His fingers work magic, circling and stroking with a skill that has me panting in minutes. I barely notice him tugging my jeans down until they're around my ankles, my panties following. Suddenly I'm naked from the waist down, my most intimate parts exposed to his gaze.
Instinctively, I try to cover myself, but he gently stops me. "Don't," he says. "You're beautiful. Every inch of you."
Before I can respond, he's moving down my body, kneeling between my legs despite his injury.
"You shouldn't," I protest weakly. "Your wound—"
"I've been locked up for eighteen months," he cuts me off, his breath hot against my inner thigh. "I'm starving."
His tongue finds me then, one long stroke from entrance to clit that has me gripping the couch cushions. Nothing in my limited experience prepared me for this. The wet heat of his mouth, theexpert flick of his tongue, the building pressure that makes my thighs tremble.
He places both hands on my inner thighs, holding me open as he explores every sensitive fold. I writhe beneath him, arching my back, lost in sensation. Sweat beads on my forehead as pressure builds low in my belly, a tightening coil of pleasure that grows with each pass of his tongue.
When he slides one finger inside me while his tongue continues its relentless attention to my clit, the coil snaps. I come with a cry, my body clenching around his finger, waves of pleasure washing over me with an intensity I've never experienced alone.
He looks up at me, satisfaction evident in his expression. "Already done," he asks, "or ready for the main course?"
I'm still panting, my body humming with aftershocks, but I know what I want. "Ready," I breathe, spreading my thighs wider in invitation.
He stands, unbuckling his belt with one hand, his eyes never leaving mine. There's something intensely erotic about watching him undress, about knowing what's coming. He pushes his jeans down, then his briefs, and his erection springs free, thick and hard.
I reach for him, wrapping my fingers around his length. His skin is incredibly soft over steel hardness, and he groans as I stroke his cock, learning the feel of him. He grows even harder in my hand, impossibly larger.
"Fuck me," I say, the words strange and thrilling on my tongue. "I want you inside me."
He positions himself between my legs, one hand guiding his cock to my entrance. "Slow," he warns. "It might hurt at first."
Chapter 9 - Convict
I position myself between Rebecca's legs, one hand guiding my cock to her entrance. "Slow," I warn her. "It might hurt at first."
Her eyes lock with mine, trust and desire swirling in those warm brown depths. I push forward gently, the head of my cock stretching her tight entrance. She winces slightly, and I freeze.
"You okay?" I ask, fighting every instinct that screams at me to thrust deep.
She nods, her hands gripping my forearms. "Don't stop."
I continue the slow invasion, watching her face for any sign of real discomfort. Inch by inch, her virgin pussy takes my length, stretching around me, so fucking tight and hot I have to grit my teeth to maintain control.
When I'm fully seated inside her, I pause, letting her adjust. My wound throbs dully, a reminder that I should be taking it easy, but I don't give a fuck. Nothing could make me stop now.
"James," she breathes my name like a prayer. "Move. Please."
I start with gentle strokes, pulling out halfway before sliding back in. Her body responds instantly, hips rising to meet mine, pussy growing wetter with each thrust. I increase my pace gradually, watching her face transform with pleasure.
My wound still hurts, but I don't care. Right now, I only care about Rebecca. Beautiful curvy Rebecca, who's beneath me, taking my cock so well. She's writhing, eyes half-lidded, mouth ajar, hair fluttering around her face as I fuck her as hard and fast as I can without ripping my stitches.
"Fuck, you feel amazing," I growl, hands gripping her hips, pulling her into each thrust. "So fucking tight around me."
She looks so fucking gorgeous now, and I can't stop. I bury my cock deep inside her and pull out, just to slam it right back in. She bites her lower lip to keep her moans inside, but I don't want that.
"Let me hear you," I command, leaning down to nip at her neck. "Don't hold back. I want to hear you begging for more."
"Please," she whimpers, releasing her lip. "More, James. Harder."
I drive into her, my balls slapping against her ass with each thrust. I love hearing that splashing sound each time my cock leaves her wet pussy and creates a vacuum, then fills it again. It echoes in my head as I keep thrusting forward, flexing my knees as she squeezes her breasts.
She might be inexperienced, but she's not innocent. She's loving this as much as I am, her body responding instinctively, her pussy clenching around my cock like she's done this a hundred times.
