Beautifully Mine

by Tara Lee

  I learn over the bench in the kitchen. My body heaves with exhaustion, and a feeling of calmness washes over me.

  They got what they deserved. They deserved to die.

  “Bishop?” Worry laces Callie’s voice as her arms wrap around me.

  “Oh my God.” She searches me for wounds, opening my shirt, checking my skin.

  The blood soaked through, leaving a red coating over my skin.

  “Are you hurt?”

  Callie’s fingers trace over my body, reaching for my jaw, forcing me to look at her. I know even after watching Callie would have tuned so much out. She’d flinched a couple times but she’d gone right back to watching as I’d tortured each and every man who hurt her.

  My hands glide to her ass, cupping her underneath and hoisting her on the bench.

  Fuck, her ass.

  My lips capture hers, and my fingers trail over her silky skin. My tongue fights against hers until she’s breathless.

  Sliding her panties, aside feeling the wetness meet my fingers, I groan when she whimpers, arching her back.

  Using my other hand, I lean over her pulling her closer to me. She bites down on my lip, and I grunt, my cock twitching.

  “Fuck, piccolina.” I moan against her lips.

  Callie’s fingers twist through my hair. I free and take hold of my cock, my fingers digging into her skin as I slam inside her.

  “Bishop.” She moans, and her arms wrap around my neck.

  I power into her, needing a release.

  Callie kisses me, her tongue stroking mine. I taste her, worshipping her like the queen she fucking is.

  Her hips meet mine with every thrust. Pleasure creeps down my spine, making my thrusts harder.

  I watch her features tighten. Her nails dig into my skin. We’re panting, too lost in our own world to care.

  Callie lifts her legs around my waist, my cock sinking deeper if that's even possible.

  I yank down her shirt, latching on to her tight nipple; fucking braless.

  “Come for me, brat, come over that cock.”

  Callie convulses under me, pushing her body up against mine. She holds on to me, biting down on my neck as I spill inside her.

  “Fuuuccckkkk,” I roar and give her everything.

  Callie leans on my chest, my fingers tangling in her hair.

  My heart is beating so fast, I don’t know how I finally start to breathe again.

  My forehead rests against hers, and we catch our breath. Callie finally realizes where she is.

  “Oh God.” She smacks her forehead.

  Pulling away from me, she fixes her top. I sulk a little, dropping my lip.

  “Bishop we just had sex on the kitchen bench, where the staff are.”

  I look around, knowing full well the staff went invisible the second I lifted her on the bench.

  “Baby, do you really think I’d pull your nipple out for the staff to see?”

  Cocking an eyebrow, she just hides behind her hands, embarrassed.

  “And for your information, we fucked.”

  “What.” She giggles as I fix myself and make sure her panties are back in place, even though I know she will be dripping with me the moment she stands.

  “We fucked, piccolina.”

  I give her a chaste kiss, and she wraps her arms around my neck.

  “Well, Mr. Demetrius. I’m really ready to fuck my husband now.”

  She squeals when I lift her in the air and throw her over my shoulder.

  “Your wish is my command, piccolina.”

  Seeing Bishop covered from head to toe in blood, knowing it’s theirs, the men who hurt me, makes me feel things my body has no right to feel.

  But as soon as Bishop kissed me, I couldn’t stop it.

  I’ve lost all control.

  I’ve given this man my heart, and nothing will come between us now.

  Finding out the baby is okay, that I didn’t lose it... Tears fill my eyes, knowing it could have been worse.

  Those men could have taken the most precious thing from me.

  The way Bishop gets when he loses control excites me in a way that I can’t explain.

  Today I will finally become his wife. Bishop had given me time to heal and said he would get me as much help as it would take. The thought of talking to a stranger doesn't appeal to me. I know I’ve been through something traumatic and that it will take time to heal.

  I’m not blind to that. I just don’t like the idea of sitting down with a complete stranger to talk about what I went through. I would rather forget it ever happened.

  Megan is doing my makeup, making me feel pampered while Philomena makes my hair look flawless with soft curls cascading down my back.

  Bishop told me they were at my disposal and not just for the wedding.

  I sigh, it dawns on me that in just over an hour Bishop will be standing at the end of the aisle at the altar, waiting for me.

  “Oh my God, Callie.”

  Luna’s squeals make me swing around, seeing my best friend standing in the doorway looking gorgeous in a pale-blue dress that hugs every curve that girl has.

  Tears fill her eyes as she races toward me, wrapping me in her arms.

  “No crying, remember.” Luna dabs under her eyes, trying not to cry, but it is no use, she has ruined her makeup.

  She shakes her head as if that will stop the tears.

  “Thank you,” I murmur, pulling my friend in for another hug.

  “I’m just glad you're okay.”

  Squeezing me tightly, Luna doesn’t let go for what seems like hours.

  Breaking the hug, I stand tall and guide Luna to the chair I just vacated.

  “Could you please make her look flawless,” I tell Megan and Philomena.

  They both smile and start on Luna.

  “Callie. This is your day, not mine,” she protests.

  “Well, I want my friend to look smoking, so that her husband’s jaw drops to the ground when he sees how hot his wife is.” I wink.

  Luna giggles while a soft knock has me going to the door.

  “Wait.” Luna spins around.

  ‘What?”

  “If that’s Bishop, he’s not allowed to see you before you walk down the aisle. It’s bad luck.”

  I wave Luna off, opening the door to my soon-to-be husband looking so edible in black pants and a matching black tee.

  Pretty sure my mouth waters at the sight of him.

  “Bishop.” Luna moans.

  “I said I will see her in her dress, Luna, I never promised I will see her without it.”

  Bishop yanks me to his chest, making me squeak, cupping my face. His lips crush to me as if he’s tasting me.

  He growls and pulls away, leaving me panting and so very wet for him.

  “Fuck, I can’t wait to make you mine, piccolina.”

  “I’ve always been yours,”

  I murmur.

  His hand slips under my shirt, caressing my hip bone. His fingers are skilled as they stroke me just enough to leave me a horny mess.

  Bishop looks like the Devil himself dressed all in black, like the darkness of his soul.

  “Can’t we just slip away,” I whisper, leaning into Bishop.

  He chuckles. “Be careful what you wish for, baby.”

  “Don’t even think about it, you two. Behave,” Luna scolds us like we’re children.

  “Yes, Mom.” I say, laughing.

  Bishop grabs my hand, twirling my ring around my finger.

  “You still want to marry me even after...” Fear sparks in Bishop’s eyes.

  He's asked me this every day since he came to me covered in blood. I mean, it’s not the first time I’ve seen him this way.

  Grabbing his face so he looks straight into my eyes, I say,

  “I know marrying you is the easiest decision I’ve ever made.” I kiss his jaw, loving the soft beard he has grown.

  Bishop growls, hooking an arm around my waist.

  “You know what this means
, right?”

  I nod, knowing as soon as I become his wife, becoming Mrs. Demetrius, I truly become his Bishop and will own me. I will be his for eternity.

  “Ti amo, piccolina.- I love you, little one,” he whispers, kissing the pulse in my neck.

  “Ti amo, Il mio re.- I love you, my king.”

  My heart pounds with desire for this man. Bishop walks away, turning at the last second, winking and giving me a look that says ‘you are so copping it later.’

  Luna shakes her head at me as I sit, folding my legs under me on the bed.

  “I’m really happy for you, babe, you deserve to be treated like a queen.”

  I sigh dreamily, and Megan comes over to fix my makeup.

  Luna snorts as I try to hide my smile.

  “You have it so bad.”

  “Like you don’t?”

  She just shrugs and lets Philomena continue on her hair.

  In the back of my head, I fear something else will stop me from marrying Bishop.

  I mean, we were supposed to get married already.

  “You okay?” Luna frowns over at me with concern.

  “Yeah, just thinking.”

  “Callie, that man loves you.”

  I smile over at my best friend.

  “I know, I’m just concerned that we’ll always be fighting for our love, you know?”

  Walking over to me, Luna takes my hand in hers when she sits next to me on the bed.

  “No love ever comes easy, Cals, you always have to fight for it. But you and Bishop have something special, even if it had some bumps in the start. He adores you, and I know he will stop at nothing to protect you.”

  I nod, feeling silly.

  “You’re right, I guess these hormones are playing havoc on my emotions.”

  She cuddles onto my shoulder while we hold each other.

  “You are going to be the best mother, babe.”

  Philomena holds my dress up silently saying its time.

  I sigh, feeling very anxious all of a sudden.

  “Okay.” Luna stands, pulling me with her.

  “Time to get you married, because I can totally see Bishop breaking down this door if you don’t walk out there soon. That man is on a mission, and I don’t want to be the reason you are late to your own wedding.”

  Staring at my reflection in the full length mirror, Luna has tears in her eyes which she is trying desperately to hold back.

  My princess-cut gown makes me look like I’m floating. The tulle hangs heavily at my feet, giving off a Cinderella vibe, and the soft flowers that work their way up the bodice, mixing with the sparkles that are sewn into the material, make me truly feel like a princess.

  “You look so beautiful, Bishop won't know what hit him,” she says through soft sobs.

  Closing my eyes, taking one final breath, I pick up my bouquet of white roses and open the door to my new future.

  The last thing I ever expected was for my own father to become a traitor, but as I currently wait for my bride to walk down the aisle, my father is awaiting my wrath in my basement.

  I know Callie won’t want me working on our wedding day, so I’ll give my father one more day to live, but come tomorrow, he has some explaining to do before I end his life for good. I won't stand for traitors, least of all my own damn father.

  “Man, you need to take some deep breaths, because if Callie walks out and sees you look like you want to rip someone's head off, it will ruin her day,” Ethan whispers from the corner of his mouth.

  He’s right.

  I slowly unclench my fists that have become tight with how hard I was trying not to hit something right now.

  “Better?”

  He smirks at me, knowing this is eating at me. He was in the room with me when Brantley came in announcing they’d found a traitor in our midst and that the person was the reason Boris got to Callie so easily.

  What I never expected in a million years was for that traitor to be my father.

  “Dude,” Ethan whispers again.

  Music starts to play, and I watch as Callie and Luna walk side by side, arms linked. Luna guides my bride toward me.

  When Callie told me she wanted her best friend to walk her down the aisle, I told her I thought it was a brilliant idea.

  You can tell there have been some tears. Both girls' eyes are a little red, but the way Callie is smiling at me right now beats anything I’ve ever witnessed.

  Callie finally pauses in front of me. I take both her hands and hold them in front of us.

  “Fuck, piccolina.” I groan.

  The priest next to me clears his throat. Ignoring him, I stare at how fucking perfect my bride is.

  Leaning forward, just so Callie can hear me, I say.

  “I’m going to fuck you so hard in this dress, brat.”

  She gasps, almost shaking as I chuckle.

  The priest eyes me, and knowing he heard makes me smirk.

  “We are gathered here today to join these two people in marriage,” the priest starts.

  I hear him. I just can’t take my eyes off my piccolina.

  “Do you, Bishop Demetrius, take thee, Callie Eaton, to be your wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?”

  “I do.” I lick my lips, eager to taste Callie, to finally seal us as one.

  “Do you, Callie Eaton, take thee, Bishop Demetrius, to be your wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?”

  A tear slides down Callie's cheek. Lifting my hand, I wipe it away.

  “I do,” she sobs.

  “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

  My heart beats rapidly as I stare at my wife—, fuck, my wife.

  “Bishop, my boy, you may kiss your wife.”

  I don’t wait for him to finish before my lips plunge to Callie’s. I bring a hand to the back of her neck as I tilt her head.

  I thrust my tongue into her mouth, my entire body pinned against hers. Her tongue begins a war with mine, and a deep chuckle vibrates through me as my fingers curl around her neck.

  My thumb presses into her throat, squeezing just enough, as I assert my dominance.

  By the time Callie pulls back, I swear my cock is rock-fucking hard and ready to act out that promsie I made.

  Callie blushes when she stares out at the people who just witnessed that kiss.

  “Wow, um, okay?” Luna fans her, and Ethan smirks our way.

  “If you two want to fuck, at least wait until we’ve all gone.” Brantley shouts.

  “Oh, God.” Callie covers her face, embarrassment clear as day.

  “Don’t ever hide, piccolina, because he’s right.”

  Callie stares at me, wide-eyed.

  “I’m going to devour that pussy very soon.”

  “Traditore- traitor.” I sneer at my father.

  “That puttana- whore, made you weak.”

  I see red. I clutch my father’s jaw viciously as I stab a knife in his thigh. He grunts, spittle flying everywhere.

  “ Vaffanculo, Father- fuck you.” I spit in his face.

  “Tu pagherai- you will pay.”

  “Tell me why.” I glare at the man who betrayed me the most.

  “Because you needed to see how patetico- pathetic you looked.”

  “Patetico- pathetic, Father.” I raise my hand. It lands across his cheek, daring him to speak another word.

  “I think if anyone is pathetic, old man, it’s you.”

  My father’s nostrils flare as he watches me twirl my wedding band.

  “So you married the cagna- bitch?”

  Losing my patience, I lean over my father, reaching for the knife, the handle still sticking from his thigh, and I twist it slowly as he curses and trembles with agony.

  “Last warning, Padre- father.” />