Page 89 of Convict's Game

Mila

My clothes hangers rattled on my leaf through my wardrobe, and I plucked out a dress for the evening. Purple again, with a halterneck, silver studded gems around the neckline, and a floaty short skirt.

I paired it with silver heels then finished my makeup, my stomach tight when I glanced in the tall mirror that still gave me shivers. For the first time in over a week, Convict and I would be apart for hours.

I didn’t like it. No matter how I felt about him imprisoning my brother, not that Kane seemed to give a damn in his one-word answers to me since, but Convict didn’t get why that was an issue.

Kane was claustrophobic, one of the few things I knew about him that wasn’t easily seen. I’d guessed it after seeing how he always drove with the window open, even in the rain, and how he could never sit in a booth at a café. He saw it as a weakness, and I’d never reveal his secret, but I didn’t have to. Convict should never have ridden roughshod over my family.

Even with that hanging over us, I still couldn’t shake a strange sense of loss and apprehension.

I’d also received another shitty email.

Anonymous: All those boats sitting in the dock. What a legacy you left, Marchant. Fuck you for everything you’ve done.

Fuck the sender. Tonight, I had my own worries, and they were all shaped like a man I’d obsessed over.

Outside the bedroom, Convict leaned on the opposite wall in the hallway, the grey shirt I liked so much open at his throat and rolled up on his forearms. I stopped and stared, more than a little stuck on how badly I wanted him. Holding back had been an exercise in pain. Every night, he showed me what I was missing, spending hours between my thighs. He never resisted the pull. That was all me.

I let him fuck me and showed him nothing in return.

I didn’t recognise my stubbornness. I didn’t know how to stop it either.

Convict’s gaze travelled up my legs, heat in his eyes along with concern, urgency, and a dozen other emotions. That heavy focus sent a crackle of electricity over my skin, alerting me to the danger he presented.

We’d barely been apart in a week, and now he was leaving on a road trip for hours that suddenly felt like days.

I wanted him so badly I couldn’t breathe.

“Fuck it.” He shoved off the wall and caught me up in his arms. His mouth landed on mine in a bruising kiss.

I returned it. If he expected me to push away, both of us were failing.

We crashed into a hot and wet attack. Our teeth clashed, but we didn’t slow, only built and built into a fever. I wound my legs around his waist, and Convict turned me to the wall and reached between us, cupping me through my underwear.

He didn’t speak. No taunting me about how wet I was already. Nothing but a return of his mouth to mine and the opening of his jeans.

I tucked my head to his shoulder, needing this more than I could say. He freed his dick then pulled my lacy underwear aside and pushed inside.

I gasped open-mouthed.

Without any kind of foreplay besides the kiss, it burned where he stretched me open. It was like being back in the basement again, with the roughness and the spiking emotions, but that was where the similarities ended.

He held still. Supporting me one-handed, he used the other to wedge between us and tease my clit.

“I’m going to miss you tonight.” He spoke against my temple. “As much as I need to learn about myself, I’ll be thinking of you the whole time. Understand?”

His fingers kept moving until desire rushed in and the burn turned to pleasure.

He jacked his hips to fuck deeper into me, beginning a rhythm in time with the circles he made with his hand. Waves of delicious friction centred on where he touched me. In his arms, I rocked, chasing that need.

“You might not like me right now, but I’ll make it up to you. Give you what you need. Do whatever it takes. Feel how much I need it? How badly I want you to look at me again?”

Inside me, he thickened, thrilling multiple pleasure centres at once.

It boosted my scattered state to the stratosphere. Usually, he held back until the very last minute, ensuring I got mine repeatedly first. I was deep in lust with him being out of control.

I crushed him with my arms and legs, wanting nothing more than to keep him in place. Convict’s strokes sped up until he was hammering into me.