Chapter 17 Mila Convict lurched over me, capturing my wrist. My heart thumped, and my body loosened in a predator-prey surrender response. Except all he did was brush a kiss to my pulse point then boost himself to sit against the pillows beside me. "What are you doing?" I asked. "We've got a wait on our hands. I have ideas." My cheeks warmed. He grinned. "You took my virginity. Stop acting like you've never thought about my dick." "You are not inexperienced." He shrugged. "Actually, considering my amnesia, I'm technically a born-again virgin. Except for you, Mila, destroyer of my reset button." "You don't remember sex?" "Nope. Other than this evening. I know you want me as much as I want you. Admit it." My exhale came out shaky. "I confess I'm curious about how much I affect you. But you make me nervous." "You're scared of me? Same, same. But I have a solution. Here's me, shackled and shirtless, ready for your TED Talk. Or your thighs." sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNøvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. While I tripped up over the notion that the confident, impulsive gang member could ever get panicky over me, he tossed his shirt then stretched back to the headboard. A click followed, then a second. I gaped at him. "You handcuffed yourself to the bed?" He settled back, getting comfortable, all long body and bare, tattooed torso. Convict had so much ink work. I let my gaze wander from the snake around one wrist to a mixture of well-created pieces and rougher ones. Maybe prison tattoos, if movies had it right and that was a thing. His other forearm was still bandaged, but it was his tight stomach my gaze snagged on. The way his muscles flexed when he breathed. The obvious tent in his jeans. Oh God. The heat in my veins turned molten. I wanted to touch him, but that was terrifying. "Eyes up here, Emilia." I snapped my gaze to his face. He smirked at me. "I'm teasing. Look your fill. You can do whatever you want to me. That's why I chained myself up, so you wouldn't feel scared. I can't hide my body's reaction to you, though. I don't want to try." "Do you want me to... I mean, am I supposed to...?" "Up to you. Torment me. Fuck me. You haven't agreed to be mine yet, but I'm one hundred percent yours." That kind of power was dizzying. A low moan sounded through the wall, and I lifted my head, startled. Convict quirked an eyebrow. "This bedroom is on the cam girls' floor. You get used to the noises." "Cam girls? You mean they're filming themselves?" "For paying customers online, yes. Every kind of sex imaginable between consenting adults is sold in this building. Or given away." His information was slotting into place with the glimpses I'd had when we'd moved through the corridors. Downstairs, women in very skimpy outfits had joined in congratulating us. Sex workers, I imagined. I curled my lip. "I don't get it. Why do you want me when you could have sex with someone experienced?" "I don't want anyone else. I'd rather have the smallest touch from you than any other woman on my dick." I recoiled, hating that image. "Don't talk about other women on your dick." "Jealous?" At whatever expression had settled on my face, he added, "Because I am over you. From first sight, I've only wanted you, and the thought of you pairing off with some other asshole in the game was enough to make me psycho." A huff of breath left me. "You mean more psycho. And I'm not jealous. In fact, I was just thinking how I could walk out of this room now and you wouldn't be able to stop me." He blinked, and his gaze jumped to the door. "Shit. You won't." "But I could. Where's the key?" He bucked his hips. "In my pocket." I wanted that key. Lightly, I touched his waist. Convict groaned. His dick moved in his jeans, and I stared, fascinated, losing my train of thought. "How can you be so turned on by just being next to me?" "Easy. Have you seen you?" He closed his eyes and shaped a teasing grin on his lips. An idea came into mind, better even than snatching up the clothes he'd brought for me and walking out of here. I hadn't really meant that. I couldn't pretend I was only here because of his help. That would be a lie. From the first moment I'd seen Convict outside the window, I'd been all kinds of spellbound. I slithered off the bed so he couldn't see me. "Hey, where'd you go?" "I want your dick to go down so I can test something." His laugh was choked. "Not sure that's going to happen, sweetheart." I scowled. "You mean my voice does it for you as well?" "That, plus the image I have of you in my head." "What image?" "I have a series of favourites I'm currently running through. Your pretty eyes through the window. You asleep on the bed while I watched you on the cameras. My dick disappearing into your cunt." A moan escaped my lips. I liked his dirty words. I liked his more romantic ones, too. I knelt up to find his dick just as prominent as before. "Try thinking of something less sexy. Your grandma, perhaps." "Literally can't remember any relative." I sighed, because the one thing I wanted to do just couldn't happen. I wasn't forward with men. Certainly not ones I'd only known a week, and despite the strange circumstances I was in with Convict, I'd been raised a certain way. Those manners balanced on a precipice when it came to a more pressing issue. Exactly how much I wanted him. I'd never felt anything like it. Hesitantly, I returned to perch on the bed. "Do the couples who win the game really have sex all the time?" "Pretty sure they spare a moment to shower and eat. But probably the rest of the time. Put your hand on my chest." I obeyed. On my own, I couldn't do it. I was too conditioned to hold back. But Convict's instruction broke through that reserve. His skin was warm, and his light dusting of chest hair tickled my palm. He shifted under my touch. "Good girl. Now explore me. Take your time." I trailed down his belly. He let me play. His abs were solid, a rippling of muscle that was the opposite to my soft body. I got braver and touched his flat nipple. He shivered. "Draw your fingertips lower to my waistband." I did, running my fingertip under the material of his clothes. "Open my jeans, Mila." I held my breath but did it. "Take them off me. In my chains, I can't touch you, so you lead the show. This is on your timetable. My words are just there to guide you." I needed those words. They gave me the confidence to do what my body craved. Convict shifted to help me, and I stripped him of all but his boxer shorts, discarding his clothes to the floor. Another first. I'd never done that to a man before in my life. His thick thigh muscles clenched when I touched a tattoo of a skull on his calf. "Sit astride my legs. See how much harder I'll get for you." I'd half forgotten that I was meant to be testing him. "I'm naked under this shirt." "As if that fact could leave my brain. I'm craving your skin on mine." Carefully, I manoeuvred onto his thighs, my breathing coming faster at the contact of our bodies. Convict's lips curved into a wicked grin, and he lifted his knees so I slid onto his lap. I gasped. His dick was right underneath me, and the pulse of it hit between my legs. Need flooded my system, my insides readying for sex and my body yearning for this to go further. I braced myself on his chest. "No fair." "I never said I'd play fair. In fact, count this as a lesson. If you say yes to me, I'll do everything to keep you. I'll push every limit you have. You like my dark side. You want more." He bucked against me. I moaned without meaning to, and he made a similar sound of desire. "Put me inside you." "No!" "The problem is, beautiful, that we started something in the basement that we haven't finished. You're going to have to see it through or we'll both go insane." At my hesitation, he bucked again. "Ride me, woman. Or just use me as a tool and make yourself come. Finish what we started, and I promise you'll feel good. And you'll only want more." Damn his mouth. I rose up on my knees, putting space between our bodies. But all other thinking had left the room. Maybe it was the low light, or the sex noises still coming through the walls, but I made a choice. Climbing off him, I settled back on the bed and switched my gaze to his face. Convict's desperation bled into his features. "Just once, and we're not having sex," I breathed. "Whatever you say. Use me." I tugged down his shorts, revealing his hefty and very hard erection. I should've been terrified, but the shaking in my hands was purely from need. I climbed back on, keeping clear of his dick and a little in love with his tight muscles and desperate restraint, his biceps taut either side of his face with his arms stretched. "I've never done this." "Good. It's new for me, too. Tease me. Press your pussy down on me. Make yourself feel good. If the ache in you is anything like mine, you're dying for this." I inched forward until I made the contact I craved. His ultrahard dick notched to my entrance, overeager, but I shifted so I was against his shaft. Instant relief overwhelmed me. I'd been so tightly wound up. Convict made a strangled sound of pleasure. "You're so wet. Grind on me." With my hands to his chest, I rolled my hips, sliding along his length. God, that felt incredible, especially when the head of him nudged my clit. I repeated it, then again, trying another angle. Deep pleasure broke over me. He'd been right. I needed this so badly, it was almost painful. I focused on my pace, going slower then fast. It built me up higher, generating power until I panted. Yet Convict had gone quiet. He'd closed his eyes. I slowed. "Are you okay?" "Only terrified that you might stop. Keep going, I'm begging you. Think I might die if you don't." I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling too big. His words brought a startling thought. It wasn't just my own pleasure I was seeking. I wanted his as well. I wanted him frantic underneath me. Begging me. I ground on him again, so wet that I soaked his dick which made for an easier ride. This was wild. Sex had never been like this in the past. My other experiences had been led by the guy with my pleasure last on the priority list. My lost boy encouraged me, moving slowly with my touch. "Sweetheart, if this is a torture method, I confess to everything. Keep doing that. Right there. Fuuuuck." I needed more. I couldn't fuck him. Not fully. It was a step too far on a confusing evening, but I absolutely needed to come. I ran my hand under the shirt that covered me and touched my clit. Convict bucked, his chains clanking. There were no dirty words this time. Only an intense seeking of contact that I shared. I rubbed myself, my hips working and my thighs clamped around him. My fingertips grazed the end of his dick, and at his moan, I slid my other hand down to touch his shaft. It was an instinct. I had no idea what I was doing. Only that it felt so, so good. "You're going to make me come," he warned. It didn't slow me any. In fact, my moves got faster, wilder. I needed that. I needed the release an orgasm would give. I had no choice in the matter because my body was barrelling towards that direction. I clamped him to me and jerked my hips a few more times, my eyes closing as the first wave of pleasure struck me down. I moaned, and Convict gave a choked growl, the sound distant to my senses where I gasped then draped onto him, caught up in my own pleasure. A rush of sparkling happiness and relief had me reeling while I pulsed and clenched and almost wished he was inside me. My body practically sang with good feeling. When I came back to earth, I lifted my head, my smile hard to hide. "Fuck," the man under me drawled. He repeated the word, elongating the sound, then bucked between my legs. "That was the sexiest thing I've ever seen." He hadn't come yet and was harder than ever. His steel-rigid dick surged in repeated hot slides. Unable to stop myself, I lifted the shirt out of the way so I could see him thrust against me. My breath hitched. Convict swore again and arched to get a view down his body to where we touched. Every one of his muscles bunched. His thick thighs beneath me. His strong arms pinned above his head. At the sight, he stilled then dropped back and came. Hot cum lashed my hand, my thighs, and the outside of my pussy, and I stared, mesmerised and still so turned on, even with my release. He was beautiful. I'd thought so at first sight, but seeing him like this-vulnerable in his position below me-was something else. Yet I couldn't keep the doubts at bay, along with a healthy dose of self-judgement at how I'd let myself be led by emotion. With care, I climbed off him, my breathing slowing and embarrassment creeping in. But my captor didn't let me slope off without a parting speech, spoken through a smile that almost made me want to jump on him again. "That was fucking incredible. The image of you coming is now branded in my brain. I told you my body knows yours. Maybe not in real life, but in every other form of recognition. You're mine, Mila. Sooner you realise it, the better."