Page 64 of Convict's Game
With my fingertips to the centre of his chest, I drove them upwards, through his dusting of dark chest hair and to his throat.
His voice came out rough. “Need me to talk you through this?”
“No. Tell me what you did in the night.”
He adjusted his position on the bed, his dick bobbing. “Favourite new subject. First, I just let myself look at you. Then I played with your tits and sucked your nipples, scoring points for not waking you.”
Sitting back on my heels, I squeezed my nipple and tugged on it, a flash of pleasure echoing through my body. I did the same with the other side so I played with both in tandem.
“I knew I wanted to fuck you, but that would wake you up and I’d lose the game. So I turned you over to give me a better angle on your pussy.” He exhaled. It became a groan. “I could’ve done so much to you. I wish I’d tasted you, but the need to come took over me once I saw your ass.”
My heart thumped harder. I travelled my fingers down my body to pass over my centre. I was soaked.
“Open your mouth,” I told him.
His lips parted, and I pressed my slick fingers to his tongue.
Convict sucked me clean and groaned again. “Holy fuck, sweetheart.”
This was oddly empowering.
If I was braver, I’d ask to ride his face, but for now, it was enough that I was leading this. Kind of.
I braced myself on his chest and threw my leg over him, settling onto his lap. Instantly, he adjusted his position to support me. Then I rose and fitted him to my entrance and sank down fast so I didn’t lose my nerve.
Convict’s groan answered my silent one, my lust peaking at how thick he was. Too thick to take in one go. I eased up and down him several times until I was fully seated, then held still, lost in the sensation of being so full. I wriggled, adjusting. No,marvelling.
I liked it far too much. It was an addiction I’d never worried about succumbing to because I’d never known this kind of perfect fit was a possibility.
“Move, baby,” the gangster urged.
“Hush. Dildos don’t talk.”
I slid up and down him, my breathing shuddering and pleasure spilling out through me. When I circled my hips, his thick length lit up more places inside than I knew I had. At last, my brain shut off. In general in life, I overthought everything. Every decision. This was pure instinct.
With my palms flat to his chest, I rose and fell and worked myself on his dick. Tight heat pooled deep and low in my body, building up with every pass. It was electrifying, riding Convict. Not only from my feelings but by his sounds of pleasure.
This would take no time at all. If anything, I had to slow down to tease myself and build it up more so I didn’t finish too soon.
My fingertip snagged on a line on his chest. No, multiple. A scar? They were under a tattoo so I couldn’t be sure, and I lost the pace in my fever to fuck him.
It returned quickly.
I peeked up at his face. With his jaw clenched, Convict had locked his muscles tight, his biceps bulging with how hard he held himself. I didn’t know if he was trying to stay quiet or to stop himself from coming, but that image shattered my resolve. I reached for my clit, enraptured with him.
One pass, two. I arched my back and played with myself, getting faster and closer. Then I was falling and crashing into pleasure so intense, I cried out and slumped forward, clamping down on Convict’s dick with each pulse of my climax.
Under me, he gasped out, so tense, and the moment I stopped moving, he took over. He bucked into me, driving his heels into the bed to fuck me half a dozen more times until he too stilled. Inside me, he came.
A laugh flew from my lips, made of relief and new pleasure from the way he thickened even more.
I propped up on his chest, breathing hard as I cooled. “Bad little dildo. You weren’t supposed to come.”
“As if I could stop it. You have no idea how incredible that was. And less of the little, thanks. I’m the XL edition, and you know it.”
My lips curved. I pushed up the blindfold so I could see his eyes. They trained on me.
“Kiss me,” he begged.
