A SECRET SIN

3

This was it. The moment I shed that damn virgin label and strode confidently into womanhood.

A triumphant grin crept across my face before I slammed my lips on his in the same instant Bishop

thrust inside me.

I did it! And I didn’t even wince, even though that s**t hurt!

I was so caught up in my own elation and dizzying emotions that it took me a second to realize

Bishop had gone inhumanly still.

“What.

“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.”