Chapter 25 Mila Waking in a man's arms was a brand-new experience and one I strangely liked. I'd never once had a boyfriend sleep over in this apartment, not that men had been high on my agenda. It belonged to my grandparents, even if only I used it, so it hadn't felt right to abuse their hospitality. All the stops were off now. I flexed against Convict's big body, shifting my knee over his thigh, the rough hair on his leg abrading my soft skin. From last night, my body felt deliciously used. My limbs heavy, my pussy aching. Yet somehow, I wanted more. It was like a dam had been blown up. My sexuality had been unleashed, with only one target in sight. Slowly, I shifted up onto my elbow and peeked at him. His face was slightly turned from me, his dark hair messy and his eyes closed. Sleep softened his rough edges, returning him to the lost boy I'd been instantly fascinated by. I let myself soak in the sight. So much had gone down in such a short time, I was in danger of believing that it hadn't truly happened. The tall, dark, and dangerous man in my bed was very real. With care, I tugged the blanket down to reveal his bare chest. Need sank through me at his hard body and expanse of tattoos. I never thought of myself being all that visual, yet I could spend hours just ogling him. If I only moved the blanket a few inches more, I'd get the money shot. I sensed rather than saw his eyes cracking open. Guilty, I jerked back. He tightened his arm around me to keep me in place. "I'm not awake. I'm a coma patient, still. Any undressing is on you. Keep going." I hid my face with my hand. "Oh God." "I'm begging you to carry on." "I'm so embarrassed." Flustered, I tried to rise. Convict pulled me onto his body. Both of us were naked, the sheets twisted between us. "What do you need, Mila? Tell me." I buried my face in his chest. "To run away and hide. Then a cold shower." Sure fingers stroked over my hair and down my face then tipped up my chin. "No, you don't. You're as needy as I am. Just like when I woke in the night and fucked you in your sleep." Fresh desire tightened my insides. Coming to with him inside me had almost broken my brain. He'd even cleaned me up after. "I'm aware." "But, all of that was yesterday, and the rules state that we need to fuck every day. Are you going to make me do all the work?" I had to be bright red. "I can't just..." "You did in my room in the warehouse." He released me to raise his hands behind his head, his wrists together and his biceps bulging. Then he gestured to the side of the bed. "Pick up my hospital bag." I leaned to do as he asked and caught sight of the rug and mirror from last night. Thoughts of him railing me from behind while I wore the blindfold stole my breath. Convict rumbled a laugh. "Get the handcuffs from inside. I brought them along. Chain me up and do what you want with me." Shocked, I widened my eyes at him. "I can't do that." "You can and you will. I don't even have to come. Just get yourself off." My heart rate spiked. I was so hot for him it was burning me up. It wasn't that I only wanted sex. I wanted to be on him. To get under his skin. To have free use of him like he'd done of me. Of their own accord, my fingers found the cuffs. I returned the bag to the floor. Then I spied the skeleton-print bandanna he'd used on me, down between the bed pillows. I fished it out. Convict followed my actions. He flashed another grin and tipped his head forward, reading my intention like I was an open book. "Do it." Autopilot had taken me over, because I folded the material and fastened it over his head then cuffed his wrists, all without conscious thought. "You put a lot of trust in me. I could leave you here all day and no one would know." His chains rattled. "Little gangster, your bedframe is no match for me if I wanted to get loose. But that isn't a threat. All I want is for you to get yours. So set aside whatever's holding you back and ride my fucking dick until you come." Damn his dirty talk and the flood of liquid heat it generated. It also made my hands shake. I unwrapped myself from the blanket and threw it to the end of the bed, leaving us both uncovered. Convict was hard, of course, his knees bent as if to offer me a good place to sit. Still, I hesitated. His lips moved. "I woke up ready to go and didn't think twice about playing with you. I tried not to wake you, only partially for your sake because I wanted to have my fun while you slept. I wanted to use your body, Mila, just like you can use mine now. Touch yourself. I can't see you so you don't have to make a show of it. Consider me a human dildo." I huffed a needy laugh. "Does my dildo have a mute button, or are you a deluxe model only?" "Nah. You don't want that. You like my mouth." He was right. Plus his words made me a little braver. On my knees, I considered what I wanted to do. I needed to come, but I had options. With my fingertips to the centre of his chest, I drove them upwards, through his dusting of dark chest hair and to his throat. His voice came out rough. "Need me to talk you through this?" "No. Tell me what you did in the night." He adjusted his position on the bed, his dick bobbing. "Favourite new subject. First, I just let myself look at you. Then I played with your tits and sucked your nipples, scoring points for not waking you." Sitting back on my heels, I squeezed my nipple and tugged on it, a flash of pleasure echoing through my body. I did the same with the other side so I played with both in tandem. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the ꜰindηovel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "I knew I wanted to fuck you, but that would wake you up and I'd lose the game. So I turned you over to give me a better angle on your pussy." He exhaled. It became a groan. "I could've done so much to you. I wish I'd tasted you, but the need to come took over me once I saw your ass." My heart thumped harder. I travelled my fingers down my body to pass over my centre. I was soaked. "Open your mouth," I told him. His lips parted, and I pressed my slick fingers to his tongue. Convict sucked me clean and groaned again. "Holy fuck, sweetheart." This was oddly empowering. If I was braver, I'd ask to ride his face, but for now, it was enough that I was leading this. Kind of. I braced myself on his chest and threw my leg over him, settling onto his lap. Instantly, he adjusted his position to support me. Then I rose and fitted him to my entrance and sank down fast so I didn't lose my nerve. Convict's groan answered my silent one, my lust peaking at how thick he was. Too thick to take in one go. I eased up and down him several times until I was fully seated, then held still, lost in the sensation of being so full. I wriggled, adjusting. No, marvelling. I liked it far too much. It was an addiction I'd never worried about succumbing to because I'd never known this kind of perfect fit was a possibility. "Move, baby," the gangster urged. "Hush. Dildos don't talk." I slid up and down him, my breathing shuddering and pleasure spilling out through me. When I circled my hips, his thick length lit up more places inside than I knew I had. At last, my brain shut off. In general in life, I overthought everything. Every decision. This was pure instinct. With my palms flat to his chest, I rose and fell and worked myself on his dick. Tight heat pooled deep and low in my body, building up with every pass. It was electrifying, riding Convict. Not only from my feelings but by his sounds of pleasure. This would take no time at all. If anything, I had to slow down to tease myself and build it up more so I didn't finish too soon. My fingertip snagged on a line on his chest. No, multiple. A scar? They were under a tattoo so I couldn't be sure, and I lost the pace in my fever to fuck him. It returned quickly. I peeked up at his face. With his jaw clenched, Convict had locked his muscles tight, his biceps bulging with how hard he held himself. I didn't know if he was trying to stay quiet or to stop himself from coming, but that image shattered my resolve. I reached for my clit, enraptured with him. One pass, two. I arched my back and played with myself, getting faster and closer. Then I was falling and crashing into pleasure so intense, I cried out and slumped forward, clamping down on Convict's dick with each pulse of my climax. Under me, he gasped out, so tense, and the moment I stopped moving, he took over. He bucked into me, driving his heels into the bed to fuck me half a dozen more times until he too stilled. Inside me, he came. A laugh flew from my lips, made of relief and new pleasure from the way he thickened even more. I propped up on his chest, breathing hard as I cooled. "Bad little dildo. You weren't supposed to come." "As if I could stop it. You have no idea how incredible that was. And less of the little, thanks. I'm the XL edition, and you know it." My lips curved. I pushed up the blindfold so I could see his eyes. They trained on me. "Kiss me," he begged. I pressed my lips to his. Convict kissed me with a fever, his hips working slowly even though we were sloppy. He kissed me like he didn't want to stop, slowing and deepening until I had my fingers in his hair and his half-hard dick had returned to full power once more. Somehow, that had become almost romantic. Confusion marred my happiness. I sat up on him and touched the lines I'd discovered earlier. I squinted down. "You have a scar here." "Fuckin' covered in them." Except this was odd. It was crisscrossed in even marks. Three curved lines going one way, two bisecting them, half a centimetre apart like a fan pattern abandoned and incomplete. I frowned at it. "This doesn't look accidental." I collected the key to the handcuffs and unlocked him, showing him what I'd found. "Like someone meant to leave a mark." Convict's jaw worked for a second before he forced a smile. "Guess we'll find out who they were when we find out who I was." He kissed my shoulder, his gaze slinking down to my bare breasts. "But I'm certain that if you don't run to the bathroom and lock me out, we are never leaving this bedroom today." "You don't want to shower with me?" "More than you can believe. But I also want to feed you and give your poor pussy a rest." I climbed up and danced away. "So magnanimous." "No clue what that word means." His amusement chased me and stayed with me while I washed myself clean of everything we'd done to each other since striking our deal. When I was finished, Convict took his turn. I hovered at the bathroom door. "Hungry?" "I could go for tea and something sweet if you're making breakfast." Those were my words from our very first phone sex conversation. He remembered. "I'll order in. We're too late for any breakfast places, but we can get a late lunch from a sandwich shop nearby. I can get a selection plus coffee and pastries?" "Best wifey ever," he called back. I left him to it, carrying with me a warm little burst of happiness generated by his praise. Cross-legged on my floor, we fuelled up on the stack of sandwiches and coffee that had been delivered to the door. Had to love city living for the amount of food choices available at the press of a button. Convict pointed at me with his coffee cup. "Why aren't you supposed to know about Kane? You said that last night. It's been bothering me." I wrinkled my nose. "My grandparents only ever spoke about him once, and that was to explain why he had a vote. He was referred to as a distant relative and one I should steer clear of, but that only got me more interested." He gave me space to speak, his interest plain. It encouraged me. "For one of my placements around the company, I was with the Human Resources team. They have a digital system for all the staff but also a physical filing system called the family vault. Apparently my grandfather liked to have certain paperwork as a hard copy. But it was locked and coded. One night, I worked late, and when the last person left, I tried every code I could think of to unlock that damn vault. His and my grandmother's birth dates, when the company was formed, the numbers on the first cheque he ever received that was photographed and hanging on the wall. I tried my date of birth. Their sons'. Nothing. Then finally, I remembered my grandfather talking about his first date with my grandmother. It was the last day in a very hot July, so it stuck in my head. I had to guess the year, but at last, it worked. In the cabinet was a folder for every part of the family who got a dividend payout. Including Kane's side. It gave me enough information on him that I could contact him." "So you did?" "I did. Secretly, though. It was pretty obvious that it wouldn't please my grandparents. We met up for a drink one evening. He's the result of another short-term love affair our bio father had, but it's his mother who's on the company dividend list. She lives in Scotland, somewhere above Inverness." "Not him? He doesn't get a payout?" "Nope." "So the reason he played backup with your scheme was for his ma's sake?" "I think so. Which makes him sound dangerously noble. I'm pretty sure he'd deny it if asked." Convict pondered that, throwing back two huge beef sandwiches before he spoke again. "Why isn't he the heir? He looks older than you." "He is. Five years older. I assume our grandparents offered and he refused. He isn't...malleable, like I am. I would do anything to fit to their needs. He's like a brick. Solid and dependable but with no give. When we met, I was enthralled at having a brother. He was, not hostile exactly, but it took a long time for him to warm to me, and he refused point blank to discuss anything to do with the Marchant family. I chipped away at him like an ice block until he began to return my texts. I forced a relationship out of him. You know, after what happened yesterday, I should call him. Just to check in." "He seems like the type who can take care of himself." "True." I side-eyed my phone. I'd skimmed my copious messages and emails last night to check what had come in while I'd been gone. My inboxes were overflowing. Relatives had been messaging me relentlessly after getting the same cold shoulder from my grandmother that I had. They'd drawn a blank with the company's board, and I was the next best bet. I felt for them. With their income gone, they were in turmoil. I'd done all I could to help, but the only solution was to get the business up and running again, and I was breaking my back for that. I needed to send replies, but for one more day, they could wait. I scanned the list of new messages. One caught my eye for the user name. I opened it. Anonymous: Marchant was a despicable piece of shit. Enjoy Hell, Austin. You deserved to die. It wasn't the first hate mail my grandfather had received. In fact, I had a folder titled exactly that, and I filed the new message away so I didn't have to look at it again. It hurt, though. Austin Marchant was the greatest man who ever breathed. I missed him so much. How dare a stranger treat his memory like that? Bothered, I wrote out a message to my grandmother, just like I'd done almost every day for the past month. Mila: Are you available to meet today? I can come to you, wherever you are. I miss you. I need to know you're okay. Please call me. I hovered over the 'Send' icon, thumb tapping the edge of the screen. Maybe it was pointless. Maybe she'd deleted every message I'd written. I sent it anyway. Convict touched my knee and claimed my attention back to him. "All okay?" "Just work nonsense. I need to get out of this inbox." I shut it down and tossed my phone. "I meant to say I've heard nothing about Jacobs yet. Tyler has set up surveillance. Until he has news, I was thinking how I need to check out the places where I'm supposed to have lived. Want to come? I can be quick if you'd rather not. Maximum two hours apart." There was hope in his expression, his hair still damp and falling in his eyes. It took him back to the cute, boyish side I liked so much in him. My heart softened. "I'll come." Just like that, the devil returned. A flash of humour and need in his dark eyes. "You'll come more if we stay here, but I'm down to see what we can manage in a quick outdoor fuck on our travels." The weird thing? I didn't want him to be joking.