Chapter 8
SurrenderGraves’ POVThe cell was already hot before I stepped inside, the concrete walls holding onto the heat of the day like they’d been waiting for me.And maybe they had.Because everything in this prison bent when I wanted it to. Schedules, transfers, men, even rules. And tonight, so would Keaton.He was sitting on the edge of the cot, his wrists loose in his lap, but his spine stiff with that defiant streak that made me want to grind him down until there was nothing left but obedience. He’d tried not to flinch when the door scraped shut behind me, but I saw the shift of his shoulders. His instincts were good—he knew the real danger wasn’t the lock on the outside, it was me on the inside.“You’ve been moved twice this week.” My voice came out low, casual. Like we weren’t both aware that I was the one pulling those strings. “Solitary suits you.”His hazel eyes snapped up, sharp as broken glass. “Suits you, maybe. You like your toys whChapter OneIn Session The office didn’t look like what Daniel expected. He thought a sex therapist’s space would be plastered with tacky diagrams of anatomy, maybe some shelves stacked with dildos or glossy magazines. Instead, Dr. Grant Lawson’s office was sleek, modern, disturbingly calm. Dark wood panels, a single tall bookshelf, and a leather chair behind a minimalist desk. The air smelled faintly of sandalwood and something sharper, like clean steel.Daniel leaned against the doorframe, chewing the inside of his cheek. “This is it? No sex toys on display? I thought I’d at least get a condom goodie bag for showing up.”Dr. Lawson looked up from his notes, unbothered. Mid-thirties, maybe late. Square jaw, neatly trimmed beard, a man who probably ironed his shirts himself and never once spilled coffee on them. His glasses caught the light as he gestured to the couch opposite his chair. “Sit down, Daniel.”The tone wasn’t harsh. But it left no room for refusal.Daniel smirked. He ha
Chapter 8Surrender Graves’ POVThe cell was already hot before I stepped inside, the concrete walls holding onto the heat of the day like they’d been waiting for me.And maybe they had.Because everything in this prison bent when I wanted it to. Schedules, transfers, men, even rules. And tonight, so would Keaton.He was sitting on the edge of the cot, his wrists loose in his lap, but his spine stiff with that defiant streak that made me want to grind him down until there was nothing left but obedience. He’d tried not to flinch when the door scraped shut behind me, but I saw the shift of his shoulders. His instincts were good—he knew the real danger wasn’t the lock on the outside, it was me on the inside.“You’ve been moved twice this week.” My voice came out low, casual. Like we weren’t both aware that I was the one pulling those strings. “Solitary suits you.”His hazel eyes snapped up, sharp as broken glass. “Suits you, maybe. You like your toys wh
Chapter 7 MineKeaton’s POVThat voice—low, deep, deliberate—still vibrated through me.“Did you really think I wouldn’t follow you here?”My blood iced. I wanted to scoff, to laugh, to scream. He had me brought here, I know he did but he’s acting like I did something to get myself in here and away from him.“Graves.” My voice scraped raw in my throat. “What the fuck are you doing here?”I expected silence, maybe even the smug twist of his lips in the dark. What I got instead was the click of the door sealing shut behind him. My stomach plummeted.The isolation cell was supposed to be empty, a punishment. Nobody came here except guards delivering food trays twice a day. But of course Graves would bend rules, bribe whoever he had to, pull strings I didn’t even know existed. Of course he’d make sure no door was ever truly closed between us.“You looked better in chains,” he said quietly, almost fondly.The words made me jolt, like he’d touched me already. My wrists weren’t cuffed, but
Chapter 6The Cage InsideKeaton’s POVI woke to the clang of keys and the scrape of boots. The air in the cell still stank of sweat and rust, but something in the rhythm of those footsteps made my stomach drop. This wasn’t the usual shift change.“Rhoades.”The guard’s voice was clipped, businesslike. No drawl, no smug tone, just the flat authority of someone following orders. He didn’t tell me why he was here, didn’t bother with the usual taunts. Just unlocked the door and jerked his chin.“On your feet. Transfer.”Transfer. The word landed like a punch to the gut. Transfers didn’t happen in the middle of the night unless something was wrong.I sat up slowly, eyes narrowing. “To where?”The guard didn’t answer. He stepped aside, two others flanking the door. All stone-faced, all avoiding my eyes. That silence said more than words ever could.Something in my chest twisted.I shoved my feet into my shoes and stood, shackles clinking as they fastened them around my wrists and ankles. T
Chapter 5 The Warden’s ObsessionGraves’ POVThe prison was never quiet.Even at night, when the cells were locked and the convicts forced into restless slumber, the air still buzzed. The hum of the generators, the metallic creak of pipes expanding against the cold, the occasional distant yell from a dream-ridden inmate who forgot where he was. I knew every sound of it. I had ruled this fortress long enough to read its language. The prison was my heart, my lungs and bones.And yet—tonight—its rhythm felt broken.I sat behind my desk, coat unbuttoned, collar loosened, my hands braced on the arms of my chair. The lamp to my right cast an amber glow across a stack of reports, but the words blurred together. I wasn’t reading, my eyes were narrowed, fixed on nothing, my jaw tight.I could still smell him.Keaton.The taste of sweat, the sting of pain where nails raked, the sound of breathless curses caught between moans—every scrap of it clung to my memory like a smoke scent I couldn’t wa
Chapter 4 Brutal PossessionKeaton had lost track of time.Solitary made the hours bleed into each other, no light but the slit in the door, no sound but his own ragged breathing. He hated that in the silence, the memories came back sharper in his mind. Graves’ mouth on his, the bruising kiss that had left his lips tender, the way the warden’s hands had taken without hesitation.He pressed the back of his head to the cold wall, forcing himself to shove it down, but his body betrayed him. Every shift of his hips reminded him he was hard, strung tight and angry at his own hunger. He had always known how to starve himself of weakness. But Graves…Graves had ripped past his defenses and left him shaking.The rattle of keys scraped through the quiet.Keaton’s eyes snapped up. Slow footsteps echoed before the lock clicked, and the door swung inward.Graves filled the doorway, tall and broad, the tailored black of his uniform stretching across his shoulders. His presence swallowed the air i