Page 90 of Bishop

“No.” She shakes her head, her hands latching onto my shoulders while I walk into her, forcing her backward, taking her to the wall beside the door. “That’s not what I meant.”

I place a palm against the plaster, caging her while my other hand slides down her abdomen and under the elastic of her panties. “Explain.”

Her siren song has me by the balls, the floral scent of her shampoo carving itself into my lungs.

“I meant that nobody else has before,” she murmurs.

My hand freezes beneath her underwear. My entire body follows suit.

Shit.

This hole I’m digging is getting deeper, drawing close to the earth’s crust where the devil lays in wait.

“You’re telling me no man has ever made you come?” I sneer.

As if this could get any worse. The temptation. The need.

Now livid rage is added to the mix, along with the sharp hook of ownership that waits to dig its metallic length under my skin.

“Once we’re done here, you’re going to write me a list,” I grate against her neck. “I want the names of every son of a bitch who took from you without giving in return.”

“And what will you do with the names on that list?” Her hips arch into my touch as if to spur my fingers back into movement.

I slide my hand lower, each inch of smooth skin fueling my stupidity. “I’ll kill them all.”

She shudders, her grip on my shoulders increasing. “That shouldn’t be a turn-on.”

It shouldn’t be something I crave either. Avenging her honor isn’t my business. The motivation should be kept strictly to rewriting the insults made against Lorenzo. Against Langston’s reputation.

But that’s not why my instincts are frazzled.

I want to feel the beating hearts of those men in my hands while they regret what they did to her. To hear them wish with their dying breaths that they’d never touched this woman. Never played with what’s mine.

Fuck.

I grind my teeth. Close my eyes.

“Don’t tease me.” She grabs my wrist, attempting to guide my touch. “I need this.”

I fucking need it too. Like a goddamn hole in the head.

She’s warping my mind. Making me fall under her spell, whether intentional or not.

I clench my knuckles against the wall and descend farther.

She drags in a ragged gasp, her clasp on my arm tightening. But those inhales stop.

“Breathe, belladonna.” I succumb to temptation, skimming my teeth along the perfectly sculpted line of her jaw. “Let me hear how much you want me.”

She groans. “Of course you’re going to be an arrogant bastard at a time like this.”

“If I could change my personality to get you off, I would. But this is me.” My fingers glide to the crevice of her pussy, her hips bucking when I graze her clit.

She’s sensitive. Attuned to the slightest touch.

I go farther. Lower. I part her sex with my fingers and slide to her entrance.

She’s wet. Lush. So fucking ready for me it’s excruciating.

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