Caught by the Convicts
She does as she’s told, so beautiful with her swollen mouth and pre-orgasm eyes, I can barely breathe for worshiping her so deeply.
“We’ll confront him head on. We’ll rid you of the fear before the sun comes up.” I kiss her mouth hungrily, sensing an increase in Ruger’s efforts. Tasting her appreciation of it with my tongue. Capturing her breathy whimpers. “Let us do that for you. Let us show you we’re worthy of your trust.”
That’s what this is all about, I realize.
Trust.
We need Wendy’s in order to keep her. I’m so eager for it, my chest is locked up like a safe and her confidence in us is the only combination.
She begins to tremble, her flesh pulsing against my fingers. And when Ruger makes a guttural sound and begins licking more eagerly, I know she’s had her orgasm.
“Say yes,” I growl against her mouth.
“Yes!”
Relief pours through me. But I’ve only won the battle.
There’s a war ahead—and the only prize I can live with, the only prize I can imagine is keeping these two people with me, just like this, forever.
Chapter 6
Ruger
The three of us are standing across the street from an old house on the outskirts of town. Sunrise is still a couple of hours away, so the dilapidated one-story is lit by the moon. The porch is sagging in the center, the rain gutter hangs off the house, creaking every time it’s pushed by the wind. The lawn is overgrown and littered with wrappers and broken glass.
Wendy stands between me and Klay and it’s easy to feel the tension radiating off her. At first, I wasn’t sure why Klay insisted on us coming here, but I think I understand now. He wants Wendy to face her fear.
When I was younger, I had a fear of the water. My mother never took us swimming or to the beach growing up, so the water of Baltimore’s Inner Harbor was just this bottomless, murky, foreign thing. In the early days, when we used to pickpocket for cash, I refused to operate too close to the water, worried the black depth of it would suck me in. One night, Klay broke us into a swimming pool at a motel and taught me how to swim in that clipped, no-nonsense way of his. After that, my phobia was gone. He claimed he only taught me to swim so I could be a more effective pickpocket, but I think it was more than that. Klay fixes what’s broken inside of everyone else so he can ignore his own grief and anger, inflicted by his father.
That’s not to say he doesn’t want to help Wendy. He does—badly.
I’m watching Klay right now, the way he looks at her. It’s pure possessiveness and wonder and lust. It makes my blood pound hot. Makes me lick my lips to catch the flavor of her pussy, too. God, the way her delicate little muscles flexed when she came…I’ve never been more gratified in my life. To hear her sobs and know they were for me. I could remain on my knees using my tongue on her every day for eternity and never get tired of licking.
Klay’s hand lifts, his fingers threading through Wendy’s long, loose hair. He grips the strands slowly. “Easy, baby,” he murmurs against her ear.
She takes a deep inhale. In response to her shoulders relaxing, mine do the same. I’m attuned to our woman. Territorial. Worshipful. Klay and I have been loose ends walking around for years. Wendy arrived and braided the three of us together. Now we’re stronger. We’re no longer flapping in the wind without a purpose or care.
She’s our purpose.
I watch in total astonishment as her hand reaches for mine and we lock fingers. Now she’s bracketed by men, felons who are twice her size. Both of us zeroed in on her, aching to anticipate her needs. My hunger is rising to the surface again. I need her. I need them both. But I put a stranglehold on the lust and focus on the moment at hand. This is important. Klay has a plan for absolving Wendy of her fear and there will be no satisfaction until it’s done.
“Let’s go inside,” Klay says.
After a beat, Wendy nods and I don’t think, I just sweep her up into my arms, refusing to let her walk across that filthy front yard. My boots crunch in through the glass and debris on our way to the porch steps. We go up and stop in front of the door. Klay tests the handle and finds it locked, so he takes a step back and kicks the door in, splintering the wood around the hinges. My cock fills with blood at the show of strength, stiffening, and I can’t help but lower my mouth to Wendy’s, groaning into a kiss. She opens her soft lips for me, her fingernails rasping along my unshaven jaw—and I realize two important things.