Home > Caught by the Convicts(7)

Caught by the Convicts(7)
Author: Jessa Kane

This might be the first time in my life I’ve seen Klay unsure. Normally he’s cocky as sin, and who wouldn’t be, looking like that? “She’ll want it,” I say firmly.

A few beats pass before Klay clears his throat and straightens his shoulders, back to his usual self. “You’re right, of course.” He stabs his fingers through his thick hair and starts across the street, all the while searching the windows of the surrounding houses for movement. “Shall we?”

I stalk forward to keep up with him and soon we’ve made our way around to the back door of Wendy’s house. My dick feels unwieldy and painful in my pants. It pulses with feverish anticipation knowing I’m going to watch Klay and Wendy have sex together. She enjoyed herself with me, so I can’t even imagine her reaction to being with Klay. And I want that. Badly. To see pleasure etched into their features. To watch them strain and buck and moan. It surprises me a little how anxious I am for them to find fulfillment. Almost like it’s a responsibility. The relief of these two people could be my job. My duty. I want it.

It takes Klay less than five seconds to pick the lock of the back door.

The first one, anyway.

Wendy has four locks total, all of them engaged.

“She must really be afraid of the bastard,” Klay remarks with a tight jaw, working his way through the locks with a wire we picked up from a closed hardware store.

“She’s safe with us,” I vow, staring hard at the door.

Finally, Klay manages to get all four locks open and he turns the knob, moving stealthily into the darkness of what appears to be a kitchen, me following behind him. It doesn’t occur to me until this moment that we never considered knocking. “Do you think she’ll be happy to see us?” I whisper to my counterpart.

“I don’t know. But we can’t take the chance of her getting nervous and calling the police.” He doesn’t make a sound as he moves, well-practiced in the art of becoming one with the shadows. “Not until we’ve had a chance to reassure her.”

I’m already nodding. Klay always knows best.

We reach a hallway and follow the light at the end.

Klay hesitates for a few seconds, then steps into the light of her bedroom doorway.

I move forward just in time to watch Wendy jackknife in bed, screaming loud enough to make my ears ring. Klay moves like lightning across the feminine room, pouncing on top of Wendy and covering her mouth. “Lovely to see you, too, sweet cheeks.” He tilts his head. “We’re not going to hurt you. Quite the opposite. We’ve come a long way to make sure you don’t get hurt. If I take my hand away, will you promise not to scream?”

Her eyes fly over to me, widen, then return to Klay.

She makes a sound of fear, but nods and slowly, Klay takes his hand down. After reaching over to turn off the light on her bedside table, he plants his fist in the pillow on the side of her head. With the threat of discovery out of the way, I can finally soak in the sight of Wendy in her thin night shirt, which is currently riding very high on her thighs. I can greedily absorb the long waves of her blonde hair that fan out around her beautifully stunned face. Klay is on top of her, pressing her body down into the mattress and my balls throb in response to the picture they make. Perfection meets perfection.

“H-how did you escape?” Her voice trembles. “How did you find me?”

“Well it took a couple of stabs, but we eventually made our way out through the infirmary where security is far less tight.” He flashes her a grin and her eyelids flutter in response, her breath catching. “Did you know they can access the prison database from the infirmary, including all past visitor information?” Dazedly, she shakes her head. “Very convenient. Of course it took a little coercion to make the nurse log us in, but after that? Piece of cake. And there you were, Wendy O’Casey.”

It’s easy to see that she’s being pulled under his spell. Under the full power of Klay’s attention, she bites her lip, her eyes glazing over. And Klay can’t see this, but her toes are curling into the bedding.

It’s also obvious that she’s determined to fight his magnetism.

“Please leave,” she says, pushing at Klay’s shoulders. “I don’t want you here. What happened between the three of us…it was a mistake. Momentary insanity. I-I was just scared and overwhelmed by the riot and my adrenaline was spiking and—”

“Wendy,” Klay croons, taking hold of her wrists and pinning them above her head, then lowering his open mouth to exhale roughly into the crook of her neck. “You aren’t trying to convince us that you didn’t love every second of your first fuck, are you? We were all there to feel the sweet shake of your thighs. We all heard you whimper through an orgasm.” Klay hits me with a glance where I stand in the bedroom doorway. “Ruger, didn’t she leave a helping of cream all over your big dick?”

“Yes,” I rasp, wetting my lips. Rubbing myself through the fly of my pants.

Klay hums low and long, shifting his lower body against Wendy’s hips.

Her breath catches. Stutters out.

But she still twists, digging her heels into the bed in an attempt to gain her freedom. “I can’t. I c-can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can,” Klay says smoothly, easily keeping her pinned, his mouth raking up and down the side of her neck. “You want me to fuck you, Wendy,” he croons in her ear, his voice dropped to baritone level. “Stop pretending otherwise.”

Her head writhes side to side. “No.”

With a low rumble of frustration, Klay gathers both of her wrists in his left hand. Then he trails the right one down, down between them, shoving his big hand into her panties, his fingers moving in long strokes beneath the white cotton. “You want it. You want to be fucked.”

“I…I…”

It’s obvious when Klay sinks one or more fingers inside of her cunt, because she cries out and now, now I can see his wrist flexing, hand moving inside of her underwear. He’s finger banging her. And I have to grip the doorway or risk my legs giving out, the scene is so erotic. So charged and raw. They are forehead to forehead, both of them panting, Klay’s hand moving relentlessly between her thighs. I don’t know a lot about women, but even I know her resistance isn’t completely authentic. She wants my best friend. Of course she does.

“You want to be ridden now,” Klay says thickly against her mouth. Before she can respond with another protest, he slants his lips over hers. He invades her. Licks his tongue into her mouth—and almost immediately, her pussy starts making wet sounds. It squelches with every pump of Klay’s finger. And slowly, she starts to kiss him back. Hesitantly at first and then she makes a sharp sound of surrender, openly her mouth wide, allowing it to be taken.

Mewling for it. Giving in.

Klay knees her thighs open and presses his fingers deeper, breaking the kiss with an almost stunned expression. “God. God. Tight doesn’t even begin to describe this little pussy.” His intense eyes whip in my direction, knocking the breath out of my lungs. “Ruger. Come over here and take off her panties for me.” While I make my way across the room to the bed, he kisses her long and hard. “We’re going to finish what we started, aren’t we, baby?”

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