Page 102 of Convict's Game
He tilted his head and regarded my face, spotting the challenge in my eyes. “My apology is for the part you foundwrong. The lie by omission about your family member who I won’t name as there’s no one in this bedroom but us. For that, I’m sorry. Also for listening in on your conversation with him when you were in the office. I know with both those things, I crossed a line, even if protecting you didn’t feel like a mistake.”
God, he was such a jerk.
The handle bottomed out, only the sharp edge sticking out of me. Convict fucked me slowly with it, rapture in his eyes. All I knew was the dangerous thrill it generated. Not the same as his dick, but any relief was welcome.
When I rolled my hips to take another thrust, he pulled it out of me, the finger leaving my ass, too. I whimpered around the gag, a tear leaking from my eye with how badly I needed to come. But then his dick filled me, and his body pressed down on mine.
Convict speared me open. I could’ve cried with how my relief flowed. He filled me so perfectly, and it felt so good to finally get what I craved. What I needed.
He tapped my ass cheek then reached for my restrained arms. With a click, the cuffs fell away. I clutched on to him hard, trembling, desperate.
“I shot a tracker into you. Not sorry for that either, but you should know. No one can ever take you from me. I’ll always find you. Always.”
I barely cared, so caught up on his increasing tempo, but also on the powerful sense of completeness that stole through me. Cassie and the girls had implied as much, and I loved it. I wanted him so gone for me, so unhinged he went to extremes.
He fucked me harder, driving me into the bed and kindling the heat inside me into an inferno. I burned for him. A white-hot blaze.
“Do you want to come, Mila?”
He tugged the gag from between my teeth.
“Yes,” I cried.
“Then give me what I need. Give me that forgiveness for everything from this night and before. I don’t care how fucking twisted it is to take it from you like this.”
I didn’t care either. “Don’t lie to me again.”
“Okay.”
“Forgiven.”
He shuddered in obvious relief. “Lastly, I’m sorry if this hurts.”
My orgasm crested, and I cried out. A shallow slice of pain registered in my arm, but it was barely a blip on my overwhelming rush of pleasure and happiness. My body sang, pure satisfaction rolling through me until my legs shook.
Thank God. Thank all the angels and devils and whatever gave him his power over my body. I lost myself to the stunning climax, my ecstasy extending when I clamped down on him enough that he thickened and came for a third time.
His laugh pulled me from the depths of my stupor. With bloodied fingers, he daubed red onto his cheeks then held up a small plastic stick.
My contraceptive.
“I’m so fucking in love with you.”
We alternated fucking and sleeping hard in a mess of sweat, blood, cum, and scattered pillows. Convict was relentless in his need to be inside me, and when he slowed, I took over.
I loved the frenzy. I didn’t feel the pain.
Not until late morning when I woke with him sleeping on my belly, one hand still on my breast.
Impossibly, I still felt needy.
Probably due to the fact the asshole had sliced my arm and removed my contraceptive. The cut was shallower than the one delivered by Esther’s mother, and he’d patched me up with antiseptic and a bandage. I was insane for finding it the hottest experience of my life.
The cold light of day was always my friend.
I held my arm up and twisted it to regard the two beige strips. Then I reached for my phone. Ignoring all the notifications, I searched for an appointment slot at my doctor’s office, finding one for late afternoon. One tap and it was mine.
Convict shifted in his sleep and blindly groped for my breast, fitting his mouth to my nipple. He stroked me with his tongue and sucked. Done with my task, I dropped the phone and threaded my fingers into his hair, arching my shoulders to push into his mouth and enjoying the zing of pleasure.
