Bayou Bishops Box Set: Books 1-12

CHAPTER 27

“Ma Petite.”

Beth moaned and opened her eyes, immediately sitting up at seeing Sahvrin next to the bed dressed in his Bishop suit. “Where are you going?”

“We, Ma Petite.” He leaned and angled his head, kissing her cheek then holding his hand out to her. “I have business with Lazure and my brothers tonight. I don’t want you here alone.”

“Tonight?” She took his hand, realizing she was naked when his eyes burned her. Pain throbbed in her privates as she scooted out the bed while her womb clenched with the unforgettable memory of his pounding cock.

He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tight as his mouth moved along her face in soft kisses and even softer moans. “Where am I going?” she wondered.

“To my other bed at Mah-Mah’s.”

The memory of Katrina overshadowed the joy she should have going to his childhood bedroom.

“What’s wrong, Ma Petite?” he asked, stroking her face.

She leaned into his touch, addicted to the comforting habit followed by her second favorite—kisses on her forehead.

“Nothing.”

“Hey.”

She looked up and found his gaze hard and hot on her.

“Everything I am, is all yours Angel, just like you said. You own me.”

She lowered her gaze. “She called you Bishop,” she whispered, pain stabbing her.

He gave her a swooning kiss and she was suddenly back on the sidewalk for the first time with him. “She knows him by name only, Angel. That man did not exist then. But he does now and he is madly in love with His Petite.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “I looked for you,” she gasped, looking up at him. “That night. After you left, I looked for you.” Her lip trembled. “I wanted you so much.”

His fingers bit in her hair and tilted her head back. “Ma Petite,” he croaked kissing tenderly at her mouth. “I fucking wanted you more, I swear to God. I realized you were heaven and I’d thrown it away. And my soul burned every fucking day over it.”

Her back hit the bed as his buckle clinked followed by his cock sliding against her entrance. “You found me again,” she gasped in his hungry mouth as he slid inside her with a careful tenderness while caressing and kissing face. Only a few strokes in and she clawed to get more, wanting all of him at once.

“Fuck, Angel,” he shot out, shoving in hard and deep. He held her jaw tight and kissed her as he pounded with that reckless, growling fury, his orgasm already there. He writhed and groaned on top of her, grinding as deep as he could as she pulled his hair too hard.

When he’d filled her with all he had, he swore right in her mouth, “I love you, Ma Bell Petite. I love you more than I’ve loved anybody, I swear to you.”

The joy that gave her brought her tears and when he saw it, he gave a groan, like he was destined to cause pain. A rogue laugh burst out from her, bringing another and another until she couldn’t stop.

“Ma Petite.”

His confused surprise made her breathless with laughter. She finally got a “Sorry,” squeaked past before catching a breath. “I’m just so happy.” Her tears returned again.

“Mon Dieu, how are you doing this? Laughing and crying?”

His genuine question brought more laughter and she held on to his neck as it stole her breath. “Oh God!” she cried, sucking in air again.

“Ma Petite, I have fucked you when I swore to myself not to and have broken my commitment to be at this meeting.”

”What?” She pushed him off and sat up. “I’m sorry,” she said, scooting out the bed. “But I won’t take all the blame, that’s half yours and I’m being generous.”

He yanked her back onto his lap, his grin almost boyish, making him achingly handsome. “Anything my angel wants, I will give her however she wants it and whenever. That is my new code.”

Her heart beat so hard in her chest at those words. “I like this arrangement. Is this Bishop’s code?”

He devoured her again, his fist winding in her hair and pulling her head back. “You must agree right now to call me by that name when we are fucking. Always.”

“Oh God,” she said, staring into his smoldering eyes. “Yes.”

He tilted her head more, exposing her neck then sucking it so hard. After many seconds, he released the suction with a gasp, licking the spot and kissing before moving to her mouth. “When you say that name, you command a darkness in me. A never-ending vengeance and emptiness.” He stroked her face, staring into her eyes. “I need you to always call me out of that place, Ma Petite. Don’t leave me in there.”

Her heart clenched at his words, and she climbed in his lap, taking hold of his face. “You are My Bishop just like I am your Petite,” she said with tears. “And I will never leave you in the darkness. I will always be your light. I promise.”

****

“So, what’s on the menu for our parishioners at the Weigh Station?” Jek asked as Sahvrin’s Night Dragon roared through the dark swamp roadway.

“I called for The Revelator to come see what he can see,” Sahvrin said.

Zep gave a light snort. “Ain’t seen his ugly face in a bit.”

“You would speak that way about The Revelator,” Lazure muttered, not even mildly surprised.

“Whatever,” Zep said, making Sahvrin wonder what his problem was. “Let em’ reveal all my sins, then you can call The Auditor to judge my dirty soul.”

August shook his head with a “Puuuuhhh, somebody’s cranky.”

Probably pissed he has to drive somewhere to fuck Katrina. A match made in hell. But Sahvrin didn’t just call The Revelator for the Weigh Station business. The last they’d talked, the man mentioned a vision he’d had about him. At the time, Sahvrin didn’t want to hear it. Now, maybe he did.

“Y’all still using smoke signals to communicate with The Twelve or what?” Zep asked. “You’d think 8-Bit woulda had implant chips figured out by now.”

“If you wanna know so bad, why you didn’t join The Twelve?” Bart challenged, saving Sahvrin’s breath. “You know they don’t tell shit to nobody.”

“Well, Lazure isn’t part of The Twelve and he knows everything.”

“He fucking founded it,” August droned sounding underwhelmed.

“What is your problem?” Jek said, annoyed. “You not getting enough pussy or what?”

“Maybe too much,” August thought. “Probably seen more pussy than a gynecologist during a venereal disease epidemic.”

They all laughed but Lazure and Sahvrin. He was busy feeling like Zep was hiding more than his fuck feelings for Katrina. His Mah-Mah had mentioned jealousy more than once explaining his randomly pissed behavior over the years. There hadn’t been anything for him to be jealous over until recently. He remembered his comment about his perfect girlfriend.

Definitely a jealous comment coming from a man who wasn’t happy till he put his dick in everything.

His phone made cricket noises in his pocket again. Ever since Sahvrin had opened the app that 8-BIT created for The Twelve’s phones, it had been popping. Had been a while since they’d gathered all The Twelve. Usually, problems only required one or two Hatches to handle, depending on the issue. Every Hatch had its honed strengths and in times of a major conflict, The Twelve leaders and their Hatches came together and formed the Swamp Horde.

Zep made his jabs at 8-Bit, but the man’s genius was no joke. The dude was a tech-legend. Not only did he lead their Tech Hatch, but he also ran all their operations, big or small from a remote location in the swamp. Sahvrin had been in his shack a couple of times and recalled the room full of screens and computers where he tracked every member of every Hatch via a signal on their watches. Now, with the eyes on the waterways, The Swamp Horde would always have the advantage against any enemy that entered their territory.

It’d be good to see The Twelve again. They only met once a year at Mah-Mah’s festivities, but the war that ushered in the group’s existence would always be their unbreakable bond. He was also eager to introduce His Petite to the leaders. He’d be one of the first of The Twelve to take a woman in marriage, but he still needed to make sure His Petite wanted the position as his right hand. He wasn’t sure if she realized that he’d made love to her before he got her official answer. That was because he was prepared to step down as leader. Nothing on God’s green earth would keep him from being that angel’s husband and protector, this he knew.

His phone vibrated against his leg and the special alert jerked his cock. What was His Petite doing up at this hour? Playing with her pussy and texting him all about it, hopefully. Mon Dieu, he’d never get enough of that woman.

The moment they arrived at the Weigh Station, he pulled his phone out and slid his finger over her name. Can’t sleep without you. What are you up to? I know it’s stupid to miss you when you just left. But I do. So much.

Need hammered his muscles as Sahvrin remembered he’d named himself Bishop on her contacts. Would be his official first cleansing sex command with her. I want you to open your legs wide and play with your pussy slowly while imagining it’s my tongue. When you orgasm, call my name. Understood?

He sent it and willed his cock down while opening The Twelve app. He tapped the unread message from The Revelator.

Eveque, Eveque, how doth my dark son fare? I have received your invitation to the Weigh Station and will be there at the appointed time.

Looking forward to seeing my wayward son.

The Revelator

The man didn’t always make Sahvrin nervous, but he did now. He called him Eveque but only those in The Twelve referred to him as that. Technically, The Revelator wasn’t under him or part of The Twelve but instead led the whole Hoard in spiritual matters. His gift to see the hidden things in people as well as his visions served the Horde in many ways even if they were unnerving. If you gave a fuck. Which until now, he really hadn’t. In the Katrina aftermath, he’d embraced his courtship with Death, waging a war of rage. And during his darkest hours, The Revelator had taken an interest in him and surprisingly voted him to be leader of The Twelve.

Not surprising, it turned out to be the exact purpose his life had needed.

Many found The Revelator’s religious flare amusing, but Sahvrin didn’t. Like 8-Bit, he was a legend in his in own rite. His visions and intuition made him one of the best trackers he’d ever seen. You lost anything or anybody in the swamp, he’d find it.

There was only one other man in The Twelve with his kind of tracking skills. Spook. The only difference with Spook, he had no spiritual gifts other than the ones he was born with. His survival and hiding skills were next to phenomenal. He showed up and left out like a ghost. He knew where you were, but you never knew where he was. And if he ever decided to take off his tracker, nobody but maybe The Revelator would find him.

Last Sahvrin checked, he only had four members in his Hatch. He hoped he had more. His skills were too great not to pass down. Wasn’t often they needed him, but when they did, he was Sahvrin’s first choice in the dirty matters. With The Revelator, he wouldn’t do jobs if it went against his often-odd principals. And more than once Sahvrin needed a man of zero principals.

They parked and Sahvrin tied the boat off to one of the cypress knees.

“Lazure, it’s been a while,” The Revelator greeted behind him.

Sahvrin turned, catching the cordial tip of his black wide brimmed hat and nod of his head in the light of August’s lantern.

“Samuel.” Lazure reached out and shook his hand. “Too long between Claudette’s parties.”

This brought one of The Revelators signature laughs. The commanding boom and volume made you stop and need to know what brought it. He was no stranger to his Mah-Mah’s incessant need for celebrating things and their incessant need to avoid it. The Revelator didn’t seem to share the feeling, attending every one of them faithfully even though he was more seen than heard.

For the longest time, he’d assumed The Revelator wasn’t into women, but he recalled the way he danced with one at the last party. Sahvrin would’ve written it off as being drunk but the man never drank a drop of the devil’s Kool-Aid.

The Revelator turned as if sensing Sahvrin coming up. “Well look what the devil done sent home,” he said, his slow grin growing into a full-blown smile as he looked him over thoroughly. Sahvrin wondered if that was part of his method for discerning things about people. If it was, the look he wore said he’d just had a revelation of everything he’d done with His Petite. Pleasant surprise was the closest description Sahvrin had for his wide eyes, at least he hoped.

The man put his hand out and Sahvrin eyed it, pretty sure he’d never shaken it before for obvious reasons. Felt like he’d meet God face to face if he did. Fuck it.

Sahvrin put his hand in his and eyed the man while giving a firm shake. The Revelator stared into his gaze while pumping his hand slowly up and down, nodding now. Sahvrin kept his gaze locked on his, the thick jagged scar from his eye to his mouth shining in the flickering light. Sahvrin had heard it was self-inflicted. A woman fell in love with him and took her life when he rejected her affections. Said his face would never be a stumbling block again.

Somebody needed to tell him the scar only added bad ass to whatever look he’d failed to disfigure. The strength in his hand gradually receded, then he released him. “The darkness has been overthrown,” he said, a curious eagerness sparking in those stormy blue eyes. “Vanquished.” He held the brim of his hat and nodded his head once. “I’ll need to be meeting this powerful individual soon?”

Sahvrin didn’t hold in his grin. “You’ll meet her tomorrow at the celebration.”

“Indeed, I will,” he said, spinning suddenly. “Now where be these children of evil wretchedness?” he wondered in light curiosity.

“Let me lead the way for the Good Shepard.” This was from Zep who already headed down the path to the trees they’d tied them to.

“The Good Shepard,” The Revelator repeated, his deep chuckle echoing in the humid darkness. “Run boy run,” he said, with an eagerness. “The faster you do, the quicker you’ll meet me in the way.”

Zep shined his flashlight beam on the Colorful One’s drooping head and Sahvrin reached with the tip of his boot, pushing it back.

“Bled out,” Zep muttered, shaking his head.

Sahvrin felt the cold, calculating finger of judgment move down his spine as he knelt before him and pressed two fingers against his neck. He shook his head. “He ain’t dead.” Yet.

“This one’s awake,” Lazure called from around the tree as Sahvrin stood.

“Damn, he done shit allover,” he heard Bart mutter.

The Revelator knelt before Tattoos, angling his head left and right, high and low, as if looking for an entrance, all while making abrupt clicking sounds in his throat that reminded Sahvrin of his alligator call. Maybe it was a demon call for him.

“Mmhm,” he started saying repeatedly with nods, as if confirming something.

“You want me to ungag this one?” Bart called.

“Hold on,” Sahvrin said, wanting to see what The Revelator was seeing.

He leaned back on his haunches, winded like he’d just run a mile. “A very long and dark road in this one,” he said, shaking his head. He rose with ease and Sahvrin headed around the tree to their other demon host.

“I had to use the bathroom,” the big dude mumbled at seeing Sahvrin. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hold it.”

“He’s sorry he couldn’t hold it,” The Revelator said to Sahvrin with a weird excitement like that meant something. He knelt next to the man. “What’s your name, son?”

Sweat covered his face and head, both full of welts from all the hungry swamp insects. “Are you the Executor?” he whispered eagerly, like he’d consider dying at this point merciful. He’d be right. “They call me Rooster, but my Christian name is Brandon. The guy behind me is Needles, and his real name is Stephen.” He shook his head, his lips pressing together in sudden strain. “Look, sir,” he said, the word barely making it out his mouth as he blinked around tears. “I done some bad things and I know I’m gonna die tonight. I knew this day was coming and I think maybe I prayed it would cuz…” His face seemed to cramp up in pain. “I don’t like the man I became.” He gave a vigorous head shake then looked at The Revelator with clear eyes. “I’m glad to take my punishment. I hope you do it real good, too. But before I go, you gotta let me do some good, somehow.”

The Revelator sat staring for several seconds then stood and turned to Sahvrin. “What do you think we should do, fearless and wise leader?”

Sahvrin knew, but the test behind his question made him double check his answer.

“Sirs, I can’t meet my Maker like this, please.”

Sahvrin walked past The Revelator, standing before the man. “You can start by confessing your sins. Every single one of them. Your sins and the sins of every Roulette you know.”

“Oh God,” he quipped with his head down, like that was worse than torture and dying. “Sir, that’s going to take a long time,” he said, eying them with that twisted, guilty face that Sahvrin wanted to smash with a bat now.

“I have all fucking night,” Sahvrin assured, turning to meet The Revelator’s stare he felt burning into his back. He looked around. “Where’d he go?”

“I’m here boy,” he called from his right. “Just takin’ a piss before we get to work.”

“I’ll stay and hear his sins,” Zep volunteered.

“I will too,” August said. “But we’ll need to get them to the Weigh Station. I ain’t gettin’ eatin’ alive for these fools.”

“I’ll stay too,” Lazure said. “Got a bad feeling about this night.”

Sahvrin glanced at him. “Like what?”

He shook his head, looking up at the skies. “Dunno.”

“Storms comin’,” The Revelator said, walking up from behind.

“I just checked that hurricane, it’s still headed to Alabama, maybe Florida.”

The Revelator nodded with a freaky grin at Sahvrin. “That it is. But that’s not the storm I mean.”

****

Sahvrin let Jek drive them back, too pissed to think. The Revelator’s condemnation was a slap in the face even if he hadn’t said it, Sahvrin felt it in his unspoken words. And what was his storm talk about? Felt more like a threat than a warning. Yeah. Sahvrin could see things too. If The Revelator wanted to show mercy to that fat fuck with the hours and hours of sins so vile, he’d rather die, he fucking could. But like hell if he would. Same for the sick sack of ink-shit. If he died before they got his confession, he’d say fate rolled the judgment dice and deprived him of executing him personally.

He opened his phone after they got going, finding His Petite’s name. On my way back, he texted her. The Bishop side of him wanted her very much awake when he got back, while his sane side hoped she slept and rested.

Waiting for you.

Those words made Sahvrin’s cock throb with things he didn’t want to name. Good. I need you, he texted back. He left it at that because he wasn’t sure what he needed. No, he knew what he needed, and he’d been denied. Bishop wasn’t interested in wiping slates clean, he wanted to punish something. He’d call it divine intervention that his anger and vengeance thought his cock was the perfect tool to satisfy his judgment lusts. And while she was too tender for him to fuck his rage down, she could survive slow, torturous pleasure. And that ass. It was so perfect, it felt like a sin. The way it wrecked his mind and body and taunted him. So fucking bad and guilty.

****

Beth wanted to wait for Sahvrin at the docks, but he’d told her not to. No, he told her No. Wait in the bed. Naked.

Getting texts with the name Bishop was doing a real number on her. She kept rewriting their history, starting from the night they’d met, imagining various outcomes. What if he’d chaperoned her? What if she’d taken him to her room and done you know what?

She giggled to herself at the idea, knowing he’d have done no such thing. Maybe. Not at first.

Footsteps on the stairs brought hammering in her chest. She got up on her elbows, watching the door. Being a scaredy cat, she’d put on his nightlights, which were basically those fat bulbed Christmas lights strung all over the room. She spotted the BDSM book she’d been reading and quickly moved it under the covers. She was still too shy to show her sexual appetite so openly like he did.

Would he want her to tell him about her playing with herself like he’d asked? She was sure he would and braced for that very awkward moment.

The door opened and he walked in with only black slacks, stormy gaze locked on hers till she could hardly breathe.

Dear, dear God he was wickedly handsome when his hair was wet and hanging to his shoulders. And staring like that at her. Was he angry? Did something bad happen?

She sat up, holding the sheet to her chest. “Are you okay?”

“Did you shower?”

Her clit pounded as he made his way straight to the bed, eyes on her body. “Yes,” she whispered.

He grabbed the sheet and yanked, ripping it from her hands and off the bed in one move. She panted, hands on the bed next to her, fighting not to be ashamed and too nervous. She wanted to say something but everything that came to her mind didn’t apply.

He spotted the book on the bed and reached for it, picking it up. “What were you reading?”

She swallowed, eyeing the book, realizing he’d want exacts. What was she reading. “I…kind of skipped around.”

He set the book down, staring at her tits. “Did you read about submission?”

“Yes, some.”

“Did you read about discipline?”

Her pulse raced faster. “Yes.”

He pulled a black tie from his pocket and slid it through his hands. “Tell me what it said.” He draped the tie around his neck, and she heard his zipper while trying to remember what it said.

“He…he decides how to punish her.”

“The punishments are usually different, yes?” He stood next to the bed, and she assumed he was naked now, she was too scared to look.

“Yes,” she said, with a nod, her fingers in tight fists next to her, legs drawn up tight. She wanted to cover her breasts but knew better, so tried to sit bravely naked before his burning gaze. Had she done something to anger him without realizing?

She watched him walk to the closet, seeing he still had on tight briefs. He pulled a blanket out and spreading it on the floor.

Was he not sleeping with her? He straightened and pointed to the blanket. “I want you right here, on your knees.”

Oh God. She stared at him, her gaze moving down to his huge cock pushing at his underwear. At realizing he was at maximum arousal, she quickly did as he said, fighting her inadequacy of moving around nude.

“Put your hands behind your back,” he ordered when she knelt where he’d said.

She did, panting now with eyes closed, aroused out of her mind. Oh God, he was tying her wrists. She gasped when he cinched it tight with a formidable feeling knot.

He knelt before her, putting his hot gaze even with hers, staring at her like he searched for answers to something. She wanted to ask if he was okay and couldn’t make the words come. She could only stare back, barely.

“Open your knees.”

Her breaths hitched as she did, causing her to lower enough she looked up at him now.

“Tell me what you were reading.”

“Oh God,” she gasped as he slid soft fingers along her tender folds.

“I’m waiting.”

“I…was reading about…spanking.” His finger found her clit, drawing slow, burning circles on it.

“And why did my naughty angel choose that?”

She gasped on the heat. “Because…I want it.”

“I know you fucking do,” he said.

****

Every pounding impulse running through Sahvrin screamed wicked. And yet he’d done nothing wrong. He stared into His Petite’s face, feeding off the look she wore as he very slowly rubbed her hard clit.

“Tell me what it said.” He lowered his underwear and pulled his cock out. “Tell me while you watch me stroke my cock.”

She looked down, her mouth opening more with light moans. “It said…” She licked her lips, brows pulling together. “That he should discuss with her… the consequences. They…oh yes,” she moaned when he wiggled his finger on her clit then returned to slow torture.

“They what?” he demanded, seething from the heat in his balls.

“They agree, they have to agree,” she shot out. “On what is done. Oh please,” she begged, looking at him, desperate.

He lowered his head and flicked her nipple with his tongue, bringing her strained moans higher. He groaned on the thick nub, rubbing his lips back and forth across it. He wiggled his fingers quicky again, catching her nipple between his teeth as he did.

“Oh God, yes, please.”

He raised up and dove on her mouth, biting at her lip and flicking his tongue against hers, then pulling back when she fought to taste him. Their breaths clashed, his thick with lust, hers delicate with pleading.

“I need to come,” she shuddered, fighting to get at his mouth.

“You have to burn first,” he swore.

He reclined on his left elbow, opening his legs for her. “Suck my cock. Put your naughty ass right here,” he ordered.

She moved on her knees where he instructed, leaning for his cock while he stroked over the perfect round cheek on his right. She took the head in her mouth, and he gave his first spanking, seething when she yelped in shock, her teeth nipping his shaft. He slid his finger inside her dripping pussy very carefully, driving her moans higher.

She sucked faster and deeper and he removed his finger, spanking her again. “Slower,” he ordered, returning his finger to her pussy.

“Oh God, please,” she begged when he wiggled his touch over her clit.

He spanked her twice. “Oh God please?”

“Bishop,” she shot out between sucking, focusing her mouth on the head now. “I need you. I’m begging.”

“One orgasm,” he said, spanking her ass good when she flicked his slit with her tongue, her lusty moans following her yelp.

“Is your pussy hot, naughty Angel?”

She dove on his cock in answer, raking her teeth on the ascent, bringing his hand down on her soft ass again. “You’re being so fucking bad.”

“Punish my pussy, please.”

“Punish your fucking pussy?” he said, ready to tear into her.

Sahvrin grabbed her wrists and pulled her up, then knelt just before her, staring at the pure lust on her face. “I need to come,” she said. “Please, make me come, Bishop.”

She said the last with her eyes closed, panting.

He took hold of her hair and tilted her head back. “You want me to make you come?”

“Yes, and I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”

He licked at her mouth, her words overpowering him. He moved his finger over her clit again. “Right here?“

Her yes wrenched out between gasps. “Punish my pussy, please. Spank it.”

Fucking Dieu. Spank her pussy? What had she read? He tapped her clit with his fingers, testing and her mouth flew open.

“Oh God, oh my God.”

He looked down, giving one pop every second or two, his fingers pulling harder in her hair as his hunger began to boil. He could fucking orgasm watching this. He turned her head and kissed at her mouth, spanking her plump lips faster until her cries ended with “Bishop!”

He growled and placed three fingers between her pussy lips and wiggled at a frantic pace. “Fucking come Angel.”

He devoured her mouth when her cries came, intensifying his assault without mercy until she bucked and shook in his arm. He worked the tie off her wrists, deciding he loathed using it on her and not feeling her touch.

The second she was free, she lunged, kissing him.

He lay her beneath him, grunting when she captured his cock in her hand and pulled him to her pussy. Her nails bit into his ass, forcing him deep.

“Beth,” he gushed, kissing her neck, then jaw, then mouth.

“Fuck me Bishop.”

He snatched her hands and yanked them above her head, holding her while he bucked his hips, watching her tits jerk as sharp moans flew from her fucking mouth.

His orgasm hit like a hurricane, tearing through him until he couldn’t think or hear or feel anything but the endless bliss of His Petite.