Heat flooded Elias’s face, a dangerous mix of shame and arousal that made his pulse thunder in his ears. He took one involuntary step closer, boots scraping against the walkway. “Keep running that mouth and I’ll make sure your next transfer is to a supermax where they weld your lips shut for a year.”

Zion didn’t flinch. If anything, his pale eyes darkened with amusement and something far more dangerous—hunger. “You won’t. Because deep down you like hearing me talk. You like imagining exactly what else this mouth can do when it’s not throwing insults.” His voice dropped to a husky whisper that somehow cut through the heavy silence of...