Caught by the Convicts

by Jessa Kane

Klay is Day. Ruger is Night.

“You need to keep her,” Ruger says gruffly, meeting his cell mate’s eyes over my head. “Me too. It’s like there’s no choice. She’s…ours.”

And that’s when the quickening begins in my loins.

That is such an old school phrase lol

And somehow Ruger gets deeper. Goes harder. And he does it by gripping the sides of Klay’s jumpsuit to keep him steady for his ferocious drives, yanking him toward us in a furious rhythm—and

...I wonder if they've fucked? Are they a thing??

the way only a childhood friend can do.

Childhood friends turned cell lovers?

my best friend’s agony.

damn it

But after last week when we made eye contact over Wendy’s head while humping her like beasts, a barrier has fallen. We’ve seen each other in the fever pitch of arousal. Some of the mystery is gone and self-consciousness has been taken away along with it.

I'm confused again!

He’s in the fantasy. Behind Wendy. Taking his own pleasure—and somehow that heightens everything. Makes my blood flow in the right direction. I’m satisfied that he is being satisfied

Do I have whiplash?

The moment she walked past the cell, my heart became her lifelong prisoner.

“Ruger, get down on your knees.” I gather the hem of her nightshirt, lifting it in a fist. “Lick her pussy.” As I suspected he would, Ruger drops like a boulder, already panting for the opportunity to get his tongue in her tight little snatch. He presses his opening mouth to her naked mound, his hands shaking as they rake up and down her thighs. “I don’t know how,” he rasps. “How do I make her feel good?”

o.m.g. what a fucken turn on.

I could remain on my knees using my tongue on her every day for eternity and never get tired of licking.

Well. That is quite the statement.