Convict: A Bad Boy Romance

by Roxie Noir

  “I thought you were seduced,” she says.

  In a second I’m behind her on the bed. I pull her fingers out of her pussy and lick them off, watching myself in the mirror, letting the tip of my cock rest against her opening.

  When I release her hand she pushes herself backward onto my cock and takes the whole thing before I’m expecting it and I grunt with the sheer pleasure of it, grabbing one shoulder to steady myself.

  We both look in the mirror and our eyes meet. Then she moves forward and back again and I stay still and let her fuck me, her eyes glued to the spot in the mirror where my cock disappears into her.

  “Alex,” she says, breathing hard already. “This looks so hot.”

  “This isn’t exactly missionary with the lights off, tiger,” I say.

  She’s still fucking me and I’m not moving at all, and she’s going faster and faster and moaning. Watching.

  I feel a little like I’m being used as a sex toy.

  I don’t mind.

  “Are you disappointed by that?” she asks, still fucking me.

  I’m still watching my cock disappear into her from two angles. They’re both good.

  “No,” I say. “I could watch you fuck me all day.”

  “I could fuck you all day,” she says, licking her lips.

  She stops for a moment and just pushes back against me, pressing me as deep as I can go, and she bites her lip and squeezes her eyes shut.

  “Jesus, tiger,” I whisper. “Do you want me to come already?”

  “No,” she moans, leaning forward and sliding me out until just the very tip is resting on her lips before she moves herself back. “I just like the way you feel inside me.”

  She pushes back against me again and I exhale hard, grabbing her hips and leaning forward into her.

  “Is that what you want?” I ask, trying to control myself.

  It’s not easy, with her telling me she likes my cock and using me like a sex toy.

  “Yes,” she says.

  She pulls me out again and then pushes back and this time I thrust a little because it’s fucking hard not to.

  “Don’t move,” she says. “I want to make you come.”

  “God, you’re hot when you’re filthy,” I say.

  I let her fuck me, her strokes still slow and deep, the feeling building from somewhere in my lower belly as I watch her.

  She makes eye contact with me and smiles.

  “You’re using my cock like a sex toy,” I say, tracing her spine with a finger. I don’t move my hips at all. “I may as well be a wall-mounted dildo.”

  “Dildos don’t make me come like you do,” she says. “Nothing makes me come like you do.”

  Filthy. Fuck yes.

  “I thought you didn’t want me to come yet,” I say.

  “I don’t,” she gasps.

  I can feel her pussy muscles fluttering around my cock and I fight not to come.

  “You can’t talk like that, then,” I say.

  She pushes back again and god I’m so deep inside her and it feels so good that there’s a second where I’m certain I’m going to lose control.

  “I’ll say whatever I want,” she says, that fighting sparkle in her eyes. “I’ll tell you how good your cock feels and how much I like watching us fuck.”

  She does it again and then gasps, her hands making fists on her comforter. She locks eyes with me and moves again, faster and harder, and then she’s got her head thrown back and I’m deep inside her, hanging on by a thread.

  “Alex,” she moans, and then her muscles clamp down on me and she just moans and then I’ve lost control and I’m coming in her for the second time in a couple hours, just spewing profanities over and over until I’m finished and she is too.

  We look at each other in the mirror, me still inside her, and then we both smile. Tessa collapses forward and I pull out and crawl up beside her in bed, my whole body covered in a light sheen of sweat.

  She puts her head in the crook of my arm and I find her hand with mine and lace our fingers together without thinking.

  It’s a second before I realize we’re snuggling.

  Me and Tessa. Like we’re a couple, or something.

  36

  Tessa

  Fuck, we’re snuggling.

  I like it. That’s not the problem; having Alex’s arm around me after that feels exactly right.

  I just wish it wouldn’t, because this isn’t a thing. It can’t be a thing.

  We don’t even know each other, because after he kidnapped me we spent about forty-eight hours together, and then I thought he was dead for a year and a half.

  That’s not how relationships start.

  This is not a relationship.

  This is just fucking.

  It’s really really good fucking, but it’s not more, and it can’t be. I can’t be dating the guy who — I don’t think I can emphasize this strongly enough — kidnapped me, and I haven’t even mentioned the two men he murdered.

  Alex is a kidnapper and a murderer and a fighter, and very much not my boyfriend.

  “So,” he says, after a couple minutes of snuggling. “Do you have a wall-mounted dildo?”

  I stop thinking about my non-relationship problems and snort.

  “No,” I say.

  “Do you have a regular dildo?” he asks.

  Yes. I’ve got a couple, actually, but I’m suddenly the nice, proper Tessa again and am oddly afraid that he’ll be offended by my dildo use.

  When I don’t answer right away, he grins.

  “I can’t believe you told me you were a prude, you filthy thing,” he says, and kisses my temple. “Where is it?”

  I don’t answer again, but he half rolls over me, opening the drawer in the side table.

  That one’s full of books, and he sorts through it quickly.

  “These aren’t even dirty books,” he says. “I’m disappointed, tiger.”

  “I don’t need dirty books,” I say. “I’ve got an imagination.”

  He rolls to his other side and opens that drawer and I squeeze my eyes shut.

  For a second, he doesn’t say anything.

  “Holy shit, tiger,” he says at last. “Missionary in the dark my ass.”

  I can feel myself turn bright red.

  “Gotcha,” I say, half-heartedly.

  I wasn’t lying.

  I was missionary-in-the-dark girl, and then my whole kidnapping fuckfest happened. Afterwards I think I bought every sex toy under the sun, hoping I’d find one that worked half as well as the guy who’d kidnapped me.

  I had plenty of fun and plenty of orgasms, but nothing was ever quite the same.

  I can hear him turning vibrators on and off and chuckling to himself, like he’s found the jackpot.

  Then he rolls back over.

  “I think we’re gonna have some fun, tiger,” he says. “Just give me half an hour.”

  Instead I wake up to sunlight creeping through the blinds. Somehow, we got under the blankets and Alex is curled around me, holding me tight to him, and I feel oddly content, oddly safe and warm and fuzzy in the arms of the last person who should be making me feel any of those things.

  I sneak one arm out of the blankets and check the time. It’s 6:30, but my movement wakes Alex up because I can hear him yawn, and he kisses the back of my shoulder sleepily.

  “Morning, tiger,” he says.

  “Morning,” I say.

  “We fell asleep,” he murmurs into my hair. “I meant to try out something I found in your drawer first.”

  “What was it?” I ask.

  He’s already got an erection. I can feel it against my lower back, and now he presses it against me lightly and goddamn if I’m not already getting wet.

  “I’m not gonna say yet,” he says.

  “I don’t use them all,” I say.

  It’s true. I mean, I have my favorites.

  “You should,” he says, and now he’s growling in my ear. “It’s sexy as fuck that you
’ve got a drawer full of toys.”

  My hand’s on his side and I move it down his outer thigh. My pulse quickens. His muscles are like goddamn steel and I arch my back into him, pushing myself against his erection.

  I shouldn’t. I should be getting out of bed, putting on pants, making coffee, and then insisting that we talk about our expectations for this relationship.

  While clothed.

  “Did that turn you on?” he asks, his lips still right by my ear.

  Any intention I had of getting out of bed dissolves along with his fingers stroking my thigh.

  After this, I think. Just one quick wake up fuck and then you talk, because sooner or later you have to stop letting your pussy tell you what to do.

  “Maybe,” I say. “Either that or your cock pressed up against me,” I say.

  I half-turn and look at him over my shoulder.

  “Unlike you, I’m a pretty easy lay,” I tease.

  His face clouds for a moment, and then he turns away.

  I hear the drawer open.

  “Disagree,” he says. “I’ve never tried half so hard to get a girl.”

  You seriously have to have a conversation with him after this, I think.

  He turns back with a long, skinny bullet vibrator in his hand and he tosses it on the bed in front of me, then moves the blankets off of us.

  Now I can see my whole body in the mirror, lying on my side.

  “You like the mirror, huh?” I ask.

  I scoot up and then reach between my legs for his cock and stroke it, watching myself. It’s pretty fucking sexy.

  “I’m not the one with a whole wall of mirrors in her bedroom,” he says.

  “It’s the best layout,” I say.

  It’s actually true. When I moved in here, having sex with someone in this bed was pretty much the last thing on my mind. That’s what the toys were for.

  “It’s the best layout for watching yourself while you’re fucking,” he whispers, and there’s something strange and just a little savage in his voice.

  I think but I haven’t been... and it hits me.

  He thinks I’ve been fucking someone else. I half turn around again, just enough to look him in the eye.

  “Are you jealous?” I ask.

  “Fuck no,” he says.

  If I had any goddamn sense, that would be the end of this conversation, but no. I have to needle him.

  “Are you sure?” I ask.

  “You thought I was dead, tiger,” he says. “Being jealous would be ridiculous.”

  “But you are,” I say. “You’re jealous that someone else might have gotten to watch themselves fuck me.”

  His face goes totally blank, because I’m right.

  Shit.

  Jealousy is not a fuck buddy feeling.

  “I don’t care,” he says, stonily. “It’s not my business what you did.”

  Jesus Christ, I like that he’s jealous, and that’s not a fuck buddy feeling either. It’s kind of hot that he’s jealous, a fire lighting behind his eyes that I can feel in my core.

  I take his hand and put it on one breast and he pinches one nipple.

  “You’re jealous of anyone who did this,” I say.

  “Quit it, tiger,” he says, but he doesn’t stop, rolling my nipple until it almost hurts.

  His dick stiffens even more, and I grab it again between my legs.

  “You’re jealous that I might have done this to someone else,” I say.

  “I’m not jealous,” he says.

  “So you’re not jealous that I might have shouted someone else’s name,” I say, because I can’t stop myself anymore. The angry flame in his eyes burns into me, lighting a fire from inside.

  Alex hoists himself up on one elbow and glares at me in the mirror. I keep on lounging on my side, his rock-hard cock in my hand.

  “I don’t care who else you’ve fucked,” he growls. “Because I’m fucking you now.”

  “What if I told someone else that I needed his cock inside me right now?” I ask.

  That’s it. That’s the final straw. His jaw flexes and I swear he bares his teeth as he grabs my hair with his hand and pulls my head back just enough.

  He looks me in the eye in the mirror, then grabs my wrist and takes my hand off his cock, practically flinging it away from me. It lands on the bed in front of me and I grab the bedsheets, my head pulled back and my back arched, totally under his control.

  My pussy is aching and my whole body feels like a black hole of need.

  Alex bites my ear lobe and slides his tongue along the shell.

  “I wouldn’t care if you did that, because I’m not jealous, tiger,” he growls. “You can do whatever you want, and right here, right now, you’re practically begging me to fuck you.”

  He strokes my lips and then pushes them apart with his fingers, dipping one into me, and I bite my lip.

  In one hard stroke he slides inside me and I groan, grabbing tighter onto the bedsheets and pushing my hips back against him.

  “That noise is why I’m not jealous,” he whispers. “Because that noise is where you go from nice to wicked and all I have to do is put my cock in you.”

  He pulls out and then he’s fucking me slow and hard and it feels mind-breakingly good. I can’t do a thing except moan at the barely-controlled, primal way he’s just taking me.

  “See?” he murmurs savagely. “I don’t have anything to be jealous of. Fuck all the men you want, but I know you’re not getting fucked like this.”

  Even though the hard, bright glow inside me keeps growing, I start to feel bad about this.

  I take a deep breath and focus, just for a moment.

  “Relax,” I gasp. “Everyone else I fucked was a sex toy.”

  He stops for a second, looking at me, his face a mixture of relief and irritation.

  “You were just messing with me?” he asks.

  I nod, still panting for breath.

  “I like how you fuck me when you’re angry,” I whisper.

  He growls and then he pulls on my hair just a little more and drives his cock into me hard.

  “Oh, fuck yes,” I moan.

  “Like that?” he asks, whispering.

  He does it again.

  “You like it when I fuck you that way?”

  “Yes,” I gasp.

  “You like it when I get rough and I take you however I want?” he asks, his voice raw.

  “God, yes,” I say.

  He grabs the vibrator and turns it on high.

  “Tiger, you can just tell me how you want me to fuck you,” he says.

  He pushes the vibrator between my legs until he’s moving it against my clit and I nearly scream.

  “You can say fuck me hard or fuck me gentle or fuck me in the ass or just eat me out tonight or even just watch me while I fuck myself, and I’m happy to do it,” he says.

  He’s still thrusting hard and slow and deep and he pulls my hair. The vibrator feels like it’s rattling down to my bones, my whole body about to fly apart.

  “I’ll fuck you any way you want, tiger. That’s a goddamn guarantee.”

  I cry out wordlessly, the sheets in my fists and suddenly he takes the vibrator away, his cock balls-deep in me.

  “Say my name,” he says.

  “Alex,” I gasp.

  “Again.”

  “Alex,” I shout.

  I can see him watching me in the mirror.

  “Fuck me, Alex,” I moan.

  He does, hard, and then the vibrator’s back and this time I scream “Fuck me, Alex!” as I come so hard it almost knocks the wind out of me, and then he’s coming too and there’s nothing except us, the waves of pleasure washing over me, him holding me tight and his cock inside me.

  We stay like that for a long time, his face pressed against the back of my neck.

  I’m almost afraid. Not of him, but of this, of us, of what’s going on here.

  I want him so much it terrifies me.

  I was getting better, h
ere in Portland, but then he came back and I feel like all that work I did in the last year and a half has just been swept away. It’s like he unlocked a door deep inside me that I didn’t know what was there, and beyond it was just a chasm of filthy, dirty want.

  That’s not the worst part.

  The worst part is I think I might like him when we’re not fucking, but I can’t like him.

  He kidnapped me. I watched him kill two people and break someone’s jaw, and that’s not someone I can be with, that’s someone who has to be my dirty secret.

  But there’s something macho and primal about Alex that I’ve never found in anyone else, and God help me, I like it.

  Behind me, he drags a finger over the side of my hip, watching it in the mirror.

  Say something, I think. Have a grownup conversation, with clothes and everything.

  I swallow.

  After breakfast, I think.

  37

  Alex

  We’re still lying there when her alarm goes off, so she grabs it and turns it off and I roll over onto my back.

  We look at each other.

  “Tell your boss you’re sick,” I say. “It’s Friday. Spend the weekend in bed with me.”

  She frowns and opens her mouth, so I reach over and put my fingers on it.

  “Be bad once,” I say. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

  I keep my hand there until she nods. She grabs her phone, gets out of bed, and as she walks into the next room, she says something about eating a bad salad last night into her phone.

  I grin at the ceiling, and then remember that I also have a boss who also expects me at nine, so I get up and make a call too.

  We pretty much stay in bed for the weekend. I don’t put a stitch of clothing on the entire time, and Tessa only puts a robe on when she’s answering the door for food delivery.

  That morning I eat her out on the kitchen counter and then we fuck on the kitchen floor, her knees over my shoulders. We eat breakfast and talk about how different Portland is from Los Angeles, how it’s a little strange that the rivers here are so big and the freeways so small.

  Then she sits on my lap and feeds me blueberries one at a time, and by the time the blueberries are gone I’m hard again. She rides my cock and whispers you’re the best fuck I’ve ever had when she comes, like I don’t already know.