Saint Sahvrin’s Soldier #2
His whole body pulsed with her big laugh and he buried his mouth at her neck. “No more fucking and biting I guess.”
The way she froze beneath him brought his big laugh. “It’s allllll smiles and giggles till ma petite doesn’t get the kind of fucking she wants.”
“It’s just…”
“Oui, oui, it’s just… what? What is it?”
“Well, it’s not a want, it’s a need that I can’t stop, a need you started,” she added, smacking his shoulder.
He held her head tightly in his hands, forcing her to take his rapid-fire laughing kisses. “Ma petite will have to negotiate with Saint Sahvrin. Sweet talk him into giving you the keys to Bishop’s cock.”
“Me!” she gasped.
“You sound horrified,” he chuckled.
“No, I’m… mortified! You’re asking me to… practically betray the man who only wants to protect me.”
Oh how fucking funny.
She smacked his back. “He’s your fight not mine.”
“Mmmm,” he said at her lips, loving that she kissed and fussed him in the same breath. “I’ll find a way to put him out of our misery.”
“Nooo,” she whined softly, running her fingers through his hair. “I love him. I loved him first in fact,” she added much quieter, maybe worried.
He pulled up, seeing it in her face. “Ma Petite is smart to fear saying that,” he assured.
“Because Bishop is so mean mean and greedy!” she fussed, squealing when he devoured her neck.
Quick knocks hit the door and Beth sucked in a sharp breath with wide oh shit eyes.
“Who is it,” Bishop demanded, head angled toward the door.
She smacked him sharply and he looked at her. “So mean!” she mouthed.
“It’s Sinrik.”
His soldier flew into action immediately, stamping Sinrik as anomaly threat.
The massive read-out error hit his rage switch.
Fucking unbelievable. He’d pay his architecture’s definitions a visit first chance.
It wasn’t worried about Sinrik, just the missing data around him.
As if the hole in the file was the danger, not the man holding the fucking file. “What!” Bishop finally barked.
He clamped a hand over Beth’s mouth, his jealous rage not about to hear whatever was about to come out of it.
“It’s about the next coin and what it means.”
Hearing Sinrik’s anger pinged the part of his soldier that required immediate action.
He removed his hand from her mouth, and she grabbed his face and pulled him to her kiss.
“I love you, that’s what I wanted to say,” she whispered, smacking his face lightly.
“Mr. Sexy Bully that’s only mine and I’m only his! ”
His cock pulsed to life again.
“Oh,” she whispered in surprise, eyes softening.
“Coming,” he snapped with a thrust against her. He felt her cry before it reached her mouth and covered it with his hand, not about to let that prick hear what was only for his ears.
Her arousal hit back so hard it knocked the saint out of Sahvrin and blew the lock off that bite matrix and changed the entire field from protect and hide to declare and decree.
This time when he thrust, her eyes rolled shut in ecstasy and her gasp and moan hit his palm like a prisoner demanding to break free.
Bishop fought what crawled up his spine and clamped around his muscles. His fingers flexed against her cheeks as the pressure climbed higher, hot and animal, dragging his focus from her covered mouth to the one beyond that door.
He bucked his hips and the beast in his blood pulled at his hand. Her cries were its food, its power, its seal of authority.
He dragged his palm from her mouth and Beth sucked in air. His architect felt the matrix flare in response. He drove into her, his hunger scraping through his chest, swallowing her sharp cry and pulling them both into the growing vortex.
He locked his fist in her hair and forced her head back as he drove in hard again, mouth open and hot at her neck, getting the blast of her ecstasy right in his fucking ear.
Another knock hit the door.
Bishop scraped his canines along her skin with another vicious thrust, another shriek, another warning claim.
He lifted his head and looked at Beth, the drunk look in her gaze feeding what couldn’t be stopped. He climbed onto the desk, bracing his knees wide and locking her hips in both hands. This mating force demanded the very top. In the open. It wanted all eyes to see it. A demonstration, a challenge.
He drove into her and his world became the wet heat of her body, the trembling strength in her thighs, the taste of those shocked cries.
Another knock. Four hard ones.
Bishop answered back, his loud groan half growl as he pulled her into his thrusts, forcing her cries higher, her power higher. It was part of it. Wrapping around the architecture until everything blurred into something machines couldn’t define.
The bite burned at the center of him now alongside his climax.
His canines pulsed steadily as his release gathered, dragging every nerve toward the same place. His body meshed with hers as he found her throat and Beth locked her hands in his hair, body tightening around him.
“Oh God,” she sobbed. “Bishop.”
He held the crown of her head and plunged his teeth and cock together.
Their climax ripped through him, his fingers clinching in her hair. Her blood became their bond, her cries its seal. And their love its rite of passage.
In the wreckage, Beth’s whisper broke in his ear. “Morgue.”
Bishop froze.
His mouth eased from her throat, breath ragged, blood still warm on his tongue. He lifted his head.
Her eyes were dazed, wet, confused. One hand drifted to the bite, the other to her womb. “Why did I say that?”
He licked softly along the bite, clotting and numbing the punctures, then sealing it with the mate-recognition protein that wrote his name in her blood.
He kissed her lips softly at several angles before whispering, “I need to deal with Sinrik.”
Her nod and gentle kiss loosened his muscles. “I’ll go see if Cherie is here yet. I love you.”
He lifted and she pulled his mouth back to hers.
“That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced,” she added.
He caught her jaw and took her mouth one last time, making it count.
“Zhuh tem ahn-kor ploo,” he whispered.”