Secret Sin

3

“The. “Fuck.” Each savage word punctured the tension-filled air around us with lethal precision. Bishop slowly brought his blistering stare to mine. Oh s**t. Oh s**t. Oh s**t. Oh s**t. This was not going how I’d planned. He knew. He knew exactly what I’d done, and he was livid. “It’s okay, Bishop. I wanted this. I promise.” I tried to reassure him. “And what about me, Pippa?” he barked. “Did you stop to think about whether I wanted this?” Ouch. The s****l siren inside me shriveled up like the poor souls in The Little Mermaid after striking a deal with the evil sea witch. I lowered my feet, wincing as he slid out of me, and kept my eyes cast downward. I’d been so eager to finally know what it felt like to be with a man that I hadn’t considered the consequences if I’d been wrong. Bishop’s disgust bathed me in a sticky coating of shame. “f**k, that’s not what I meant,” he grumbled. “That’s not how it should have happened, Pippa. Your first time shouldn’t be up against a goddamn wall.” He raked a hand through his hair and scanned the room as if searching for answers. “f**k it. No going back now, so I might as well do this right.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me back to his bedroom. I tried not to feel like a misbehaving child, but it was hard not to. I’d deceived him, and I knew it. Guilt somehow whitewashed over every ounce of courage I’d felt minutes earlier, leaving me vulnerable and uncertain. We stopped at the foot of his masculine king-sized bed. His room was comfortable, even if a little messy. A few pieces of laundry dotted the floor, and his bed wasn’t made, but all the furnishings were expensive, and the décor cohesive. It was refined but lived in. I liked it. A lot. Bishop faced me and brought a finger up under my bra strap, slowly drifting his touch down to the top of my breast. “How could someone so f*****g incredible have never been touched before?” His question was rhetorical since all of his attention focused on the movement of his fingers. I couldn’t have responded had I wanted to. The intensity of his words and mesmerizing feel of his touch rendered me speechless. Bishop reached behind me to unclasp my bra—the last article of clothing between us. He didn’t immediately slip it off me. Instead, he brought his fingers up to the thin straps on my shoulders and teased them downward, his hungry stare fixed on each sliver of newly revealed skin until gravity took hold, and the lace fell to the floor. My n*****s puckered impossibly tighter. Breaths grew shallow. I felt so much more exposed than I had before, and it had nothing to do with my clothes. Everything about this felt different than it had when we’d first entered the apartment. Our sultry playfulness had morphed into something infinitely more poignant. The air itself felt saturated with emotion, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to breathe it in or run for the nearest exit. “I should tan your ass for pulling a stunt like this, but I suppose you’ve been punished enough.” His eyes lifted to mine, finally softening a fraction. “Are you in any pain?” I shook my head. “Not anymore.” He nodded once, then cut his eyes to the bed. “On your back.” I did as he instructed but hesitated when he lowered himself and motioned for me to spread my knees. “I’m not sure you want to do that. I may have bled a little.” Hands on my knees, he opened me wide. “If I didn’t want to do this, I wouldn’t.” His lips kissed my inner thigh, working slowly higher with nips and licks that brought a fire raging to life in my belly. “Tell me you’ve at least played with yourself before.” “Yes. I’m not a prude, just overprotected.” Teeth nipped at my outer lip for my smart response. I gasped, my inner muscles clenching tight. “Please, touch me. I need you to touch me,” I panted. “I’m getting there, kitten. You can’t rush these things.” Bishop slid a finger inside me. I was more sore than I’d realized, but when he hooked that finger to tap at a spot inside me, the pleasure already simmering in my veins magnified tenfold. I moaned. Loudly. “Jesus, it feels so good.” I’d had orgasms before, but this was different. With Bishop’s fingers stirring up a fire inside me, my body quivered and quaked with the impending threat of a tidal wave of pleasure. When he finally sucked on my c**t, stimulating the swollen bundle of nerves, the wave crashed over me so thoroughly that I lost all control. A cry of pure bliss clawed its way from my throat. My body convulsed, and I was pretty sure my soul momentarily left my body. As I recovered, Bishop covered my body with his, then kissed me deeply. “Taste yourself on my tongue, kitten. Now you’re ready.” He raised my knees back and nudged himself an inch inside me. I felt an odd emptiness after my o****m. Like my body knew something was missing, but the pressure of his intrusion had me reflexively tensing. “Easy, baby. Try to relax. I don’t want to hurt you more than I already have.” I nodded and took a calming breath. “Thatta girl.” His voice grew tight with strain. He rocked into me one slow inch at a time until he was buried all the way to my womb. “f**k, this tight little p***y was made for me.” “God, Bishop. I feel so full.” The words were nothing but wisps of air. All my energy was focused on reconciling this strange new feeling of absolute possession. Of being totally and completely enveloped by a man. He had captured all my senses—rendered me helpless but to absorb his taste, touch, and even smell. He was everywhere and everything, and I couldn’t get enough. Then he started to move. Slow and steady at first, he gradually pumped faster and harder until nothing else existed but our intoxicating connection. No expectations or rules. No consequences or responsibilities. We were suspended in a magical moment consisting of pure carnal desire. He pressed my knees farther back, curving my spine and allowing him even deeper. I clung to his body, urging him onward and pleading for more. “Is this what you wanted, kitten?” he asked through heavy pants. “To have my c**k buried balls deep inside you?” “Yes.” My eyes rolled back as a shimmering brilliance teased and sizzled between my legs. Like my o****m before but different. More. As though any release I’d ever had in the past was just a sample of what was possible. Of what I was about to experience. “f**k, I want to see my c*m drip from your wet pussy.”