Page 114 of Convict's Game
He hissed and tugged me around to the front to claim my lips. I let him, just once, then pulled back and continued my task. I took my time over getting it right, and dusting the loose hair away so it didn’t tickle his skin.
It was a journey of discovery, of sorts. I was seeing him differently. Not just as the lost boy who’d made me a deal, but as more. More than thirty days. More than temporary in my life.
When I came around the front, his gaze filled with hunger and longing. “On my lap. I’ll hold you. Just let me warm my dick inside you.”
Heat surged in me.
My hesitation condemned me. Convict seized the chance and ran his hands under my skirt to wrangle my underwear off me in a move than had me gasping. Then his jeans were wrenched down, and he picked me up, settling me over his lap.
He pushed inside me in slow, torturous inches. “So wet for me. Your cunt is my happy place, know that? You feel so good.”
My heart pounded. I draped against him, my eyes closed and the scissors held at bay. I tightened my legs around his waist, the way he filled me lighting up pleasure centres that stole my thoughts.
Yet he didn’t take it further.
“Just keep trimming. I’ll stay right here, balls-deep in my emotional support girlfriend.”
“You expect me to work like this?”
“Come on, businesswoman of the year. Let’s see you handle a hostile takeover.”
The haircut was close to being finished, but continuing while being filled with his considerable length took every ounce of presence I could summon. Yet he’d made it a challenge, and I could leave him a mess.
Opening my eyes, I fought through the lust and continued cutting.
Minutes passed, and my heart calmed, my focus returning to me. I liked simply warming his cock. There was an intimacy to it I hadn’t anticipated. Far from the frantic, clawing sex that was more of our norm.
When I was done, I traced my fingertip over the pale scar that led back from his temple. It was the visible reminder of his amnesia which had mostly been hidden beneath the longer strands. That scar worried me, more than I let on.
One of his hands cupped my ass while the other flirted with the hem of my thin, strappy top. “What is it?”
“What if one day you remember something about your old life that changes you?”
He shrugged a bulky shoulder. “Pretty sure I know all the important things. Anything else is just background detail.”
“What if you had a girlfriend?”
“I didn’t. Kind of love the direction of your concerns, though. Keep going on your trip down insecure alley.”
I scowled and tried to lift off him, but he grabbed my thigh and held me down. Inside me, his cock throbbed. Heat flared in his expression.
“You’re worried about me falling out of love with you.”
I made an off sound, pretending to focus on his hair again, though I’d already set down the scissors. “You are not in love with me.”
He tipped my head down to link his gaze to mine. Nothing but sincerity shone in his dark eyes. “After coming out of hospital, there were very few things I could be certain of, but from first sight, I knew you.”
He took my hand and placed it on his chest so I could feel the fast beat.
“My heart was yours from that moment. No hesitation, no doubt. Remember how sure I was that we’d met?”
I slowly inclined my head.
“Nothing from my old life could ever change that connection. I’ve been regaining memories every day, but this thing? It’s only getting deeper.”
I kissed him. Not hard or fast but the kind of kiss that held meaning, because everything he’d said had shaken me up and settled me down exactly as I’d needed.
In the midst of chaos, he was the one person I could rely on. The eye in my storm.
