Chapter 33 #2
His eyes darken as his lashes fall, and he kisses my hip again.
He makes his way slowly across my waistband, kissing and nipping me with teasing strokes of his tongue as I twirl locks of his curls around my fingertips.
The sight of us in the mirror catches my eye, and my gaze drifts over the tattoo again.
“Why did you get it?”
“Losing you felt like I lost myself. It was the darkest point of my life, like I was lost in a forest and might never find my way out. I couldn’t see straight.
Couldn’t think straight. Thinking of you out there, never able to see or talk to you again.
Never touch you again. It got to the point where every time I thought of you, it felt bleak.
A sweeping darkness that was always threatening to pull me under. I missed you so fucking much.
“You’d been the one bright light in my life.
Your family too, of course. But you were living up to your name, like an aspen in the fall, brilliantly outshining everything around it.
You were patient with me in a way no one had ever been before.
You always waited for me to come around.
Just like you said. However much time I needed.
However much quiet you had to sit with me in.
You never asked for things I wasn’t ready to give.
You trusted I would when I was ready. So I figured if you could wait like that, never knowing for sure, I could do the same for you.
I could wait for that day. Trust that someday we’d make it back to each other, and one day you might be ready to fall again. ”
All I manage in response is a small, muted gasp. He grins at me in return, kissing me twice more before he presses his forehead to my abdomen and takes a deep breath.
“I don’t even have words,” I say at last.
He sees me struggling with my emotions and smirks in a way that has mischief dancing behind his green-gold eyes. I’m in so much trouble.
“But, honey, I have to tell you honestly, right now, I’m thinking I got it so I could see what these long legs looked like draped over my shoulders, framing it.”
“I’m thinking I want to see what that looks like too.”
He tilts his head all the way back, his gaze meeting mine in question. Asking me if I’m seriously giving him permission.
“I’d be cruel as hell if that speech didn’t earn you something.”
“Your brand of cruelty just makes the reprieves I get sweeter.” His smirk turns lopsided as he tries not to grin.
“Enjoy it while it lasts,” I tease him.
He wastes zero time once I’ve given him the permission he’s seeking.
His fingers anchor into my waistband and drag my shorts down with my panties over my thighs and legs.
Every inch of it feels like torture, and my nerves flicker with the sudden pulse of anticipation.
My hand goes to his shoulder as I step out of them for balance, and he turns his head to kiss my wrist.
“Get on the bed.” He jerks his chin, and I take two steps back while he crawls the two steps on his knees, his hands ghosting down my legs as I sit on the edge of the bed.
My heart kicks up in my chest, pitter-pattering to the rhythm of my nerves.
A million what-ifs drift into my mind and straight out again when he speaks.
“Spread for me. I want to see my reward first.”
I do as he asks, feeling vulnerable and sexy all at the same time, and his hands drift up the inside of my thighs, his eyes locked on me as he lets out a soft groan of anticipation.
“I can’t tell you how many times I thought about this.
How many nights I spent imagining the way you look.
Cursing myself for taking for granted the way I used to crawl under those sheets of yours in the middle of the night and spend hours making you come like this.
” He makes his way up the inside of my thigh with slow, languid kisses, punctuating each thought he has with them.
“The night you snuck into my room to confront me when you got back. After you left… I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” I confess when he’s inches away from taking what he wants.
“Tell me you touched yourself while you did it.” His lashes lift.
I nod.
“That’s my girl,” he whispers against my skin, teasing me with peppered, soft touches of his lips to mine that have me drawing in a sharp breath. “Did you let yourself come while you thought about me?”
“Yes.”
“Was it good?”
“Not as good as I remember the real thing being,” I answer truthfully. I could get close to the same sense of satisfaction but not quite there. Not without his eyes on me and his voice talking me through it.
His eyes light with a smug sense of satisfaction at being needed.
“Is this what you wanted when you asked me up to your room?”
“One of the things,” I admit.
“What were the others?” He pauses to look up at me, a devilish promise in his eyes when he does it.
“Do this well, and I’ll tell you.” I taunt him with my own promises for the future.
He drags his tongue over me in one exploratory pass as punishment for my sass. I gasp loudly, threading my fingers into his hair as I take another long stroke of his tongue, parting me and raking over the sensitive nerve endings of my clit.
I look up to see us in the mirror, him on his knees, fully focused on the task at hand, his shoulder blades moving as his palms graze my thighs. I spread wider for him, and he takes the cue easily, circling the tip of his tongue over my clit and kissing me again with whisper-soft touches.
I whimper quietly, and the sound drives him to tease me more.
His tongue flicks over my clit, and his hands slide up my thighs and under my ass, dragging me to the very edge of the bed.
He slips one of my legs over his shoulder and then the other, giving him full access to every inch of me.
I lean back onto my elbows, sad to lose the vision of us in the mirror as I stare up at the ceiling, but only for the briefest of moments.
Because then I realize the skylight in the ceiling is at an angle where the light bouncing off it provides a second mirror-like experience.
This angle is even more filthy than the last, and my stomach flutters with a smug sort of pride as I watch Bishop taking his time kissing and teasing every single inch of my pussy like it’s his last meal.
“The way I missed the taste of you. I’d do just about anything for that alone.” He presses a soft, wet kiss to the inside of my thigh and looks up at me, his eyes following mine to the ceiling. “You like the show, honey?”
“I think you were right about the frame. Looks even better this way.” I grin.
“Now you see why I need your input on aesthetics.” He flashes a bright smile at me before his mouth is on me again, his lips wrapped around my clit as two fingers slip inside me.
I thread my fingers into his curls, pulling his hair gently and begging for more.
He obliges by using his tongue to massage over me in tighter and tighter circles, and he adds another finger, picking up his pace until I’m pleading with him for mercy.
“Oh fuck. Please… Bishop…” His name fades on my lips, turning into incomprehensible cursing as I start to come hard. He lets me come down slowly, languidly lapping up every drop of wetness and kissing my skin softly as I writhe under his touch, giggling at the way his beard tickles my thighs.
“Fuck, I love hearing you say please.” He pulls back, holding out his hand and pulling me back into a seated position.
“Then you’ll like the next thing I’m going to ask. It starts with please.”
“Is it, ‘please, Bishop, let me fuck your face every night?’”
“No, but close.” I grin. “I was thinking more like please let me suck your dick, Bishop.”
He scrubs a hand over his face, and his eyes dart to the floor.
“I think we’re gonna have to save that for tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“’Cause the taste of you and hearing you was enough already. Then seeing you watching us like that? Fucking hell.” He rolls his shoulders like he’s uncomfortable. “I’m so fucking close right now; one touch of your tongue is gonna send me right over the edge.”
“Let me see.”
“What?”
“Stand up and let me see your cock, Bishop.”
He stands, slowly, reluctantly, and I can see where he’s pressing against the seams of his boxer briefs. I pull the waistband down, and his cock slips free of the fabric, so thick and hard that I believe him when he says he can hardly wait. He’s begging to be fucked.
I wrap my hand around him, and he groans loudly.
“Aspen, I’m serious. I won’t last if you keep doing this.”
“So am I.” I give him a wicked look and lean forward, darting my tongue out and teasing the underside of his cock with the lightest of licks.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” he curses loudly, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth. “Please, honey. Have some mercy on me. I want to take my time when you finally let me have those pretty fucking lips wrapped around me.”
“How do you want to come tonight then?” I ask, eager to do whatever he wants after that performance.
“I don’t. I want a rain check.”
“Have you talked to your dick about the rain check? I don’t know if he’ll make it.”
“He’ll—” He lets out a sigh of amused frustration. “I’ll be fine. I’d rather wait. I know it’ll be worth it.”
I roll my lip into a soft pout for a moment, sad that I don’t get to watch Bishop come apart at the seams tonight. But I’ll just save my energy for next time.
“All right. I’ll be good.”
Fuck having bad one-night stands when you can have Bishop fucking Bradford in your bed. I don’t know why any woman would want someone else if she had the choice. Least of all me.