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As soon as I have control over my body, I pull his mouth to mine, and he fits himself between my legs again. He fumbles with the condom, sheathing himself.
“You ready for me now?” Bishop circles sensitive skin.
“So ready.”
His elbow rests against my ribs, forearm under my shoulder, thumb stroking gently up the side of my neck, as he positions himself against me and eases inside, inch by slow inch.
Bishop is exactly on the right side of too much—too much man, too much cock, just plain too much. He hovers over me, hips slowly coming to rest against mine. He nuzzles into my neck, exhaling heavily as his lips part. The soft stroke of his tongue follows the nip of his teeth, and he makes a sound somewhere between lust and pain.
“Are you okay?” I run my hands down his back, and his muscles flex under the smooth, damp skin.
He nods against my throat and then kisses his way up my neck.
“We should stop if you think it’s going to set you back.” I say the words while digging my fingernails into his ass, so they lack some of the conviction I was hoping for.
This time he makes a noise that sounds a lot like a snort and then bites my chin. When his mouth meets mine, he deepens the kiss for a few slow strokes before he pulls back. Those gorgeous, lust-drenched hazel eyes of his meet mine, and a lazy smile tips one corner of his delicious mouth. “My balls could literally be on the verge of exploding right now, and there’s still no way in hell I would stop. Not unless you wanted me to, anyway.” He rolls his hips. “Do you want me to stop, Stevie?”
“N-no. Just go easy.”
“Don’t worry, bae, I’ll take good care of you.” He covers my mouth with his again before I can protest, since that wasn’t at all what I meant.
Bishop finds a slow, steady rhythm that hits my magic spot inside with every well-placed, gentle thrust. When I feel like I’m close to another orgasm, I push on his chest. He pulls back, eyes on fire, brow furrowed, lips thinned in a line, since he’s hovering midthrust.
“I don’t want to stop; I just want to change positions,” I assure him.
That smile of his that I adore so much appears. “Always on duty, aren’t you?”
“Just looking to change the view.”
“I think it has more to do with you wanting to be in control, but however you want to spin it.” He pushes up and sits back on his knees, holding on to my hips to maintain the connection.
I prop myself up on my elbows, appreciating the view of this glorious man kneeling between my thighs. He looks down, shifting his hips forward on a low hiss as he watches his erection disappear inside me. He runs his palms up the inside of my thighs, and his thumbs sweep along the juncture as he pulls back out and circles my clit on the next slow thrust.
The purposeful pressure, combined with the slow in and out, sends me over the edge. The world a wash of white and stars and bliss. Again. When I fall back down from the clouds, I find myself chest to chest with Bishop again, only this time I’m sitting in his lap. Just like the first time we almost kissed, but then he was too early into recovery and all the threads of restraint we were holding on to hadn’t snapped yet.
“God, I love making you come,” Bishop says on a guttural groan.
“You probably owe me at least another thousand orgasms for being such an insufferable ass.”
He lifts and lowers me, faster, harder, fingers sliding into my hair, lips locking, teeth clashing, as we fight to keep the kiss from breaking. I come again, limbs wrapped around him, and he follows after me, all his hard edges melting, letting me see a different, vulnerable side of him that isn’t in any way related to his injury.
Afterward he pulls me down so I’m sprawled over his chest, and we fall asleep like that, wrapped in each other.CHAPTER 24
A SPLASH OF COLD WATER
Stevie
I wake up in the morning feeling deliciously sore. I run my hand across the sheets and scoot over in search of Bishop’s warm body, but his side of the bed is empty. I crack a lid and check the time. It’s well after ten.
The bathroom door is closed; the sound of the toilet flushing comes from the other side. I stretch out, muscles protesting. I could definitely use an epsom salts bath. That could be a fun thing to do with Bishop.
My phone buzzes from my nightstand several times in a row. It’s probably Pattie or Jules. I nab the device and frown as the screen lights up with yet another alert. I have more than a hundred unanswered messages on a variety of social media.
