All Chapters of All Yours: Short Romantic Stories: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Smoke rolled thick down the tier. Someone had lit a mattress on fire two cells over and the smell of burning foam mixed with the reek of sweat and fear. Guards were yelling from the far end. Inmates were already dragging mattresses and tables into the corridor, building a rough barricade. Rocco didn’t look back. He just kept walking like he owned the whole fucking wing. The kid stayed right between Lou and Vito, bare feet sticking to the concrete every few steps where someone had bled or pissed. Cum still leaked down the inside of his thighs. His hole felt loose and sore, every step making it pulse. His throat was raw from the face-fucking. Nobody offered him pants. Nobody cared. A skinny kid from C-block tried to push past Rocco. Rocco grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into the bars hard enough that teeth clicked. “Move the wrong way and I’ll snap your fucking neck,” he said, calm as talking about the weather. The guy scrambled off, coughing blood. Vito kept a hand on the b

The loading dock smelled like diesel and old garbage. The big metal roll-up doors were half open, smoke drifting in from the yard side. Outside, the fence line was chaos—inmates climbing, guards firing warning shots into the air, the distant wail of sirens getting closer. Rocco didn’t slow down. He shoved the kid forward into the open bay and pointed at a stack of wooden pallets near the far wall. “Behind those. Now.” The kid stumbled over, bare feet scraping on the concrete. Cum still leaked down the insides of his thighs with every step. His hole felt soft and open, the rim tender from the double fucking in the kitchen. Lou and Vito boxed him in again as soon as they reached the pallets. Rocco scanned the yard through the open door, then turned back. “On your knees.” The kid dropped. The concrete was cold and grit stuck to his skin. Rocco already had his cock out, half-hard from the earlier round. He stepped in close and pushed the head against the kid’s lips. “Keep us ready. We

A Quick Engagement Check ❣️✨Hello, lovely readers! ❣️✨ Your writer here 👋👋The purpose of this chapter is simply to conduct a quick engagement check and see who is still following along at this point in the story.I’ll be doing this from time to time throughout the book to keep track of our active readership and see how many of you are still here with me. ❤️If you’re still reading, please leave a like below so I can get an idea of how many of us are still on this journey together. ❣️❣️Thank you so much for your continued support! 😊❤️

My suitcase hit the hardwood with a dull thud. The apartment smelled like new furniture and my mother’s perfume, thick and sweet. I hadn’t even unpacked my laptop yet when the front door opened again.He walked in like he owned the place. Tall, broad through the shoulders, dark hair going a little silver at the temples. Dress shirt rolled to the elbows, tie already loosened. The kind of man who looked like he spent more time grading papers than smiling.“Mia.” My mother’s voice was bright, nervous. “This is Alex. Alexander Kane. My… husband.”I stared. The name landed wrong. I’d heard it twice already that week—once from the department secretary, once from the girl in the front row who whispered that Professor Kane was a hard-ass who didn’t smile and made seniors cry over thesis statements.My new stepfather was the same man who was going to stand in front of my Creative Writing seminar on Monday and tear my work apart.Alex’s eyes moved over me once, slow. Not the polite once-over of

My mother was home by the time I got back. She kissed my cheek, asked about class, poured wine. I sat at the table with Alex across from me and felt his cum still sticky between my thighs under the short skirt. Every time I shifted, it pulled at the dried mess on my skin. He never looked at me once. Just cut his food and answered my mother’s questions in that calm, measured voice like he hadn’t fucked me raw on his desk three hours earlier. I went to my room after dinner and left the door cracked. I heard them talking low in the living room, then the sound of their bedroom door closing. The apartment went quiet. I waited twenty minutes. Then I got up, still in the same skirt and blouse, and walked down the hall. His study light was on. I pushed the door open without knocking. Alex sat behind the desk in the same shirt from earlier, sleeves rolled, glasses on. A half-empty glass of whiskey sat next to a stack of papers. He looked up slowly. “Close it.” I did. Locked it this time