Chapter 23 Mila Convict prowled back over to me, a piece of material in his hands. I watched him in the way a rabbit would track a wolf. My heart hammered. I'd turned into a prey animal, and my muscles had locked so hard a tremble started deep inside me. It mixed with lust until I couldn't move. My predator twisted the black cloth in his hands and closed in until he loomed over me. "Kiss me." That, I could do. I raised my lips to meet his. I needed his guidance. I couldn't do this on my own. He coaxed a hot kiss from me, and his arms moved around me until our bodies touched. My eyes closed, and I gave myself over to the rush of sensation and deepening need. This was chaste in comparison to everything else we'd done, but Convict carried menace like a weapon. It spilled over into everything he did, including in how he seduced me. His knuckles came up to brush over the side of my cheek, then the material touched my face, covering my eyes. He tied it off at the back of my head, and I pulled back, raising a hand to touch what he'd done. "You blindfolded me?" "Don't take it off. Think of it as a trust fall, only with orgasms." I sensed him stepping away. A click sounded like the lamp had come on. Hyperawareness flooded my system at not knowing where he was. When he touched my shoulder, I jumped. His other hand landed on my hip, and a small push guided me to move. I obeyed, entering my bedroom, jumping again at the snick of the door closing at my back. My bare feet touched the fluffy rug, and he murmured for me to stop. My breathing stuttered. I'd liked the scene he described, even if I'd locked up when presented with it. Somehow, he'd found a way to make this even hotter. Convict spoke next to my ear. "You have no idea what you do to me. This first time is all for me. I'll take what I want and you'll love it. Nod that you understand." I jerked my head frantically. His fingertips slipped into my waistband, and he yanked down the yoga pants I'd borrowed from the warehouse. Underneath, I was naked, and cool air slid over my thighs and between my legs. Convict made a sound of hunger and dragged them off my feet then came back up me to grasp my t-shirt. He twisted it in his fist and drew it up my body. For a moment, I thought he was going to leave it in place, but he eased it over my head and removed it, leaving me completely bare except for the bandanna around my eyes and the gold-and-diamond necklace at my throat. A careful finger plucked the jewellery from my chest, and Convict chuffed a laugh. "If only I'd seen this earlier, Miss E Marchant." He released it. My shudder took over me, and I resisted the urge to cover myself. I typically didn't stare at my body naked in the mirror. I didn't like my dimpled thighs. The groan of need from the man at my back almost persuaded me I was wrong. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ ƒind ηøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Strong fingertips skimmed my sides until he cupped my breasts, his thumbs pressing onto my nipples. Fire trailed in his touch, lighting up my whole body. Overwhelmed, I tipped my head back to his shoulder. Convict squeezed my flesh and laid a kiss to my cheek. "You're so fucking beautiful. Your body makes me weak. Get on your knees." I sank down, a hand out to feel for the rug and my senses trained on whatever he was doing. A rustling of clothes told me he was undressing. I didn't have to wait long until his hands were back on me, his touch easing up my spine. Heat radiated off him. He held my shoulder and pulled me upright so he could play with my breasts, his body crowding mine from behind and his ultrahard dick against my ass. His fingers trailed sparks over my skin. I was too alert to every touch. "Fuck, you should see how you look. Your incredible body with me behind. Pristine girl and tattooed boy." He landed an open-mouthed kiss on my neck. Even without seeing that image, I could imagine us in the mirror with his big hands moulding my breasts then tugging on my nipples. His much bigger form behind mine. All black ink and hard muscles. Pleasure spilled through me. In a rush, I hated the bandanna, yet I couldn't ask him to take it off. I didn't want to get hooked up on my imperfections. It was bad enough that multiple people had seen me running scared and nude through the basement. This way, I could pretend I was perfect. Convict splayed a hand over my sternum and drove the other down, over my soft belly to the apex of my thighs. He touched me between the legs, and I gasped at the hit of sensation. I needed more. "You're fucking soaked, Mila. So here's the problem. I wanted to play, but if I don't fuck you right now, it'll kill me." "Yes," I spluttered. He gave a dark laugh and nudged my legs wider with his knees. "Wasn't asking permission. It was a warning. You're mine however I want you." With no further pause, he placed his dick between my thighs. I thought he'd toy with me despite his words. But Convict notched himself to my entrance and thrust home. Startled, I cried out and fell forward. He returned me upright, my back pressed to his chest, and his arm clamped around me. He swore and thrust again, going deeper. All I knew was that point of contact. The stretch of him entering me. Convict leaned back, taking me with him so my body was entirely exposed, the rolling of his hips continuing. "In the mirror, my dick is disappearing inside you. You're taking me so well, even if I'm not even halfway in yet." My panic spiked. He was big, I knew that from almost riding him, but I could barely remember when he'd been inside me in the basement. Had he been all the way inside? I couldn't be sure. The whole event had turned into pieces of memory mostly made of terror and then relief. I swallowed. "Go slow." "No. I need to go deep. On all fours and relax for me." I dropped my hands to the rug, bowing my head. Convict held my hips and circled his to open me. He worked in deeper, each thrust taking him in further and driving me more insane. "Almost there. Breathe, baby. You're doing so good." I exhaled, needing this as much as he did. I couldn't explain my attraction to the man, but our connection felt more vital than any I'd ever known. He jacked his hips one last time then pulsed inside me. I cried out, my pussy throbbing around him in response. Our bodies were flush against each other. We'd done it. He was so thick and in so deep, he hit multiple pleasure points at the same time. I'd never felt anything like it. My lost boy groaned and rolled his hips. "Fucking hell. You're taking me. Good girl." Pride suffused me. I gripped the soft rug. Everything narrowed to the point of where we touched. I needed to come, and fast. So much I barely knew my name. Only that I needed him to move. He didn't keep me waiting. With his fingers indenting my hips, he withdrew and slammed back into me, right to the hilt. We gave up twin sounds of pleasure. Convict repeated the action, and I backed into the hit, charging up with electrifying need. It was the fact he was bare. We hadn't even discussed it, only followed the need to fuck. I was never this reckless, but with the deal we'd made, it felt pointless. I liked giving myself over to him. I wanted to not be responsible for every little part of my life. God only knew how much I'd had on my shoulders, so this craziness with a beautiful boy pushed me so far from my comfort zone yet was exactly what I needed. I'd lost my mind. I didn't care if I found it. Each thrust got harder. Impossibly deeper. I dropped my head to my folded arms and just let myself feel the building desire, hearing his words about how beautiful I looked in the mirror. What should have been exposing was somehow freeing. I'd never known anything like the sensation of this man owning my body. The pleasure coiling inside me intensified almost to the point of pain. He didn't slow. Didn't stop. Only kept up that frantic rhythm that was driving me towards a cliff. Convict loosened his hold on my hip and eased his hand underneath me. Without losing pace, he touched where we joined then drew his fingers back to my clit. I was so primed for him that, at the barest of touches, I moaned. He tapped me right there on that sensitive bundle of nerves, still stretching me, still filling me. I groaned and panted for breath, so close. "Need to come?" he taunted. "Y-yes." "Maybe I'll let you. Or maybe I need you to admire my work." Abruptly, he pulled me upright and yanked the bandanna up to clear my vision, no pause in his thrusts. I took a shocked inhale and stared at the mirror image of us. My curvy body being owned by him. His tattooed arm banded around to the base of my throat, the other hand between my legs. His dick spearing into me. I'd never seen anything so hot. It was his smirk that did it. A devilish smile that came as he tapped my clit again. I detonated. A surge of towering pleasure smacked me down. I draped back and throbbed around Convict's dick, my eyes closing, my body alive, and the sensation overwhelming in every way. Scorching waves of good feeling fizzed along every vein, dragging me under to a place I never wanted to leave. Convict snarled and lowered the bandanna back into place. My still-throbbing orgasm apparently triggered his, and with a few more ragged thrusts, he cried out and pulsed into me, spilling deep inside me. I shuddered, high on what he'd done and barely attached to my body. It took long minutes to come back to earth. Still half-hard inside me, he pressed a kiss to my shoulder. "Don't move." He pulled out. I mourned the loss of him. Footsteps sounded, then running water followed in the bathroom. He returned, and a wet cloth touched me between the legs. I jerked, and embarrassment flooded me. All of this was new. The animalistic sex, the after-care. "Bed, now," were the last words spoken. He picked me up and carried me to my sheets. The light clicked off. Then warmth, his body, his arms, his breath on the back of my neck. We lay together in silence, skin to skin. The bandanna still covered my eyes. Not because he told me to keep it on, but because I wanted to. I didn't want to see anything else right now. Just feel him.