Caught By the Convicts by Jessa Kane
Epilogue
Ruger
Five Years Later
I closemy eyes and listen to the breath rattling in and out of my lungs.
The sound of ocean surf seems distant, even though our house is right on the beach. Klay is out there with Wendy. Swimming. They love to swim, especially in the turquoise waters of Mexico. I’m usually out there with them, reminding them to wear sunscreen, but today is a special day. My birthday. So they’re giving me the gift of a slow tease. Divine torture.
I’ve been roped to this headboard for hours without a stitch of clothing on. A homemade sex tape featuring me, Klay and Wendy plays on the flatscreen. It’s been going for hours, the sounds of moaning and wet smacks filling the airy bedroom. My cock is like a monument pointing straight up from my lap and I’ve about reached my breaking point.
Cracking an eye open, I watch myself ride Klay from behind like a horny beggar, my hips pumping desperately, sweat dripping from my forehead to his back. I’m grunting, keening, grinding out their names in a chant. And all the while, Wendy kneels in front of Klay, stroking his dick, slowly, petting her pussy with the opposite fingers. Watching us with lust and approval and encouragement in her gorgeous eyes.
She leans forward to kiss Klay, but he keeps having to break off to moan.
Because of what I’m doing to him.
Now, I shift my hips on the bed, pulling at the restraints, searching anxiously for some kind of friction or relief, but there’s none to be had. The frustration and anticipation make me hotter, though. Puts a fine sheen of sweat all over my body.
One afternoon a couple of years ago, the three of us discovered how much I love being teased while watching Klay and Wendy fuck. Klay told me he’d let me join if I could watch for twenty minutes without laying a finger on my shaft—and by the time those twenty minutes were up, I was burning alive. We almost broke the bed after that.
The game has escalated a lot since then—as it has today—and I love it. Crave it.
We don’t play it all the time. Our relationship is loving and committed. Equal in all ways. No one is ever left out. No one is ever jealous. We each have an important role. Without one of us, the balance would be off. And the love we have for each other only grows stronger with each passing year here on the beach.
After the night Wendy torched her childhood home, we went back to her house, packed her things and drove to Mexico. From there, she sold her house and invested in our bungalow on the beach. She works as a manager at a nearby boutique hotel, which comes very highly rated, due in part to the signature scent given to each room. Sometimes me and Klay worry she misses her old job in scent branding, because she operated on a much larger scale, but she always finds a way to reassure us.
My whole heart is here. With you. My men.
I covet this life and I’ll never wish for a second to be anywhere else.
I hear Wendy’s voice saying those words and I sigh warmly, trying to will her into the doorway. Her and Klay. I need their mouths and hands on my skin. Did someone turn up the volume on the television? I can’t tell if the sound of panting is coming from me or the speakers—
“Had enough, mate?” Klay asks, sauntering into the room, board shorts riding low on his hips, his skin bronzed from the sun—as is mine—thanks to our job taking tourists out on chartered fishing tours. When we arrived in Mexico, neither one of us knew a damn thing about fishing, but Klay faked it until he made it, getting us jobs as crew members on a vessel. When we’d made enough cash and knew the trade, we bought the boat and started running tours ourselves. We spend our days on the water now, in the wheelhouse together, usually plotting out how we’ll make Wendy moan when we arrive back on land.
Speaking of our woman, she glides into the room in nothing but a white bikini bottom, her tits jiggling with every step. A strangled groan escapes me at the sight, precome dribbling down the side of my erection. “Please,” I manage through my teeth.
“Mmmm.” Klay picks up the remote and turns off the television, leaving the room quiet, except for the ocean waves and my labored breathing. “He said please, Wendy.”
“I heard him,” she purrs, walking her fingertips up my inner thigh. “So polite.”
Klay rubs himself through his shorts and I watch hungrily, hips shifting, my gaze bouncing back and forth between him and Wendy. “Or he would be, if his cock wasn’t leaking everywhere,” Klay drawls. “Maybe he needs a little longer before we give him his birthday present.”
“No,” I protest, even as excitement races up and down my spine. “Please—"
Before I can get the word out, Klay has drawn Wendy into his arms. He’s kissing her, his right hand down the back of her bikini bottoms, massaging her delectable cheeks. While looking at me, he continues to kiss her, yanking down the bathing suit and slapping the taut flesh.
Oh fuck, oh fuck, he knows I love it when he spanks her.
Especially because she aches for that crack of his palm.
She whimpers now, writhing closer to Klay’s body, but he grips the back of her neck, turns her around to face me and angles her face down over the bed, delivering another slap to her butt. Another. Another. Her eyes are on me, glazed with arousal, blonde hair in a tumble around her shoulders, lips swollen, her cries turning sweeter every time Klay spanks her ass.
Our woman needs satisfaction. So do I.
We’re well past the breaking point.
My hips rear off the bed. “Please.”
Klay’s chest shudders up and down as he twists Wendy’s hair in a fist, blessedly guiding her mouth toward my lap. Her mouth hasn’t even reached me yet and I’m already groaning, pumping my hips crudely. “Suck him so sweet, baby,” Klay murmurs. “Make him grateful to be a man just so he has a cock to put in your perfect mouth.”
Wendy’s breath stutters out, her lips pausing right over the head of my swollen tip. “Just me, Klay?” She dips her mouth down over me, enveloping the top third of my dick in warmth, my balls tightening with pressure. Agony. I yank on the restraints. I’m almost too lost in my lust to register what Wendy said. Just me, Klay? Does that mean…
My pulse turns erratic as Klay lets go of Wendy’s hair and gets down on his belly, on the opposite side of my body than Wendy. He watches up close as she sinks my inches into her mouth, further and further until I hit the resistance of her throat. Is he going to…
No.
No, he lets me go down on him, but never the reverse. He loves directing Wendy to do it—and obviously, so do I. I’m never unsatisfied for a single second.
Klay, though…his mouth on me there? I’ve never even hoped for such a thing.
But when Wendy pops me free of her lips this time, Klay looks me right in the eye and sucks me hard into the recesses of his mouth, pulling deeply and slowly on the way back up, his throat vibrating with his pleased groan. My heart slams into my eardrums, the muscles of my stomach knitting together, signaling the end. No, no, no. I yank on my restraints and hold on tight, breath slicing in and out, watching through a haze of lust as Klay gets into a rhythm, his lips riding up and down the thick stalk of my cock, Wendy watching with building excitement, her fingers working between her thighs. Wetting herself for us.
“Klay…” The room spins around me. “Wendy.”
Klay wraps two hands around me, jerking and twisting me toward his mouth and I dig my heels into the bed, the headboard groaning under the strain of my constant pulling. I’m speaking in gibberish, Wendy is kissing my hips and thighs comfortingly and Klay…he’s going to bring me off. Of fuck, he’s going to bring me off. I’m going to come so hard—
He takes his mouth away at the last second.
I growl a curse at the ceiling, sweat dripping down the sides of my face. “Fuck. Fuck!”
With a smirk tilting his lips, Klay grips Wendy around the waist, lifting her up and settling her on my lap, her bathing suit bottoms gone, leaving her totally, beautifully bare from head to toe. I grit my teeth as Klay guides my throbbing cock to her wet cunt and settles her right on top of it. “Ride him,” he grits out, slapping her ass. “Let’s see how long he can last inside that tight little pussy.”
Biting her lip, Wendy slowly slides her knees wide, her body taking me inside in degrees, her mouth opening in ecstasy the further she gets to housing all of me. And God, God, she is so tight. No matter how many ways or how often we fuck her, her cunt is like goddamn elastic, bouncing right back to its original shape. She whines my name and wiggles down, her hands flat on my chest, her sun-kissed tits tempting me from above. “You fill me so perfectly,” she says haltingly, falling forward to kiss my mouth, her little hips starting to work me in and out of her narrow cunt. “I’m such a lucky girl, getting to play with the birthday boy.”
I can’t even respond because she’s bouncing on me now, filling my shaft with unimaginable pleasure and hypnotizing me with her jiggling rack. And then Klay is behind Wendy, devouring her neck in a kiss, pressing her down more securely on top of me. Her tits are buried in my chest, our mouth mating frantically, her body jolting when Klay uncaps a bottle, pours a good helping of liquid onto Wendy’s back entrance and fills her ass.
She breaks our kiss with a whimper.
She’s trapped between her men.
Impaled by us both.
At our mercy, where we like her.
Klay meets my eyes over her shoulder and we trade a nod, simultaneously thrusting into her like savages, beating up her tight, wet pussy and asshole, grunting our pleasure, leaving bite marks on her skin, the bed loudly scraping back and forth on the floor.
Best birthday ever.
I don’t realize I’ve said the words out loud until Klay says, “You haven’t even gotten your present yet.”
I’m pretty sure I have, because I’m in bed with the two most incredible people in the world, so I scoff. “Yes, I have.”
“No,” Wendy says, licking into my mouth for a kiss, then pulling away just enough to lock me in her sights. “I stopped taking my birth control, Ruger.” She works her hips faster, faster, Klay bucking into her from above, his face contorted with desperation. “You’re going to breed me. You’re going to be the father of our child.”
My heart shoots up into my throat, my head reeling from her declaration. “What? Me? No, it should be Klay—”
“No,” she whispers against my lips.
“No,” Klay echoes from above, shaking his head.
The writhes of her hips slow down slightly, turning into more of a wet grind. “We want him or her to have your heart,” Wendy says quietly, such warmth in her tone that I can’t force a swallow. “You’ll fill me up, Ruger. You’ll make us a family.”
Purpose like I’ve never known expands my chest and my body makes the decision before my mind reaches one, my hips driving up off the bed, slapping my big cock into Wendy, Klay and Wendy shining their love down on me as I hit a mind-blowing completion. Klay shoves Wendy’s hips down and holds her still while I moan brokenly, pressure exiting my body in a mad rush. Halfway through my orgasm, Klay gets so turned on that he starts pounding again, his fingers sneaking around to rub Wendy’s clit—and they both follow me over the edge.
“I love you,” I manage around the emotion in my throat. “I love you both so much.”
Klay and Wendy settle on either side of me, arms and legs wrapping around bodies to keep one another as close as possible. Forever. Forming one unit that will never be broken. “We love you, too,” they murmur at the same time, all three of us drifting off to the lulling rhythm of the ocean, our future brighter than the Mexican sun.
THE END
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