Anan’s POV

…

 

Three days.

 

Three long days since Jones walked out of the corridor with my pearl in his gut and the taste of me still on him. The worst of the fever had burned down, but the hunger never left. It sat under my skin like a low coal, waiting for a quiet hour to flare back up.

 

I was alone in the cell. No boots in the hall. No voices. Just the slow drip of water somewhere in the stone and the sound of my own breathing.

 

My cock was already half hard from nothing more than the quiet. I sat on the edge of the thin...