Torres’s breath on the back of his neck, could hear the low growl of Torres’s voice as he growled dirty things in Milo’s ear. Milo shuddered with pleasure, his body trembling with anticipation. He was ready for Torres to take him, ready to give himself over to Torres completely.

Milo moaned into the pillow as Torres’s fingers worked his asshole, reminded of that time in the shower. He could still feel the hot water cascading down his body, the steam fogging up the small space as Torres’s fingers explored him. He’d been so nervous, so unsure, but the pleasure had been undeniable.

Now, as Torres’s fingers slid in and out of him, Milo felt a different kind of nervousness. He was more than ready for this, more than willing to give himself over to Torres completely. He could feel the strength in Torres”s fingers as they stretched him open. He moaned louder, unable to contain the pleasure that was building inside of him.

Torres chuckled against his ear, the sound sending shivers down Milo’s spine. “You’re such a hungry little puta,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “You can’t help but beg for it, can you?”

Milo whimpered, mortified by Torres’s words but unable to deny their truth. He could feel his body betraying him, his hips rocking back to meet Torres’s fingers, his thighs opening wider to give Torres better access. He wanted this, wanted Torres to fuck him, to take him completely.

He felt Torres’s fingers slide out of him, and then the hot, wide head of Torres’s cock pressed up against his asshole.

Torres murmured, “You get a condom, princesa?”

Milo tensed, suddenly realizing that Torres was going to have to fuck him bare. He’d never done that before, never let anyone fuck him without a condom. “No,” he said, his voice shaking.

Torres hummed, sliding his cock along the crack of Milo’s ass. “You still want to do this?”

Oh god. The thought of it was overwhelming. His gut swooped alarmingly, but then he breathed out. “Yes.”

The rough roll of Torres’s chuckle made his nerves tingle. “Oh, yeah? You want my come in you? Say it.”

Milo pressed his face into the pillow, his heart hammering. But Torres wasn’t going to move until he said it, so he forced the words out of his mouth. “Please come in me. Sir.”

The sound Torres let out was like a growl, something animalistic and involuntary. Then he felt Torres’s slick cock pressing into him, and he had to breathe, relaxing to accept him.

Oh, the stretch was unbearable. Milo made a high, needy sound, and Torres shushed him. But God, it burned.

Once he was past the first ring, Torres slid into him with short, sharp thrusts, each one sending a jolt of pleasure through Milo’s body. He keened needily, unable to contain the sounds that were escaping his lips. He could feel the ache and stretch as Torres filled him up, and it felt more profound than it ever had before, like something unexplored and new.

As Torres started to fuck him, Milo felt heat building inside of him, a fire that threatened to consume him completely. He rocked his hips up to meet Torres’s thrusts, desperate for more, desperate for the release that he knew was coming.

Torres’s breath was hot on his skin, his voice low and urgent in Milo’s ear. “You like that, princesa? You like the way I’m fucking you?”

Milo could only moan in response, his body too overwhelmed by the pleasure to form coherent words. He could feel Torres’s fingers digging into his hips, the way Torres’s body moved against his, the way Torres’s cock filled him up completely. He was lost in the sensation, lost in the feeling of Torres’s body against his.

He could feel the tension building inside of him, the pressure that was threatening to explode.

Milo’s body was on fire, every nerve ending electrified as Torres fucked into him. He could feel the pressure building in his balls, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in his belly. He was going to come, he wasn’t going to be able to help himself.

Milo bit his lip, trying to hold back the moans that threatened to spill out of him. He didn’t want to attract attention, didn’t want anyone to know what was happening in the cell. But it was getting harder and harder to stay quiet.

Torres’s hips slammed into him, the force of his thrusts pushing Milo up the bunk. He could feel Torres’s cock hitting him deep inside, the sensation almost too much to bear. He was going to come, he could feel it.

And then it happened. Milo’s orgasm hit him like a tsunami, his body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure washed over him. He buried his face in the pillow, muffling his cries as he came harder than he ever had in his life.

He could feel Torres’s hips stutter, and then Torres sank deep into his body, coming inside him with hard, hot pulses. Milo moaned into the pillow, feeling dirtier and more used than he ever had in his life.

Torres had come but he didn’t pull out of Milo’s body. Instead, Milo felt Torres still inside him, his cock still pulsing gently. It felt so close, like Torres’s heart was beating in him, in time with his own.

For the briefest moment, Milo thought he felt the brush of a kiss on his naked shoulder.

Milo closed his eyes, trying to ignore the voice in his head that told him he was a disgusting, filthy little bitch. He didn’t care. He was Torres’s putita. He had something here that he had never found before, something that made him feel alive.

And he knew that he would do anything to feel it again.