“That’s feels so fucking good, Christopher,” I said loudly, enjoying the feel of being able to express myself.
He moved, pounding his rigid flesh into me fast and hard. “Say my name again,” he demanded.
“Christopher,” I moaned.
“Louder!” he growled, his body picking up the pace and slamming into me.
The room filled with the sounds of our sex. Our bodies coming together so roughly that our skin echoed off each other. His musty scent filled my nostrils, mixed with the sweat of our lovemaking and the moisture of our bodies. It was potent… strong just like his thrusts.
“Christopher,” I screamed. My orgasm climbed up my skin, making me go tense.
“This is mine,” he grunted. “You’re mine.” With each word, he thrust deeper and deeper into me, pulling loud groans of pleasure from my lips.
My fingers twisted into the blanket at my side as I braced myself for the onslaught of pleasure that was teetering on the edge.
And then I shattered.
He pumped me, pulling my orgasm out of me loudly. The slide of his body in mine slickened as my inner muscles tightened around him, holding him inside me. My legs cramped and my toes curled into the mattress.
He didn’t stop. Reaching under my shoulders, his fingers tangled into the hair on the back of my head, putting his chest flat against my own. His hips bucked, the only part of his body that was still moving, and he pushed me directly into another fall.
My cries filled the room as I begged. Happy tears sprang to my eyes, rolling down the sides of my face and escaping into my hairline.
He panted against my lips, trying to kiss me but not having enough breath to do so.
His body going rigid, he came long and hard, his growl of pleasure filling my room and vibrating against my chest. Resting his forehead against my shoulder, his hot breath bathed my skin.
His weight lifted from me, and he fell to my side, pulling me into his arms. He pushed my sweat-soaked hair from my face and planted a soft kiss against my cheek. “I love you so much, Lyla,” he whispered, brushing another curl from my face.
His eyes devoured mine, making me his own personal prisoner. His tenderness was different this time. It wasn’t raw and untapped passion. It was gentle, timid, and reassuring.
Palming his cheek, my finger glided along the stubble on his jaw. “I love you, too, Christopher.”
And I did. So much. It was unexpected. I hadn’t walked into Fulton knowing I’d fall in love with an inmate, but I had. Now I was lying in bed with him, knowing he was an escaped convict, but also knowing with all my heart that he was innocent of everything but loving me.
He reached behind him and grabbed my blanket, covering us and enveloping me in the warmth of his body. I’d never felt more safe. I’d never felt more loved.
I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, knowing that things were about to change for me. Knowing that I’d do whatever it took to keep him, even if I had to run away with him.
CHAPTER 27
x
THE SUN SLID through the blinds, cutting the room into lines of light. That was what life was when I was with Lyla… light. Everything glowed. Everything was brandished in happiness. It made me sad to think that once I knew she was safe, I’d have to return to Fulton.
I wasn’t a runner, and even though I knew it was going to kill me to leave Lyla, I had to go back. I had to face my responsibilities. Escaping meant there was probably no way I was going to get off, even if they did find me innocent. But after spending time with Lyla outside the cinderblock walls, facing life in prison seemed so much harder than before.
I’d already survived ten years, but I wasn’t sure I could continue inside. It was different knowing what was waiting for me outside. And who was to say she’d even wait. She deserved a life, and sitting around waiting for me wasn’t living. She deserved a family—kids and the white picket fence. I couldn’t give her those things. No matter how badly I wanted to, I just couldn’t.
She rolled into me, a soft smile on her plump lips. For just a second, I debated taking her and running. We could do it. We could leave and never look back. She’d do that for me. I could see in her eyes every time she looked at me, but again, what kind of life was that for her?
Could I be that selfish?
I smiled down at her, letting my fingers slide over her perfect skin. She was magnificent. Her disheveled hair was spread over her pillow and across my arm, tickling my skin. Last night’s eyeliner was smeared on the sides of her eyes, reminding me of the pleasure tears she’d shed the night before.
We’d made love practically all night. Once I’d even woken up inside her as she rode me, my fingers digging unconsciously into her hips. The best moments of my life included her. They were condensed into a few months that I knew I’d have to keep alive in my memories for the rest of my life.