Chapter 47
BISHOP
She tasted of fire.
Just like the red tips of her hair that curled in around her lush breasts. Dark fire.
I dragged her off the bar stool and into me. The pomegranate and spice infused the kiss. In my head I knew something was wrong. This was no regular attraction. I’d scratched plenty of itches in my day, but I’d always been in control.
There was no steering this. It was crawling inside of me like a fever and I wanted more of it. Her clever fingers snuck into my jacket to worm their way under the band of my thermal shirt. The nip of her nails against my skin only intensified the need.
A distant part of my brain told me to step away. That she was trouble. Whatever this was… more than trouble.
This whole night had been trouble. From the rain pushing me here, to the flashes of light leading me to this town—to this bar.
Had it been to this woman?
Nay, to this witch. There was no doubt she was of the craft. The symbol of Lilith was branded to her flesh and in the silver she was adorned with. She could be of dark magic. Her taste swirled inside me, dark as sin.
Did I care?
Not right then I didn’t.
Not when her taste was on my tongue. And if I had my way, I’d know the other flavors of her body soon enough.
I tore my mouth from hers and her huge golden eyes were hazy with lust. The coppery tones flashing from the firelight over my shoulder. Some sort of spell work?
What did she want from me?
To trap me in a haze of lust so she could rob me?
Or was she an energy witch?
I was a tasty morsel for energy… Fuck, her breasts were pressing into my chest and words fled. She went on her toes for more and I gave it.
Maybe she was a succubus. I was pretty sure the woman in the corner of the bar was. Her raven hair did a good job of hiding her true visage, but the sharp edges of her cheekbones gave her away.
But this woman.
She was something else.
I couldn’t read her. I was losing something with her, but it wasn’t energy. In fact, each stroke of her tongue infused me with a yearning so strong I could only deepen the kiss for more. As if I was the one taking from her.
A throat cleared from behind the bar. I ripped my mouth from hers but didn’t look away from her.
“As much as I’m enjoying the show, this isn’t that kind of bar,” the deep voice said.
I finally dragged my attention off the woman and to the bartender. He wiped his hands on the towel at his hip, one eyebrow arched. “Everything good?”
“Go away,” I snarled.
His eyebrows both shot up. “You’re in my bar, boyo.”
The hint of an accent hummed from him. An old language. One I hadn’t heard in ages. But I was too enthralled with my little witch to let the curiosity sink too far into my bones.
“Is everything all right, here?” He asked again.
The witch threw a bawdy smile over her shoulder. “I think I’m going to take this one home for the night.”
“Are you sure?”
She pulled a few crumpled bills from her pocket. “Yes.” Her nails dug into my skin and I hissed. “Don’t worry, he’ll be safe with me.”
The bartender’s face split into a grin. “I have no doubt you can handle yourself, daughter of Lillith. Just making sure.”
I slipped my arm around her shoulders and drew her more firmly into my side. I didn’t like how the bartender worried over her. She was mine.
No.
I’d just met her.
I should have bristled at that thought, but it only calmed the thrumming inside me. I dipped my head again for another taste of her. Of the honeyed dark flavor tipped in pomegranate. I sucked it off her tongue where it seemed to regenerate with each breath.
She wound her arm around my neck and I lifted her off her toes for a moment.
I heard a distant giggle. I set her down and looked around, but there was no one there.
She laced her fingers in mine and dragged me away from the bar and the sudden influx of people looking for a drink on the cold nights.
She led me around the tables and back toward the door.
The cold rain knocked us both back a step.
I stripped off my leather jacket and bundled it over her thin sweater.
She glanced up at me, her copper eyes wide at the gesture. She twisted something out of the coat and over her shoulder–a bag big enough to hold far too many secrets.
I just grunted and hustled her out into the wet night. Did no one treat this woman like she was one of worth? It ignited an unreasonable anger inside me. Instead of heading for the parking lot, she hurried to the sidewalk. The heavy bag bounced against her hip as she dragged me into the night.
“Where are we going?”
“The Inn.”
“You don’t live here either?”
She burrowed her chin into my jacket. “Nope.”
I rushed up behind her, unable to be away from her.
My hand slid across her hip into the dip of her jeans already wet from the rain, or still damp from earlier, who knew.
The inn wasn’t too far away, but it still felt like we’d never get there.
The lights were low as if they were buttoned down against the weather as well.
The front desk was empty. We paused at the stairs. “Yours or mine?”
She reached back for me, drawing me tighter against her. “Who has the bigger bed?”
“Mine’s a king.”
“You win.” She turned in my arms, going on her toes.
I boosted her up and she wrapped strong legs around me.
I groaned in her mouth, striding past the stairs to the narrow hallway to my room.
Either it was the weather or the proprietress had seen me as a mark—regardless, the only room available had been the honeymoon suite.
“My key is in the jacket,” I said against her mouth.
“Right.” She tightened her arms around my neck. “Search me.”
In the soft glow of the sconce above the door showed off the burnished undertones of her dark hair and honeyed skin. I fumbled into the pockets of my jacket that swam on her smaller frame. She tightened her ankles at my lower back, digging her heeled boots into my ass.
“Hurry.” She moved to my ear, nipping at the lobe. “You’re taking too long.”
“You try doing this and holding onto you.” She suddenly yelped when I lifted her higher and over my shoulder so I could see the freaking doorknob. I opened the door and kicked it closed. Her bag dropped to the floor.
“Where the hell is the light?” She giggled as we both felt along the walls for a switch. The room wasn’t new by any means. Well cared for, but modern it was not.
I turned with her in my arms and her boot bumped into a sconce on the wall.
“Wait, wait. Turn back around,” she said between laughs.
“There’s no fucking switch.”
“Candle.” She reached out and her fingertips created a flame, adding a bit of flickering light into the darkness. “That’s better.”
“Not enough to see you,” I growled.
“Enough to see the bed.”
“There’s truth in that.” My eyes adjusted to the minimal light and I dumped her on the bed.
All her dark, flame tipped hair spread out under her. She pushed up on her elbows and I could make out the curve of her lips and the slash of her white teeth in the dark.
I knelt on the bed, pulling her foot up to my chest. “What kind of combat were you looking for, witch?”
“I like how they look.”
I seethed then attacked the laces of the boots.
While they were hot in theory—the millions of eyelets I had to loosen were not.
Watching her writhe on the bed, however, was worth the effort.
Her hips lifted lightly as if she was hearing some internal beat.
Since it was swimming inside of me as well, I couldn’t look away.
“Fucking hell,” I growled as the boot finally came free. Under the ridiculous boot was a pair of knee-high black socks with red bats. I glanced up at her with an arched brow.
She just wiggled her toes with the same saucy grin on her face.
I huffed out a laugh of my own. One I hadn’t felt inside of me in too many years to count. Distantly, something niggled at me, but I pushed it away in favor of the delicious woman who was allowing me time.
Time.
The word whispered in the back of my mind. I pushed it away when I lifted her other foot to my chest and repeated the procedure. Her stocking foot flexed against my thigh, inching higher.
“Patience, witch.”
“Sloan,” she said as she lifted her arms, arching her back. My jacket was still on her, but the opening had widened to show off the snug wine-colored sweater she wore. Now that I could actually see her, I noted the ties showing off the intriguing bounty waiting for me.
“Sloan…” I tried her name, letting the sounds and letters run around on my tongue. Finally, her second boot was free. I widened her legs, the damp denim cupping her lush thighs.
It was a rare treat to find a woman who embraced their curves these days. Instead, so many were rail thin reminding me of days when hunger clawed at my people turning them to skin and bones. I pushed that away. It wasn’t for here. Wasn’t for now.
I dug my fingertips into her firm muscles and up to the apex of her thighs. “Still want me?”
She lifted her hips the closer I got to the seam. “Outrageously.” One hand lowered to her breast, cupping it provocatively.
I lowered myself over her, pressing my hardness to her softness until the friction made us both groan.
I pressed both hands to the bed, caging her in as I took her mouth.
That blissful tartness to her tongue imbued the kiss with the smoky flavor of her.
Of Sloan. Of the pomegranate taste that lingered with a hint of spice.
Of her spice.
Of the flavor I couldn’t get enough of.
When I lifted my mouth, she followed me up off the bed to get to me. Her arms wound around my neck, dragging me back down.
“More,” she said with a groan.
“I need more skin.”
She nodded, suddenly, the syrupy laughter between us a thing of the past. One taste of her and the hunger rose to a fevered pitch once more. The light in the room slowly strengthened as our heartbeats increased.
I pushed my jacket off her and she went for the hem of my thermal shirt, pushing it up so those clever fingers could get to my skin. She wrapped strong legs around my hips and twisted until I rolled and she rose over me.
She shoved the jacket off as well as the intriguing sweater with the intricate ties that held it together over her mouthwatering breasts. My fingers tightened on her hips, jerking her against my anxious cock.
Her copper eyes flared then her heavy lids lowered as we instinctively hit a rhythm.
Her hands went to her red lace covered tits, plucking at her nipples I could just barely see at the edge of her bra cups.
They practically spilled over. A hint of cinnamon tinted nipple peeking between her fingers as she lifted them free, shoving the cups down.
“Harder,” I said roughly.
Her eyes slitted open, watching me as she rolled the tight tips for me.
I dragged the seam of her jeans over my shaft, needing the hint of pain until I could get inside of her.
She released one breast to push at my shirt. “Off.”
I rolled to a seated position enough to drag the shirt over my head and off.
Her eyes flared wide at the network of tattoos on my chest. The ink-spelled runes I’d carved into my skin over the years adding to my magic.
My offering to the pain my family had brought on this world. What I wished to atone for.
For the first time, I was proud of the visage I offered.
The muscles and the scars I carried pleased her.
I could feel it in the air between us.
Her cool fingers trailed over them reverently but there was one goal in her mind. My belt. She jerked at the buckle and I growled when she dipped beneath the cotton, button, and zipper to fist the first few inches of me.
She drew a fingertip across my head and I hissed at the precum she found and lifted to her mouth. I tried to roll her again. I needed to see her, touch more skin, but she had other plans.
She inched down my thighs and peeled my jeans free. Luckily I was a zipper guy for my boots. They thudded to the floor and she divested me of the rest of my clothing, then shimmied out of her own.
I sat up and slid down the bed.
I wanted to be the one to strip her, but she was too quick and then I didn’t give a fuck. All that golden skin was free for my gaze to race over. She also had ink in intriguing places.
A sigil on her hip that seemed to glow.
Freckles that tracked over her ribs and turned into a dainty little pattern of stars as if she’d used them to create the tattoo. It curled under the curve of her breast making my mouth water.
“Get back here, witch.”
She flipped her hair back as she crawled to me, taking me in hand once more. “This is an impressive cock…” She flicked her tongue over my head before taking as much of me as she could into her mouth.
My hips lifted off the bed. “Fuck.”
She ran her breasts over the base of my cock as she let my cock pop free of her mouth to tuck them between the softness and she smiled. “What do I call you?”
“Do you mean what name will you scream?”
Her wet, swollen mouth twisted into a feral grin. “Remains to be seen.”
I tangled my fingers into her hair and dragged her mouth to mine. The kiss carnal and tinged with the tart drink again.
How the hell was it still between us?
But the question faded as our flavors mingled. I could taste myself in the mix and it activated something primal inside of me. I lifted her and flipped her onto her back, I dragged my beard down her neck to her breasts but didn’t stop there.
I’d be back to those.
Right now, I needed to get to something far more intriguing. I followed the stars along the underside of her breast, thumbing the nipple of her other breast until she arched under me. I followed the soft swells of her skin to her belly button and lower to the trim triangle over what I wanted most.
“Bishop,” I said just before I slipped my tongue between her folds to find her clit.
She sunk her fingers into my hair and dragged in a breath as I settled in for my meal.
Her hips rose and undulated under my touch as I learned her body for what felt like forever. The light in the room dimmed and pulsed as I found the right combination for her. Just as the candles and every light fixture in the room bloomed hot, I retreated and she dug her heel into my back.
“Sadist,” she muttered.
I grinned up from between her thighs.
“I haven’t heard my name on those lips yet, witch.”
“Because I haven’t come yet.”
I slipped two fingers into her swollen wetness and she hissed as I added a third. I dragged my wet beard over her skin knowing I’d be wearing her scent for a long damn time.
Forever.
The whisper was back again. This time I shoved it down.
There was no forever allowed for me.
I was eternal, but there was no one who could walk forever with me.