It made her crazy.
Bishop wanted more.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she refused to release him as she wiggled against his frame.
She made sure to torment the hell out of Lucian as she rubbed wantonly against his dick.
He was as hard as steel.
That got her really wet.
There was no doubt in Lucian’s mind that he was going to combust. With Bishop wrapped around him, clinging to his body, he could see himself losing control.
She was driving him wild with her mouth on his, and he thought he might explode right there.
This was perfection.
“Bish, baby, you're killing me,” he moaned into the kiss.
“I want you right now!”
There was no way she was letting him off the hook. If he wanted some midday nookie, it was going to be hot, fast, and leave marks.
She bit him on the shoulder.
He nearly came.
When he rolled, she wouldn’t let go. Her mouth was attached to his neck, and it felt like she was devouring him alive. Every nerve in his body was on fire. All he needed now was to get her legs spread, and then he could find some relief from the need.
Maybe they should have used the shower.
He was burning up. Lucian was going up in flames, and he couldn’t control it.
“Hurry,” he muttered as she untwined her legs, helping him find the way into her body.
As soon as he nudged her, Lucian took that hot, delicious, slide into her.
That was all it took.
Bishop came and came hard.
Lucian groaned as her body tried to milk his. The way she wanted him drove him crazy.
It was as if she couldn’t get enough of him.
This would never get old. In fifty years, he’d still want her just as much.
He began moving as he pinned her body beneath him. Her arms were above her head as his hips did all the work. With each stroke, he kissed deeply into her body.
She begged.
She bucked.
She came again.
Bishop Monroe was his treasure. No woman had ever given him this gift. She responded to each and every touch.
It was perfection.
He’d never love anyone but her.
“Harder,” she begged. “Make me want more,” Bishop whispered, staring up into his one sweet eye.
Well, if that was what she wanted.
Driving into her body in one fluid motion, the pleasure almost did him in. Bishop fit him like a glove, so tight and perfect—as if made for him.
There was the gasp of her pleasure.
The moan from him.
“Not sure if I’m going to survive this,” he admitted as she swallowed his words.
She didn’t want to survive.
Lost in this pleasure, Bishop wanted him to take everything he could, use her, and fill her with that unfathomable love.
“More!” she whispered.
When he leaned over her body once more, Lucian held her to the bed with his bodyweight alone.
She was trapped.
Helpless.
His.
This was exactly how he liked his sexy wife. She may be tough and badass, but in here…
She was forever his.
“Lucian,” she gasped, as she came again from the repeated pummeling of that one spot.
He pulled free from her body, or he was going to fall with her. That’s the last thing he wanted.
Lucian wasn’t done.
Not even close.
To the victor went the spoils, and he’d fought hard to be with her. He’d fought one hell of a war to win her as his prize and he wanted to treasure the moment.
No, he wasn’t rushing. He was taking what was his on his schedule.
“I love you,” he whispered, earning the same words back from his wife.
She was his.
He was hers.
There was no way he was going to let this woman go. He’d found his other half and as husband and wife, they were unbreakable.
“Please,” she practically begged as she tugged his mouth back to hers, kissing him was like a drug.
He slid home again.
It made her dizzy and lightheaded all at once, but it was a ride she never wanted to get off for as long as she lived. Bishop lived for these sexy little moments.
He loved hearing her beg.
It fueled his fire.
Lucian changed the pace, still sliding in and out of her body, taking, giving, and enjoying. His mouth was on hers again as she invaded and he plundered back.
“More,” she whispered, as his breathing labored. “I want more, Lucian, my sexy pirate,” she pleaded, as he increased the speed and the depth of his fucking.
The movement of their bodies actually kept slamming the headboard off the wall.
The staccato surely echoed through the house, but Lucian didn’t care.
There, he felt like he was king.
She was his queen.
He was going to make sure that everyone knew she was his. For the rest of his life, Bishop would be by his side.
When she came again, he pulled himself from her body, flipped her over, lifted her hips, and took aim.
As she rode out the last of the orgasm, he drove himself into her body, taking her ass with abandon.
Bishop screamed.
Lucian pummeled her, falling into some weird haze where he couldn’t stop himself.
All he could do was focus on the woman beneath him.
“Maribel, you vile witch, you’re mine,” he whispered, over and over again. “I shall break you.”
It scared her. His voice took on an Irish brogue, and Bishop didn’t think he was teasing her.
Who the hell was Maribel?
What was wrong with her husband?
Bishop couldn’t stop him from taking her body. It was clear that Lucian was out of control. While a wild lover, he was never one to actually hurt her.
Now it was crossing a line.
“Lucian, stop!” she called.
He didn’t listen.
The air in the bedroom shifted, getting heavier, more oppressive, and there was a strange smell of perfume she didn’t recognize.
“Lucian!” she called, trying to get off her knees.
When he wouldn’t stop, she knew something was wrong. As he pummeled her body, she heard him.
“Please,” he whispered.
She stopped fighting. In that minute, she knew he was battling something bigger than they could even imagine. “I love you, Lucian. I’m yours. Stop fighting,” she said, as he continued taking her.
Lucian couldn’t focus. The room flickered around him, like when he was in the static.
The woman beneath him morphed back and forth.
It was Bishop.
It was a stranger.
It was Bishop again.
As he felt the end nearing, he got ready to cum. He couldn’t stop, and he couldn’t hold back.
“Maribel!” he shouted, as he came with such force.
Bishop held on, waiting for the storm to pass. When he collapsed beside her, she touched his cheek.
He was out cold.
Jesus!
Sliding out from beneath his body, Bishop tugged the comforter over him.
She pulled on her robe, and she had to get out of there.
Bishop ran for help.
Something was wrong with her husband.
Jesus!
He was possessed.
Chapter Five
Detective Maguire’s
Office
W ell, he was confused as hell. Once they left, his head continued to ache, and he couldn’t stop the noise in his mind. It was as if someone had flipped a station on the radio, filling his head with static. It was threatening to pull him under, and he wasn’t sure what to do.
All he knew was it hurt.
Like a bitch.
He was desperate, and needed someone to stop
the pain. At this point, it felt like his head was splitting open, and he was going to die.
Laird felt so helpless.
So lost.
“Someone help me,” he whispered, begging for help as he knelt on his office floor. He wasn’t sure who would hear him, but he couldn’t focus.
He wanted to be sick.
Again.
As he sat there, holding his head, he could hear her. She was a soft whisper into his mind. It was tentative as if she was afraid of him.
It took a second, and then he recognized it. He could smell her perfume, feel a cool breeze as he focused on her, and it helped calm him.
It was her.
It was the woman he’d met on the street. He’d know her presence anywhere.
“Brianna?” he asked, trying to find her in the room. His eyes were blurry and his head…
Jaysus!
He hurt.
She didn’t reply, but instead more cool soothing breeze came. It continued blowing through his mind to push back the pain.
It helped him to focus.
Then it got worse. His conscience kicked in. She was helping him, and he realized he’d screwed up. He thought about what he’d seen in his visions.
She was going to die.
‘Are you okay?’ she finally asked into his mind. ‘I heard you all the way over here in my room.’
He was filled with hope and regret.
It took him a second to figure out how to talk back to her. Then, he gave it a shot.
‘I don’t know if I am or not. I’m so damn confused by all of this. I went to bed normal, and then I woke up to today like this.’
She didn’t know what to tell him.
As far as she knew, Brianna had always been like this. She’d known about her gift since she was a teenager. As for Oracle, she’d heard the woman in her head for a couple weeks.
She’d been prepared.
‘Why me?’
Brianna went with the only thing she could do. Since he was angry, she tried to offer him the opposite.
Calm.
‘I hope you feel better, Mr. Maguire. I didn’t know that meeting you today would lead to this. I’m sorry,’ she offered.
His heart skipped.
‘Is this real? Is all of this possible?’
‘Yes, it is. You’re talking to me, aren’t you?’
She had a point.
‘Did you really see the killings?’ he asked, taking a chance. He had a job to do, and he felt horrible for how he’d hurt her—especially since she was trying to help him.
‘Yes. Unfortunately, I did.’
He could feel her.
‘You’re scared.’
Brianna didn’t try to hide it.
‘Yes, I am.’
He wanted to help her too. She’d risked his rage, and that was brave. She had to be terrified of how he’d behaved. Earlier, he was smooth and suave, and in his office…
He’d been a dick.
‘Where are you?’ he asked, hoping to bridge the gap between them.
‘Why? You told me to stay away. I don’t like being shouted at. I’ve had plenty of that in my life.’
He felt horrible.
Yeah, he was an idiot. He’d screamed at a woman for no reason—out of fear—and now he needed to fix it.
But how?
He took a chance.
‘I want to see you. I don’t like how I shouted at you and made you leave. I want to talk to you. I promise I won’t be an arsehole.’
There was a pause as she considered what he was asking from her.
Laird began to believe he wasn’t going to get a second shot at making a better impression.
Finally, he got his wish.
‘I’ll meet you at the park in ten minutes.’
Then, he felt the connection shut down. The pain returned, but he was willing to carry it. After all, he deserved it.
Laird wanted to see her again, more than he wanted to breathe. He didn’t understand why, but that desire was there.
So, he grabbed his things and headed out the door. The sun was still high in the sky, and it hurt his pounding head, but he pushed on to see her.
He’d screwed up, and he always fixed his shit.
Plus, being Garda, his duty was to protect and serve, and he was also curious as hell. She’d seen the killings, and that was huge. Brianna Collins might have answers.
If this was real, he had the chance to save more people, solve the two murders, and help her stay alive.
That was something right up his alley.
The last part of that worried him. If the visions were right, she was going to die and that didn’t sit right with him.
He had to take a chance.
Laird needed to risk it.
As he approached the park, he saw her there on a bench. She was still wearing the same dress, but she was wrapped in a shawl that matched her aqua eyes.
Their eyes.
He wanted to think she was something horrible, scary, or demonic, but he couldn’t. She was still just as beautiful, even if her face was troubled.
He couldn’t blame her.
Heading her way, Molly bounded toward her, reaching the woman first.
“Hello, Molly Maguire. Have you been a good doggy?” she asked the beastly moppet.
The dog licked her hands and face in response.
“I figured as much. What you lack in manners, you make up for in sweetness.”
He watched her with his dog.
She was gentle, loving, and he didn’t think it was an act. In fact, the second he approached her, his head began throbbing less, and he wasn’t feeling like someone was trying to turn his head inside out.
That worked for him.
So, he tried.
“Hey,” Laird said, announcing his arrival. “I like this park. I come here a lot with Molly.”
She warily watched him. She didn’t know what to expect from the man.
Laird saw the fear.
He’d put that there with his outburst.
“May I sit?” he asked.
She slid over.
“This is one of my most favorite places on the planet,” Laird offered, trying to keep it light.
It was hers too.
She loved it there, and she was beginning to see why. As soon as he sat, there was that connection.
She could feel it.
Oracle was right.
It had to be him.
“About earlier,” he said.
“It’s okay. You don’t have apologize or talk about it. I imagine it had to be a horrible day for you. I know when I figured out what was in my head, I struggled with it too.”
Yeah, struggled was a mild word for it.
He was really faltering.
His behavior was proof.
“That doesn’t give me the right to be cruel,” he admitted. “I was just caught off guard by you showing up there, and what had happened right before you arrived. A couple hours ago, I was chasing my dog down the street and finding a beautiful woman, and now, I’m finding out that something’s wrong in my head. That same woman is somehow connected to me.”
She stared at him. “Why do you think there’s something wrong with you, Detective?”
How could there not be?
He let that go.
The list…it was way too long.
“Help me understand what this thing is that we have. Why do we have it?”
Being a teacher, she knew when to be gentle, and when to be firm. This was a time to use softness. He needed it. The eyes were windows to the soul, and she could see his.
He was scared too.
That made Brianna want to be kind.
“I can’t speak for you, Detective Maguire, but I have a gift. I can’t say something traumatic happened and it appeared. I’ve always been different.”
He listened.
She was trying, so he would too.
“When I’m near you, I can focus better. I can hear, and I can see
past the static. I can explain it better with this. I feel like I’ve been walking around without glasses on, and then I ran into you and everything cleared up.”
Jaysus!
That’s was exactly what he felt. She focused everything for him.
“How do you tune it?” he asked. “What is it?”
“I don’t know how I tune it. My brain…it just does it when you’re close. As for what they are, they are voices. It’s actually a million voices, calling out and asking for help. If you listen, you can hear it. I think it’s people like us, trying to be saved. I imagine we were in that static for Oracle, and she found us.”
That was…creepy and astounding all at once. Still, he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that.
He had to admit, “When I’m near you, I don’t hurt. I just don’t understand why.”
She let him mull it over.
Brianna could see the look on his face, and he was genuinely struggling with it.
“Oracle freaked you out, huh?”
“She didn’t freak you out?” he asked. “You aren’t scared shitless by all of this?”
She pondered that.
Was she?
Did she have to be afraid?
“Well, I’m in a room all day alone with twenty kids who would like to run roughshod over me, so no…I’m not afraid by what she says. I can tell she’s being honest. I can feel the people in the static, and they need help.”
Sitting beside her, he could feel it too. Nothing she’d said was a lie. Brianna was being genuine.
That was beyond weird.
He felt like he wasn’t alone, but surrounded by countless others. That was the prickling sensation he’d felt all over his body. They were fingers, poking at him.
Even now, he felt surrounded. It was like he was having a conversation with her, while in a crowded room.
He had a question. “Did you know earlier?”
She shook her head. “I had no idea when I met you and Molly. I don’t know why I didn’t realize it was you. I can feel it now just sitting here.”
Yeah, he did too.
It was as if they there were ropes wrapped around them, and it was pulling them closer and closer. The harder he tried to get away, the tighter it became.
He’d never felt anything like this before. It’s like when he saw her. He knew.
She was special.
Laird was drawn to her.
Now he had to ask himself if it was all because of the case.
“It’s likely because you’re turned on now.”
Oracle Haunting (The Phoenix Files Book 4) Page 11