CHAPTER 3
“How much farther?”
Spook had to chuckle as he navigated the small motorboat to his special location. “Thirty seconds closer than last time you asked.”
“I can’t help it, I’m nervous.”
The delicate whine came with the barest press of her breast into his back—again. He let the heat flood in. It had become a constant love-song in his dick. Their wedding song. He’d been singing it from the moment he set eyes on her. “I guess you can be nervous.”
“Why? What are you going to do?”
He chuckled at the worry in her voice. “Things you’ve never dreamed,” he assured, again impressed with her submission. Ever since he’d laid down the requirement for her cooperation or he’d call it all off, she became his sweet little angel. He’d meant it for the actual wedding ritual but her obedience in even the smallest requests was a fun treat. He decided to leave it. Otherwise, she’d be in his lap raping his mouth while he tried getting them there. And he wanted that mouth of hers to rape his, but not until he said. And just like he said.
The buzzing heat in his muscles and even bones said he was ready to command her as much as she wanted to be. No, needed, she needed that. And he could not fucking love anything more. There was surely something divine about when she was submissive and vulnerable in the same breath. He could live for that.
His stomach danced with marriage excitement as the cove he searched for came into view. “We’re here.” He turned enough to see her face looking all around then pointed at the hanging canopy of trees. “There.”
“In the trees?”
“Close your eyes.”
“Oh God,” she squealed, covering her eyes with a hand while holding his waist tight with her other arm. “I won’t peek!”
“Good,” he laughed, shutting off the motor when they entered his little swamp paradise. “Welcome to Swamp Desure.”
As he parked the boat next to land, he laughed at her gasps and wordless dramatic babblings. “Glad you like it.”
“I love it! We should build a house here!”
“Well…maybe not. Stay in the boat while I have a look around. Understood?”
She gave a bunch of nods while smiling and giggling. He kept her in his peripheral as he made sure the small island wasn’t currently being occupied by any of his teethy friends. There were plenty of tracks so definitely not abandoned.
“What are you looking for?” she whispered loudly.
“Anything we wouldn’t want to sleep with.”
“Is there a bed in that thing?”
He looked up at the treehouse. “There will be.” Soon as he put their blankets in it.
“Why is it so high up? Does it flood?”
“To watch,” he said, making his way up the ladder, pleased with how intact it still was.
“Bird watch?” she called quietly as he pushed open the hatch and glanced around the eight-by-eight floor. Still solid. He climbed through and looked down around the boat, searching the water for movement.
“I like birds,” she whispered, waving up at him with a smile.
He hurried back down, eager to start his marriage plans. “Why are you whispering?” he whispered, pulling her out of the boat by her outstretched hand. He kissed her before she could answer, allowing his hunger free with his groan.
He remembered where they were and pulled back. “Let’s get you safe.”
He pulled her to the tree, smiling at her instant, “Are we in danger?”
“Not as long as I’m here.” He followed her up, admiring her camo ass as she went up the ladder.
“When do I get to know what we’re doing?” she asked, climbing through the opened hatch. “Oh my goodness, this is amazing! And so cute!”
She made her way to standing and looked all around, the pure excitement on her face making him smile. “Don’t lean out too far. I’ll go get our stuff.”
“Okay. Why is this place so special?” she asked as he headed down.
“It’s where I come to hunt.”
“Oh,” she said, sounding curious and confused. “What do you hunt?”
She was back to whispering, like maybe the animals might understand. “Alligators mostly.”
She gasped as he filled his hands with all their bags. “What for? Please don’t say you eat them!”
He chuckled, heading back to the ladder. “Okay.”
“You eat them?” she cried.
He made his way up with the load then handed one bag at a time to her through the hatch before climbing in and shutting it. “I have never eaten alligator and I don’t think I can but if you make me… I guess I’ll find a way.”
He spread their bedding out and lined the walls with the rest of their stuff then pulled her onto the blankets, kissing her. “You’ll find a way if I make you? I like the sound of that.”
She answered with a moan and the delicate sound reminded him she was still playing his little angel.
“You’re being so good for me.”
“You noticed?” She slid her leg between his, encountering his mad hard-on. “Oh,” she whispered, her breaths quickening.
He pushed his hips into the delicate assault. “You’ve been teasing me all day.” She went into sweet denial, and he gripped her tit, squeezing hard, bringing an eruption of lust and fighting to remove his clothes. “Whoa,” he shuddered, grabbing her hands and bringing them to his mouth. “Not yet, Mah Eton ante.”
“When?”
“After our wedding ceremony.”
She froze and eyed him with an expectant look. He laughed when it turned exasperated. “Spook, tell me! What is this ceremony exactly? How long does it take?”
He lay on his back laughing at her desperation. “You’re ready to say screw the ceremony? Let’s just fuck? Is that it?” He got on his elbow and stared down at her, stroking her face with his fingers. “What’s that look for my Belle Fille?”
“I like the way you say it,” she whispered, intercepting his fingers with her mouth. Before he could stop her, she had two of them in a hot suction that stole his breath. He gave in, his eyes burning on hers as he took control and pushed in and out of her mouth. “You like that word?”
She answered with her teeth against his fingers, moaning softly with an eager nod.
“Yeah,” he whispered, kissing her brow as he stroked her tongue with his eager touch. “You’re ready to be my wife?”
She nodded quickly, gasping then sucking again.
“You’ll have to obey me,” he warned softly, getting more sounds of agreement. He pulled his fingers out and tugged open her pants. “I’m going to make you come before we get started. Get these around your ankles for me so I can fuck your soft pussy.” He glanced down, watching her do as told, her every desperate moan tickling his cock. “You want that?”
“Yes, yes,” she gasped, opening her legs wide.
He removed his hand from hers when she tried to take over. “Put those hands above your head.” He slid her t-shirt over her breasts once she did, tugging the lacy bra down below her breasts. He devoured her nipple with his mouth, sucking and feeling it with his tongue while caressing her inner thigh. “So ready to fuck, baby?”
“Spook,” she gasped, fighting to get more of her tit in his mouth. “Please hurry.”
He teased at her entrance, learning just how desperate she was. “You are fucking drenched, baby.”
“I need you,” she mewled. “Please.”
“Yeah? You need me?”
“I do, please, fuck me, hurry.”
He scraped his teeth along the outer edge of her hard nipple, twirling the tip of his finger in her opening. “Right here?”
“Monte, I need it,” she begged around many gasps.
He moved to her lips. “Kiss me.”
She grabbed his face and dove on his mouth the moment he plunged to the very bottom of her. He thumbed her clit, getting a sharp cry and her fucking orgsam. “Oh baby, fuck.” He raised up enough to watch it, his gaze moving from her thrashing face and bucking hips till he was growling with hunger and lust.
“I can’t fucking wait for you to fuck my dick like that. Oh yes, look at you,” he whispered, milking her orgasm down to the very last bit with smacking, deep jabs. “Mark my fucking woods with your beautiful voice,” he shuddered. “Fuck yes, and my name, baby. Over and over just like that.”
He finished her off with a kiss before he had to grab her hands and hold them to the floor. “Later.”
“When!” she demanded.
“You ready?”
“You know I am!”
He smiled, staring at her. “I’m taking you on a hunt,” he announced.
She got up on her elbows, curious. “A hunt? What are we hunting?”
He angled his head at her, stroking her chin. “A monster.”
Their eyes met and remained locked for many seconds. “What…monster?”
“The scary one. With the long…green body…and jaws of thunder. Endless teeth.”
“Alligators?” she wondered, still curious.
He popped his brows twice, giving another smile.
“Why are we hunting alligators?”
“Alligator. Singular. Our alligator. Our monster.” Seeing her confusion, he went on. “Your monsters are mine and mine are yours. We hunt them together. Slay them together. We take their remains together.” He leaned and kissed her puckered forehead, smiling at her worried face.
“You want me to go with you to…hunt an alligator?”
“And kill it.”
Her eyes widened. “Kill it?” Her head shook slowly then fast. “I can’t kill an alligator. I’ve never hunted once in my life!”
He leaned in and kissed her. “Today you will become a gator huntress. And then my wife.”
She kissed him back, her fingers raking along his scalp. “You’ll be with me?”
The fear in her voice burned through him. “Always. Always baby,” he swore, holding her face and kissing her deeply. “I will always protect you. From all the monsters. You just have to let me.”
Her arms went around his neck, and she hugged him tight. “I want you to. Only you. Nobody else.”
He pulled her into his lap and embraced her, hyper aware of the gift she’d just given him. “Nobody else. Only me.”
****
“Why not just do the meeting from here?” Beth suggested, fighting to sound innocent.
“Because you have a terrible poker face and I want to use that to my advantage.”
She let him tug her down the pier while sputtering out the beginnings of several clever retorts.
“All that noise you’re making Ma-Petite confirms my suspicion that you and my mother have again conspired.”
“Conspired!”
“And repeating the offense in your sweet northern dramatics only further confirms it.”
“Sahvrin!”
“Sahvrin?”
She flustered harder at the correction. “Bishop! Would you quit being so paranoid?”
“I’m not paranoid, I’m simply aware of the facts when it comes to her and you.”
“Oh really! Which are?”
“I know for one that she’s bias with you and not always in the ways I agree with. She picks great fights at all the wrong times.”
“Well, I guess there’s only one way to convince you and that’s for you to see that you’re wrong. I’ll wait patiently until that moment comes.”
He helped her in the small boat then pulled her down in his lap. “You can be sure that I will be the first to bow at your angelic feet if it turns out I’m altogether wrong. But I’m very good at spotting swamp scandal with Mah-Mah’s name all over it. She has always been behind such antics over the years and with you, the recipe has been doubled.”
“The only recipe I’m creating is one for our future and who do you think is at the front of that? You are, silly!”
“We are a family, Ma Petite. We. Not me. And our family is on the brink of a war.”
“I’m aware of that,” she said, keeping her voice even. “As I’ve said, you will see soon enough if anything is out of the ordinary in this disastrous recipe you’re so sure I’m cooking up.”
“I will.”
She rolled her eyes. “Good to see our marriage is so full of trust.”
“I trust you to be you.”
“Which is a traitorous, double-dealing bimbo, apparently.” His sexy laugh bypassed her anger and went straight between her legs, making her roll her eyes.
“A traitorous angel who sets out to help with the wrong things in mind. Or wrong people.”
“More like a stupid angel who can’t see the world outside of her lusty Bishop lens. You think I’m not thinking of our family or know that our family consists of more than just you. Not insulting in the least Mr. Doubty Pants.” More sexy laughter.
“I’m cut to pieces.”
“A mocker too.” She nodded. “Laughing at your stupid angel who is actually a lot more perceptive than you clearly know—” His fist bit in her hair and stole her breath the moment before his mouth crashed down with a growl until moans was the only language she remembered.
“Now you’re speaking proper Bishop English,” he said lowly, his kiss slowing.
“Bishop,” she whispered as his hand navigated under her long flowing skirt to her proper cotton panties.
She opened her knees, and he slid his fingers over her center, letting go a low groan. “So offended with me, Ma Petite,” he murmured on her mouth as he pulled her panties aside and sank his finger in her.
“Oh God, yes.” She opened wider and pumped into his searching slow jabs.
“Yes? You want it?”
“I want it,” she panted, already halfway there. How could she be so desperate for something he’d given her not an hour before? She was a bottomless pit of Bishop need. Guilty of everything he accused her of. “Please.”
He moved his wet fingers to her clit and drew slow circles right on it, making her dizzy and hot in the early morning air.
The motor suddenly shut off and he silently directed her to the seat just before him then lifted her skirts to her waist. “Hold your wet panties aside, Ma Lubrique Epouse.”
She hurried to obey, opening her knees wide while undulating her hips in shameless need. She watched his harsh face now focused between her legs as he got closer, holding her knees open with his. She grabbed the edge of the boat with a sharp cry at the plunge of his two fingers. His fist returned to her hair, pulling her mouth to his as he shoved into her, bringing more rounds of cries. They turned non-stop when he began to hammer deep and then spoke harsh French on her mouth, blowing her apart till she was shaking. She latched on to his wrist with both hands and his arm swooped around her back, allowing her to collapse and ride the ecstasy the rest of the way down. Or up, whichever way oblivion was.
****
Bishop watched Mah-Mah in her mundane hospitalities. Her investment to every boring detail was beyond suspicious. And with nothing to discern in her expressions other than a fierce poker face, well, that made it official. She was surely hiding something. The less signs she revealed, the more it meant she hid. He wouldn’t try to guess with the meeting opening in five minutes but if he had to, it had everything to do with positioning. She was always putting herself someplace she felt necessary, regardless if they agreed it was. Normally, he wouldn’t give three swamp fucks but with the women piling up in the war scenarios, the fucks were adding up mighty quick.
Bishop gave his wife one final look as Mah-Mah called the meeting to order. It was useless trying to discern clues in her face when his mind only saw that orgasm she’d had an hour before. Another reason to have the women out of the way at this time. None of the men that had a woman could think straight with them too near or too far. And if he had to use that in his arsenal, he would, pride be damned. He had no issues admitting to his weaknesses with her. It didn’t make him less of a man, but more of one as far as he was concerned. And he was more than sure his men would agree.
“I spoke to The Grand Oratrice in regards to the particulars surrounding the Gauntlet Trials and the women who are to become part of The Twelve. The Grand Oratrice has ruled that the Fate Dice would be used to answer all the particulars that can’t be agreed upon regarding the Gauntlet Trials due to swamp Regle 33.”
Bishops insides slowly went numb as all his calculations crashed into a wall of unexpected shock. He stared at his Mah-Mah for endless seconds, not surprised that she avoided his gaze. He lowered his head, his mind in a panic, racing through alternate escape options while dumbfounded at the bad fucking omen before him. He could negotiate a lot of things with his high-scheming mother, but there was not a damn thing he could do when the Fate Dice spoke. It was the final bang of the gavel. And once it was invoked, there was no turning back.
He brought his gaze up to his wife’s, meeting guilt and worry. She fucking knew. And yet she had no real clue of his life-long adversity with those Dice and the rules that governed it. At least she’d better hope she didn’t know. They had decided many things that changed his path in life and not a one of them he’d wanted.
It would surely be the same in this.
God’s hand is heavy on those he looks fondly upon, son.
Bishop returned his gaze to the table as The Seer’s soft words rang in his ears from those many years ago. He’d not understood them then, but he understood now. He forced himself to the rational side of things. He had Beth. That said something about the heavy hand’s fondness, didn’t it? He sure couldn’t steal an angel, so he had to believe he was permitted to have her. That meant something. It had to. But to believe he was on some streak of divine favor was a big joke. A glitch, yes. A one off, perhaps. A momentary blink between judgments for his sins, likely.
“So, if they’ll be back tomorrow afternoon, we’ll schedule to meet at the Basilique for a Fate Roll the following morning,” Mah-Mah announced.
Whispered mutters of agreement broke out with The Twelve as Bishop realized he’d missed most of the details. Fate was already speaking. And as usual, nobody argued with her even while he silently begged for somebody to say anything.
“Bishop? I have your vote?” Mah-Mah asked.
The dark fingers of his old friend pressed in from behind, bringing fighting instincts. He remembered who he was in The Twelve and who sat watching him from across the table. He slid his palms along the warm varnished surface, his sights on the familiar skull shaped knot in the pine as the need to speak to The Seer began to burn like a fire inside him. He’d know what to do. Now that he had his own woman to protect, he’d know.
He finally gave the required nod followed with “You have my vote. Seer?”
“I’m here, my Eveque.”
He paused at the affection in his tone. “Meet me at the dry dock in an hour.”
“I’ll be there.”
Bishop pushed away from the table and left without looking at his wife. She’d think the worst as she was prone to, but he couldn’t let her see what was growing by the second. He’d despised The Fate Dice for a greater portion of his life but now, having more than his own misery at stake, it wasn’t hate or contempt he had, but utter terror. To have his life in the Dice’s hands had been scarring but to have his wife’s life in its hands was…fuckingunforgivable.
But the Dice didn’t care, and clearly, neither did his mother.