Bishop's Queen

by Cristin Harber

  “More, Bishop.”

  “Trust me. I’ve got you.” Deftly, he brushed his fingers between her legs, urging her thighs wider with a whisper soft touch.

  She panted. “More of that.”

  He delved two fingers along the seam of her slick juncture, and she grinded against him.

  “Yes, yes. That, yes.”

  He growled as his tongue forced her mouth open when his fingers speared her tight entrance, knuckles deep. Ella’s most sensitive muscles gripped. A gasp fell from her lips, and he claimed it with a soul-stealing kiss as he withdrew and slowly sank his fingers in again. “I’m going to do this all night long. Slow and steady.”

  “No. I need more, please.” But she thrashed and tightened.

  Slow and steady was his plan, no changing that. As though twisting a vice, Bishop worked her until she couldn’t take any more, then he pressed his thumb to her clit, circling the tight bundle of nerves. She threw her head back, clamped her legs down, and cried his name.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Trust the man. Ella had screamed for him to hurry up, and he forced her to wait—hallelujah. They hadn’t had sex yet, but that was a top-ten orgasm.

  He’d had her hanging onto her sanity by a fingernail since he walked in all tuxed out. This was so much more.

  Arms numb, lips tingling, and mind spinning, she wouldn’t let a climax-coma slow them down. She needed more of him, more of everything, and it had been too long since she’d had anything from Bishop.

  “Damn, El.” His hungry eyes burned, and his chin dropped as he took in her bare body recovering from the ricochets. “You’re… perfect.”

  “Oh, be quiet.”

  “I’m glad you can still take a compliment.”

  The reminder that he knew her so well squeezed her racing heart. Instead of finding words to acknowledge the truth, she pushed up to taste his kiss again.

  He didn’t move. Didn’t open his mouth for more. But a growl, a groan collided against her lips in the minute fraction of space of their almost kiss.

  Ella pulled back. What had Bishop expected? For her to take her climax and run to bed? Go nod off to sleep? No, thank you.

  His green eyes had her mesmerized, making a fever run rapid down her spine. He’d never made a decision that wasn’t in her best interest. Was this him, offering her security and safety? Holding back until she gave whatever green light he might deem appropriate?

  Ella shivered.

  “Cold?” he asked.

  “No.” Her breath shook, and she pressed her mouth to his again, needing everything he could give her. Not a kiss, more like a touch she couldn’t stay away from, and she whispered against his skin, “Don’t stop now. I already explicitly explained what I wanted.”

  He tore the towel from underneath her and quickly sat her upright. Ella put her legs on either side of his black-pants-covered thighs.

  “That’s better,” she said. “Cut the good guy routine.”

  Bishop flexed his cock against her and dropped a kiss on her lips that possessed her soul. His tongue slid, and he sucked hers until her core clenched.

  “Promise.” He bit her lip. “Nothing good guy is coming from me.”

  Her reward was a hand threaded possessively into her hair, knotting its hold. His other arm wrapped around her waist.

  “Thank you.”

  He pressed her to his bare chest, letting her breasts sway against his smattering of light chest hair. God in heaven, he was built like a wall. Solid as a mountain, skin as hot as a fiery day.

  “I like your muscles, Muscles,” she breathed against his cheek, letting his five o’clock shadow scrape roughly.

  “I like your mouth, Crazy.” He flicked her lip with his tongue, lapping it with a gentle kiss.

  Ella’s nipples were so tight they hurt, and she rubbed them over his course chest hair. The sensation had her rocking against his hard-on. Delirious for more friction, more Bishop, she let her nails dig into his biceps. “You still have on pants.”

  “We’ll let me be in charge.”

  She bit his bottom lip like he’d just done to her, tugging it with her teeth, then letting go and kissing it sweetly.

  “Trying to leave a mark?” He tugged her hair lightly, exposing her neck.

  She gasped, the vulnerability and control making her desperate to submit. “Maybe.”

  He pulled her hair again and sucked behind her earlobe. “Two can play that game.”

  Wriggling and feeling the sting of her hair being pulled as she moved, she couldn’t get away and never wanted it to stop. “God, Bishop.”

  “You like that?” His tongue licked down to her collarbone and back. “Because I love that sound.”

  “What”—she gasped—“sound?”

  He chuckled again then raked his teeth where his tongue had just run. “Do you know how wet you were for me?”

  “Bishop,” she whimpered. They had never been that direct when they were younger. Now they’d both said things they wouldn’t have dreamed of back then. Just thinking the words were erotic, but to experience this? She could hardly stand it.

  “Just for my fingers, babe? Soaking.”

  Her cheeks burned as he crooned the truth. So hot, and she was still as wet as she had been.

  “Do you want more than that, Ella?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “You want my cock?”

  “Yes,” she murmured, drunk on the idea. “But it’s not fair. You’re still in pants.”

  “I don’t care.” He rubbed her thighs straddled over him. “You need me in charge.”

  Hell, Bishop didn’t just stare. He devoured. He consumed. His gaze did a million things. It was slow and sweeping, stealing her breath and making her feel like the most revered woman who had ever walked the planet she loved so much.

  “And I need that too, El.”

  “I’m the only one naked, Bishop.” She tried again, her voice shaking. “Let me unbutton your pants.”

  He licked his lips and placed strong hands on her thighs.

  “You don’t want to?” she asked.

  “That’s not it.”

  Ah, there they were. The problem. Or problems. But mostly, she’d left him. Or was it that she was a job now? Hours ago, she would have cringed, but somehow, knowing that at least he wanted her as much as she wanted him made the Should they? Shouldn’t they? conversation more an intellectual one, and less an emotional one. Ella tried to find reason in what he might be thinking and came up empty. They were both turned on with too much baggage and a legitimate reason to go to bed.

  “Somewhere along the line, I think I was going to tell you not much had changed”—she motioned between their naked chests—“with us in bed.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  “But,” she continued. “You’ve got some pretty rock-star moves.”

  His face froze for a moment before he threw his head back and laughed. “I had rock star moves before.”

  “No woman on the planet has come like I just did.”

  “I made you come like that before.”

  She kissed his cheek, and his hand gripped her chin, redirecting her lips onto his. “Maybe.”

  “Don’t rewrite history.” He kissed her back, reminding her that there may have been truth to his statement.

  So they were semi-naked and kissing. Why did he still have pants on? “It was a long time ago.”

  Bishop trailed his fingertips down her spine. “True.”

  “We were younger.” Screw it. She wanted him naked, so she was getting him naked. He could pull all the alpha-in-charge BS later. She unfastened the top button of his pants, taking extra care to stroke him as she did.

  His eyes slipped shut, and he leaned back in his chair. “You sure, Elo—Ella?”

  She dropped her chin, hating that sadness had unexpectedly crept into place. Ella had replaced Eloise as much as she had run away from Bishop. Even hearing the name hurt. Bishop had never been a guy to shy away from owning his feelings.
Until it had ended. Until they couldn’t stand being together when they’d needed each other.

  “El?”

  Smiling to cover up where her mind had gone, she didn’t want it to ruin what was here and now—something that felt amazing and had saved a crappy day. “Sorry.”

  “It slipped,” he said, referencing the almost name. “Happens sometimes, but I’m catching myself.”

  What could she say? Before she had cut and run, they’d both realized they wouldn’t talk about his sister. Ella had left him mentally before she had literally—just stopped talking to him. Ella, the girl now who couldn’t live without the phone in her hand and talked nonstop to strangers, which he had to be painfully aware of, hadn’t been able to talk to him when he’d probably needed her the most.

  No wonder his pants were still on. She categorically sucked as a human being, forget how she ranked as a girlfriend.

  Ella bit her lip, lost in her thoughts, when he rubbed his hands on her arms.

  “Come back to me,” he half-joked.

  She dragged her mind back to reality, to the man that deserved better, who sat in front of her. Maybe she’d been a pain in his side since they reconnected in order to avoid this exact moment. Putting him in her Smart Car? She cringed. Bishop was too good for her. How he wasn’t married with a brood of babies, she didn’t know. Oh yeah. She’d literally chased him off to war.

  Well hell…

  Bishop dropped his head back and sighed. “You want to get dressed?”

  This would be even more awkward than she’d thought, and they hadn’t even had sex. Her heart sank as she slid back.

  “Nope.” Bishop caught her wrist. “No. No way, Crazy.”

  “No, what?”

  He pulled her closer. “You can’t give me sad eyes like I’m the one who doesn’t want to.”

  “You’re a guy. You always want to.” But did he really? His pants were still on.

  He scoffed. “You know me better than that when it comes to you.”

  Visions of his restraint, of his walking away, of his offers to find a replacement after she kissed him replayed in her head. She couldn’t explain what she understood.

  “What I want to know”—he grabbed the towel, covering her shoulders as though that was what needed covering, then dropped his palms to her bare waist—“is why do you, did you, say all that tonight? About us hooking up?”

  Her mouth moved, but nothing intelligent came out, just something that sounded similar to “Ah-um…”

  “Old times’ sake?” His dull green eyes narrowed. “Or was it just needing something to get over this stalker shit?”

  He had to have known that wasn’t why she would do this.

  “Okay, okay.” He smiled and shrugged. “That was an awkward question. We’ll just go with I’m a stud, you’re attracted to me, horny as hell and—”

  “Bishop!” When he broke down his uber-serious routine, his funny-guy act killed and made her laugh. She batted his chest, and he laughed too.

  “Seriously, Ella.” He caught her hand and threaded his fingers into hers. “You’ve been scared, and I’m your security blanket. It’s all good. Okay?”

  The towel didn’t cover anything, and the vulnerability of this conversation exposed her more than spreading her legs. She stared over his shoulder, letting her gaze drift to the carpet.

  “El, look at me.”

  “I’d rather not.” It would be much easier to keep the rawness inside, where he couldn’t get first-hand knowledge of it.

  “Ella,” he growled.

  She jumped, and their eyes locked.

  “I will always keep you safe, babe.”

  Her eyes bugged. “I know.”

  “Good.” He squeezed her hand. “Go get dressed. I still like to spoon.” He shifted. “We’ll, I don’t know, order room service and watch movies until you fall asleep.”

  Again, her heart tumbled, and her eyes brimmed with tears she didn’t want to explain to him. Mostly because she couldn’t.

  “El—”

  She kissed him—hard—with everything she had pent up. The heartache from leaving him too long ago. The disappointment from not chasing him down. The panic that had surged when she saw him at Titan for the first time. And the fear that he was pushing her away now.

  Tears slipped down her cheeks, and he kissed her back, gripping her face and holding her as if she would run.

  She wiped her eyes and put her palms over his hands, panting as she stopped kissing him. “Please get undressed with me. Take off your stupid pants.”

  He nodded, letting their hands fall to the side, then he lifted Ella up and on her feet as her towel fell. Bishop stood, removed the remainder of his clothes, then took a condom from his wallet and placed it on a side table. “There. Now I’m naked with you.”

  Warmth hit her cheeks. “About time.”

  She sniffled. How unbelievably not sexy was that? God. She laughed, covering her face, but then she peeked between her fingers to see him smiling. When he did that, she was sure angels sighed. He was breathtaking, and now that he was naked, every muscle was on display. He was lean and corded, bulked and shredded, statuesque… and well-hung. Her face had turned magenta, and he took it in stride, even as she gawked and blushed, and would likely have to find her eyeballs on the floor.

  Bishop took her hand. “All right, back to our chair.”

  “You want to do dirty things to me on this chair?” Ella giggled because she couldn’t think straight. She was an overly exhausted, emotional basket case, dealing with the past and present. Silliness was the only thing her mind could comprehend at the moment.

  Bishop’s eyes had intensified. “I want to do dirty things to you everywhere.”

  Her stomach catapulted and would’ve kept spinning, but he yanked her back onto his lap.

  “Where did we leave off?”

  “I think—”

  “You were just kissing me.”

  She nodded.

  “Rock-star kiss.”

  Ella smiled. “You think so?”

  “Try me again, babe. Just to be sure.”

  “That was an emotional kiss.” She rolled her eyes. “Spontaneous things like that can’t be replicated.”

  “Christ. You live to challenge me.” He grabbed her face and gave her a repeat performance of her emo-kiss, minus her tears. His tongue danced with hers; his mouth consumed and devoured her in a way that made her core clench with every devastating sweep of his kiss.

  His well-hung dick rubbed against her inner thigh and between her legs where she grew slick again. As he hardened, Bishop ran his hands into her hair, pulling just enough to make her moan into his mouth, beg into his kiss. Ella arched her back and rocked against his cock. Thick and swollen for her, he flexed his hips up and stroked his shaft against her wetness, teasing her clit as he spread her folds.

  “I’m no longer challenging you.” Legs spread wide over his thighs, arms draped on his shoulders, she leaned forward so that their foreheads pressed together.

  Bishop wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. “You feel good.” His lips moved to her neck, his tongue licking its way to her earlobe. He gave it a tiny, sharp bite. “You have no idea how good it feels just to stroke against you.”

  She slid her palms to his pecs. The rapid beat of his heart urged her on. “I need more.” Her thumbs outlined the dark disks of his hard nipples, and he sucked in a deep breath at the touch. “You like that?”

  His chest rumbled, and the head of his cock teased her opening before sliding forward again. “Do it again.”

  She did, and he grabbed her ass so tightly, so possessively that she almost climaxed. Ella rubbed against his shaft, gasping at the deep sensations of pain and pleasure, want and need. “God.”

  “One of my favorite memories of you”—his rough grip moved to her waist and squeezed her hips—“was how you would slide down on my cock. Tight.” His chest heaved. “Slow. Like you couldn’t.”

  That was how
it had felt. Bishop stretching into her, thick and long, beautiful and strong. She remembered all those years ago. “But I did.” Her words caught. “And I loved it.” Because she had loved him.

  “Eyes open, Ella.”

  She didn’t realize they were closed. “I thought of you. Before. After you and I… we were apart. Remembering how you felt.”

  “How did I feel?” His voice graveled, and his fingers flexed, rocking her back and forth, riding her against him.

  Her juices coated his cock. Without searching back for the memory, she was aroused. But thinking about him pressing into her? A weight wrapped around her ribcage, tightening, strumming her to a whole new level of OMG.

  “That first touch, that first thrust.” Her breathy whispers were nothing more than a gasp of words, but he heard them and shut his eyes.

  “Open your eyes, Bishop.”

  “Hell of a feeling.” He reached for the condom, tore it open, and scooted her back.

  The moment she lost contact, her body inwardly cried despite the fact that he had separated them to sheath himself. Her mouth watered as he stroked himself once before rolling on protection.

  His gaze lifted, one hand cupping her hip, and Ella moved over his shaft. She guided the crown to her opening. Gently, delicately, his other hand splayed on her thigh. Patience and desire colored his face. “Easy…”

  Ella sighed as he inched inside her. His erection stole her breath and seared her lungs. Foreplay and fun had readied her, but his intrusion would always be demanding. Bishop O’Kane had a big fucking cock.

  She withdrew and took more of him, and his jaw flexed. “God, Bishop.”

  Again with the visible restraint, yet his soft fingers didn’t dig in, didn’t demand more. She loved that about him, how in control of himself he was—body and mind.

  Following his gaze, they watched her body swallow his shaft, letting her arousal coat him as she paused. The stretch was nice and worthy of so many late-night memories. Ella pressed down on him again, and Bishop thrust up.

  Her fingernails bit into his chest. “Yes.”

  His gruff breath fell in time with hers. He wrapped her into a bear hug and began to thrust up until her head fell back. Lost in euphoria, she let him take over.