Fatal Felons (Saint View Prison #3)

He paused to gaze down at me, questions in his eyes.

I shook my head softly. “I’m just curious. I didn’t mean it to come out sounding jealous.”

“It didn’t. I was just considering it myself.”

“Have you guys talked about it?”

He snorted. “We don’t really do that. But, Mae?”

“Mmm?”

His tongue paused against my skin. “I’d rather talk to you.”

“About? Shopping list or the weather perhaps?”

“What I’m going to do to you.”

My stomach clenched. “Oh.”

“You blush when you’re embarrassed, did you know that? You’re pink all over right now.” He kissed his way over my mound and, unashamed, I spread my legs for him.

He sucked in a breath. “Pink here, too. So fucking gorgeous.”

I felt it. He ran his palms up my thighs, spreading me so wide he could see every inch of me. My legs trembled in anticipation.

“Gonna suck you, sweetheart. Gonna suck and fuck you with my tongue so hard you beg me to stop. But I won’t. I’m just gonna keep going until I’ve given you all three of those orgasms I owe you.”

There was no playing in his voice. He was deadly serious.

His gaze met mine, and I gave him the nod of permission I knew he was waiting for.

He grinned, his mouth hovering over the spot I wanted him most.

I closed my eyes, bunched my fingers in the rug, and held on as he licked his way through my folds. My hips jerked right off the floor, pressing up toward his mouth wantonly, begging for more. He pushed me back down, pinning me to the floor, and did it again.

Something inside me lit up at being restrained, while he poured pleasure on me. As promised, his tongue worked my clit before plunging inside me. He ate my pussy like it was his favorite dessert, slowly and leisurely, savoring it, until he reached the bottom. Then he picked up the pace. He drove his tongue inside me, swapping to his fingers when my moans became more insistent. Pleasure swirled inside me, until it took over and exploded behind my eyes.

“Oh!” I yelled, not worrying about being quiet because there was nobody around. I clenched down hard around his fingers.

Heath abruptly turned me onto my stomach and slapped me on the ass. “Good girl.”

I blinked in surprise, but the pleasure coursing from the minor sting only turned me on more. My pussy throbbed, and Heath’s groan of approval made me sure he could tell.

“Facedown, ass up, sweetheart.” He pulled my hips up, spreading my knees wide.

On the rug, I turned my face to one side, desperate for more.

Heath’s palm massaged my ass cheek, rubbing over the spot where he’d made contact. “Even prettier when your ass is pink from my palm across it.”

I clenched down on nothing and whimpered. I had no idea why that was so hot, but I wanted him to do it again. I’d heard other women talking about calling their men Daddy and always thought it ridiculous. But in that moment, the word scalded my tongue, begging to be yelled.

He used his thumbs to spread me wide and then dove between my legs once more.

I pressed back against his face, screaming out when his tongue flickered over the puckered star of my asshole. My eyes rolled back. I loved the way he felt there. It was so dirty, so hot, and I begged him not to stop.

“Not until you come,” he promised. “Fuck, Mae. You’re so wet. So sweet.” He reared back and slapped my ass again.

“Yes!” I was so close to another orgasm and desperate to fall into it.

His thumb found my clit, two fingers slid into my pussy, and his tongue flickered over my ass. All three combined were too much and yet completely perfect. I yelped his name, grinding back on him while the orgasm rocketed through me once more. My thighs trembled, threatening to give out, but when they did, Heath followed me down, not letting up even when I was flat to the floor. I yelled again, nipples finding friction against the rug while the most ruggedly handsome man I’d ever seen devoured me.

I wanted him inside me. I wanted him everywhere.

He sprawled out beside me, propping himself on his side, supporting his head with one hand. I turned my head toward him, watching his face while he trailed his fingertips all over my curves.

“What did you do the other half of the time?”

He paused to look at me. “Huh?”

“You said you spent half your time in prison hating yourself for not making a move on me earlier. What did you do the other half of the time?”

“Ate. Slept. Jacked off thinking about you.”

I stole a glance down his body, over the tattoos on his chest and thighs. His erection jutted toward me, thick and hard. “Show me.”

His eyes flared with heat. Slowly, he gripped his length and gave it a stroke. The head disappeared into his fist, only to reappear glistening with precum. He watched me as he touched himself, each stroke becoming a little faster until he was panting with need.

I raised my gaze to his eyes.

The heat there burned me. Scalded me from head to toe, then gathered in the depths of my core once more. With a feral groan, he pushed me onto my back, covering my body with his.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, inviting him home, and he sank in, eliciting an identical moan of ecstasy from both of us.

Watching me intently, he moved slowly between my thighs, his thick cock stretching my already sensitive center. He lowered his head to kiss me, and it was sweet and soft and everything we hadn’t been before. My heart swelled. I knew him. I always had. He was the man I’d spent hours talking with about anything and nothing. He was the man who had occupied my thoughts and my heart ever since. He was the man I’d given up a life for, but found another in its place, a better one, one that involved him.

He gave me space to be me. To love who I wanted. And to be loved unconditionally in return.

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