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He sighs against my mouth. “That’s my girl.”
I swallow the desperate sound that might be a whimper.
I take the hard turn toward destruction, gripping his suit to hold on and enjoy the ride.
Gonna be a loooooong way down when I have to let him go.
Bishop obliterates my self-preservation, my critical thinking, and every other ability I’ve got, except the one to moan.
He grips my chin, tilting our kiss to the angle he wants.
I want it too.
Jin’s dominance feels like being devoured.
But Bishop’s control makes me want to offer him my wrists.
The jagged softness of his purr smooths the pinch of his fingers and it’s just—
So right.
Seduced by champagne, I submit to his lips.
Bishop blanks my head, giving me an addictive peek at how good we could be if I weren’t broken.
Then his palm finds my shoulder.
Creeps north.
Kiss canceled.
Before he tastes my shudder, I rip from his mouth and clamp his wrist.
Bishop pants, burning with feral intensity he can’t hide behind a smirk.
“Bish.” My voice cracks. “Help me lie.”
“Tell me.” Embers burn in his eyes.
“I need you to not touch my neck.” The words scrape, dragging antlers up my throat. “And I need you to not ask why.”
Darkness flashes, a hint of smoke, but Bishop can hide a quickie in a hot minute.
He pivots fast.
“Done.” When Bish smiles, there’s no smirk, no sarcasm, no sneer.
He smiles soft. Peach fuzz and a promise I’m not crazy letting him inside.
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.” Bish rests knuckles on my cheek. “Unless you have more to share?”
“No.” When I shake my head, his skin rubs.
“Queen.” He thumbs the corner of my lip, rubbing a shine of drool—his and mine.
Then the germaphobe sucks his thumb.
