Page 123 of Bad Bishop
Fuck the fear and trauma out of one another.
We won. Not the rapists, and the abusers, and Igor, and that faceless asshole who took her that night.
We. Won.
We stayed like this—thrusting, bucking, arching, licking, laughing, until Lila turned serious. Her smile fell. She threw her head back and gave one sharp moan. She spasmed in my arms, her muscles clenching, ripples of goose bumps cascading down her perfect silken skin.
It was my cue to finally let go.
“I’m coming, sweetheart.”
She nodded, caressing my temples with a loving smile.
I came inside her, the satisfaction of doing sobrutal.
I rolled over beside her as soon as I was finished, tossing an arm over my face.
We were quiet for a few minutes. Just panting and staring at the horrid, pink, starred ceiling.
She was the first to turn to me. “When can we do it again?”
I suppressed a laugh. “As soon as we get back home, I’m canceling my shit for the next forty-eight hours so we can practice.”
Her face lit up. “Good. It was fun.”
I wanted to agree but was too fucking stunned to do so.
She licked her lips, suddenly unsure. “You liked it, right?”
Oh, God,Gealach, if only you knew.
“That I did,” was all I could manage.
I put my hand over my mouth so she couldn’t see it but spoke the words audibly.
“You eejit bastard. You’re so fucking screwed.”
_______
When we returned to the table, the chatter quieted down and all eyes swung to us. I had smoothed out my hair and suit to stoic perfection before we left her room, but Lila looked exactly like a woman who just got railed hard and fast while biting her childhood teddy bear’s bum to stifle the moans. Her hair was in complete disarray, her dress unevenly flung over her legs, lips swollen, and makeup smeared.
We sat down in undignified silence in our seats and grabbed our cutlery. The food was cold, curling at the edges as it began to lose its freshness.
“Well, this is…” Enzo blew out a breath, chuckling good-naturedly. “Definitely putting the nicknameDeathlessto the test. The fuck you doing, Callaghan?”
“Your sister,” I drawled, taking a sip of my wine. “Thought we were clear on that.”
Chiara looked ready to faint. Good. One less person to gawk at my wife.
“Ugh.” Enzo downed his wine like a shot. “I miss the person I was twenty minutes ago.”
“This really couldn’t have waited a couple hours till you got home?” Luca scowled.
Lila twirled spaghetti around her fork and slurped it, ignoring the chatter by setting her attention on her plate.
“What my wife wants, my wife gets.”
“Even if that thing is a dead husband at the dinner table?” Achilles mused.
