The Prison Project

Chapter 62 – All Of Him

Margot’s POV

I couldn’t breathe. Not properly. Not the way I was supposed to. My lungs felt tight and traitorous in my chest, just like the ache that had bloomed low in my stomach and was now spreading like wildfire through the rest of me.

I stared at the bathroom door, lips parted, still tasting him on my mouth. Still feeling the echo of his hands on my body.

His voice – low, gravelly, dangerous – rattled through my bones like an earthquake that didn’t quite settle.

He was in there. Naked. Under the water. Doing hell knows what to ‘cool off’.

And I… I was out here, flushed and trembling like a girl who’d just been handed her deepest secret on a silver platter.

Because what just happened wasn’t just a kiss. It was something else entirely.

I could feel the want still fluttering between my thighs, an unfamiliar pulse that had started the second he touched me and refused to go away. I pressed my legs together, trying to will it into submission, but it only made things worse.

My whole body was awake. Coban had woken it for the first time.

What the hell was that? What did he do to me?

Was this… part of his strategy? Was this his game – make me feel seen, protected, wanted… just long enough to mess with my head? To bend me into doing whatever it takes to help him win his freedom in this?

Because if that was the case, it was so far working. Too well to say the least.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my heart thudding in my ears, skin still buzzing where his lips had been. My brain was trying to make sense of it – of the soft way he’d brushed my lip with his thumb, the way he had pulled away when I clearly wasn’t ready for more, even when every muscle in his body screamed to keep going.

It wasn’t just lust in his eyes. It was torment. Longing. Control slipping, unraveling in real time.

And somehow, that scared me more than his threats ever had.

Because I wasn’t just scared of Coban anymore… I was scared of what I felt for him. Of how I melted under his touch. How I didn’t want him to stop. Of how ridiculously attractive I found him.

What did that say about me?

That I could go from terrified to breathless in the span of a few heated seconds? That I could forget every reason I came here just because of the way his mouth fit against mine like it was made for me?

Maybe I wasn’t so different to the rest of those foolish girls after all…

God.

He’d said it himself many times – I was a virgin. I’d never done this before. Never kissed like that. Never wanted someone like this. I wasn’t supposed to feel like this in a prison cell. I wasn’t supposed to want my dangerous, tattooed inmate of a roommate to kiss me harder. To do more than that…

And yet… here I was. Sighing into the silence like a lovesick idiot.

Because no matter how I tried to rationalise it, the truth wouldn’t shut up in my head:

That kiss had meant something. Maybe to both of us.

Or maybe I was just a girl caught up in the fantasy of it all. Caught in the whirlpool of his strength, his mystery, his burning stare that made my knees wobble when it landed on me.

A sound snapped me out of my spiral – the sharp, metallic clank of the water shutting off.

My stomach flipped.

Coban was done.

I stood suddenly, unsure what to do with myself. I didn’t know if I was supposed to sit and wait for him, lie on the bed, pretend to be asleep? My pulse thundered against my ribs as I hovered, listening to the rustling inside the bathroom.

I barely had a second to think before the handle dipped and the door creaked open.

Then-

“Shit! Coban!” I shrieked, spinning on my heel and slapping both palms over my face as if I could unsee what I had just witnessed.

But the image was burned in to my mind forever.

All of him. Every damn glorious, monstrous inch of him.

I’d never seen a man naked in real life before – not like that. And certainly not that much man.

–

“Christ!” I gasped behind my hands, burning from head to toe.

Behind me, his deep, wicked laugh filled the room, rich and low and full of unholy amusement.

“Towel wasn’t in there,” he said, completely unfazed. “Forgot we did the laundry. Calm down, Bella. If you didn’t already scream ‘virgin’ before, then you definitely do now.” He chuckled.

I groaned, humiliated, refusing to lower my hands. My eyelids were burning for how long they’d stared – even if it had only been seconds.

“Alright, alright,” he said with a chuckle. “You can look now.”

I peeked through my fingers, hesitating before lowering them fully.

He had a towel wrapped low around his waist now, but that didn’t help much. Because everything above the towel was just as criminal.

His chest was a wall of muscle, hard and inked and glistening from the shower. Water droplets slid down the ridges of his abs like they were following a damn roadmap of sin. His tattoos, dark and sprawling, twisted with every flex of his arms.

He was a goddamn walking temptation.

I stared too long. I knew I did.

And the worst part? He knew it too.

“I managed to cool off in there,” he said, cocky and casual, “but it looks like you’re still running hot, Bella… don’t drool now.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, my voice an octave higher than usual. “I… I don’t know what happened back there.”

But I did. I just didn’t want to say it out loud.

I wanted him.

He smirked again, and it did unspeakable things to my insides.

“Go on,” he said, jerking his head toward the wardrobe. “Go get cleaned up before lights out.”

I all but ran for it, snatching a towel, fresh underwear, and the soft shorts and tee I’d planned to sleep in. I didn’t even wait to respond – I just needed to escape. I needed space. Air. Distance.

Because if I stood in that room with him for another minute, I wasn’t sure what I’d do.

And I didn’t trust myself not to beg him to kiss me again.

Not when I already knew I’d say yes. To anything.

His eyes trailed me the whole way to the bathroom, dark and unreadable, but full of something that made my entire body clench in response.

He had me wrapped around his finger, and he knew it.

But the most dangerous part of all?

I didn’t want to escape it. I wanted to feel it.

Again and again.

And that scared me the most.

Because this wasn’t just about prison survival. This was about surviving him.