The Prison (Book 1)

Show Me Where They Touched You

IT'S HERE; WHAT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR!

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Show Me Where They Touched You

The last of my molesters limped out of the shower room, leaving behind a trail of torn clothing and smudges and droplets of blood. It hadn't been much of a fight. It had been a one-sided massacre.

I felt dirty. I felt defiled.

I wanted to puke.

I was going to puke.

A large hand enclosed around my wrist and I jumped. Electric blue eyes collided with my own.

He pushed me all the way into a stall.

"Not you, too!" I cried out in desperation. I had only just experienced the wave of relief.

Cold water hit my skin and I yelped, startled anew. I tried to step out of the waterfall the showerhead created but Schneizel pushed me back into it forcefully, my back slamming into the knob. I winced.

"Stay." His dark tone brooked no argument. Seeing his eyes flash the way they did, I did as I was ordered. He had made it all too clear what he wanted of me and I was the one standing naked and wet. Yet I couldn't bring myself to scream and protest and fight as I had with those hooligans. It had to be the exhaustion weighing down on me.

My heart pounded loudly in my chest and I feared he could hear it. Good God, was I trembling?!

Schneizel reached for my bar of soap.

No one would dare attack Schneizel if he bent down to pick up a bar of freaking soap, even if he had fucking arrows pointing to his asshole, I thought miserably and enviously.

I watched the King generously lather some soap on both his hands, and then he dropped the soap to the ground again.

My heart skipped a beat.

"Tell me where they touched you," he commanded.

"W-What?" I was dumbfounded. Just what exactly did he have in mind?

Schneizel's eyes narrowed. I gulped and pressed myself into the wall, the knob drilling into the small of my back once more.

"H-Hold on! You're not...! You wouldn't-! You can't-! Stop! No! Stop!"

He laid one hand against my chest, holding me in place, while the other started roaming my body, slipping into every crevice, lathering soap over every nook and cranny.

I was horrified.

I was mortified.

I didn't do a thing to stop him.

I was too exhausted to resist someone who could overpower and kick the ass of three grown men -criminals no less.

He washed me thoroughly and diligently, as if scrubbing away the very scent of those men from my person. He washed me gently, so gently it could almost be called caressing, his hand careful and soft, probing and curious. Next, he washed my cock. My whole body went rigid when his hand circled the swollen shaft, the tip an angry red color. I tried to utter a word of protest, to muster some sound at least, but all that came out was a broken gasp.

He looked into my eyes. Pierced right through them to peer into my very heart. Could he perhaps see what lay beneath? Decipher the tremulous feelings brewing inside me like a raging thunderstorm? Sense my doubt? My wariness? My fear of him? Most importantly, could he sense the anticipation?

I suddenly found myself thinking that he had the most beautiful pair of blue-violet eyes I had ever seen. How easily these captivating eyes turned a frightening murky black the moment he was crossed.

I shut my eyes, for I could no longer stand his piercing gaze, yet I could still see them burned into my eyelids. Schneizel's hand started stroking my cock and the nastiest, most erotic of squishy sounds drifted to my ears. The way his hand moved expertly up and down the hard rod, and the way he applied pressure at bulging veins causing tiny flashes to erupt in my mind was too much to bear. He seemed to always touch me in all the right places as if he knew the parts of me that made me tick.

He abruptly stopped.

My eyes fluttered open. I squashed the disappointed groan that nearly escaped me.

Schneizel grabbed my wrist in a firm grip and proceeded to drag me behind him out of the stall toward the shower room's door. He suddenly halted and I nearly walked into his back. He quickly looked over his shoulder at me with furrowed brows. He gave me a once-over, his eyes momentarily resting on my boner, dropped his grip on my wrist, and then turned back around to retrieve my towel. He shoved it at me in a silent command to cover myself and I absentmindedly did as he wanted, wrapping the towel securely around my waist. In truth, I was relieved and thankful to be able to hide my raging dick from sight.

This time when he dragged me out of the shower room, it was my hand he took and not my wrist.

It took us less than two minutes to reach our cell. Schneizel was in such a hurry that I had to nearly skip to keep up with his long strides. The moment we were inside, he raised a fist into the air and the cell door slammed shut behind him.

My breathing was erratic from the journey –or so I tried to convince myself. My cock visibly twitched beneath the towel. I bit my tongue in reproach, for Schneizel had seen my unruly reaction and he was now smirking.

"Drop the towel." Came the curt command.

"N-No!"

"Aiden." Schneizel warned in a tone that brooked no argument.

When I made no move to do as he asked, he took matters in his own hand. The towel was suddenly gone and I was once again exposed. It had happened so quickly that my mind did not register it fast enough, and so the command my brain issued to escape came too late.

Schneizel's lips crashed into my own. He swallowed my scream in the brutal kiss as he molded our lips together. His hands gripped my neck, holding my head in place for him to devour thoroughly me. Needless to say, no amount of struggling amounted to anything, for Schneizel was truly something else in terms of raw physical strength. On top of this, I already lacked the use and strength of one arm. I was truly and utterly helpless to stop his assault.

I didn't even realize I was being pushed backwards until I fell on my bunker. Our lips had been interlocked up until then; I swallowed air into my burning lungs the moment they were free. I could already feel my lips swelling, so bruised they were.

Without speaking, Schneizel came on top of me, pressing me into the mattress of the bunker. He leaned in. His long tongue flicked out at my earlobe and I gasped at the array of sensations this small gesture unleashed upon me.

No doubt sensing my response, Schneizel chuckled directly next into my ear. It was an unnerving, knowing chuckle, a deep and rather erotic sound that both tickled and warmed. I involuntarily shivered. Goosebumps paraded across my arms and marched down my legs. A zap akin to an electric shock shot down straight to my already rock-hard member.

I realized what the hell was happening to me –and how disgracefully I was reacting to Schneizel like a wanton—with a jolt.

I was mortified.

With all my strength, I shoved at Schneizel.