by Tara Lee
“I love that my touch has you so wanton, brat.”
I gasp as he slips his hand into my panties. His fingers brush over my clit, and this time the moan slips free and I forget why I even came here.
“I'm mad at you,” I whisper.
“I love it when you're mad, baby.”
He growls and pushes his groin into me. His cock thrusts into me, and I am pretty sure my eyes roll into the back of my head.
“Are you still mad, brat?”
He kisses down my neck, and goosebumps appear. I moan; his teeth graze my earlobe. He licks a trail behind my ear, down my neck, and stops at my collarbone.
“Bishop.”
He slides down to his knees. He leans forward and inhales me.
“Fucking hell, brat” He hisses, good God.
Bishop slides my panties down ever so slowly. Torturing me to no end.
“Fuck, baby, this pussy is fucking dripping.”
My fingers grip his hair, pulling at the ends as his tongue dives into me.
“Oh my God” I moan, his tongue lapping me up.
“That's it, baby, scream my name.” Oh, he's got jokes.
“Stop talking and eat that pussy.”
He chuckles and slips two fingers inside me. His tongue slides down, going from bottom to the top. I gasp out loud, and he eats me like a man starved.
“Oh God.” I moan.
Bishop slides my leg over his shoulder, his tongue going deeper. This time I clutch his hair so tight as my leg wobbles, giving way. Bishop lifts me with ease and holds me against him.
He licks me until I scream, my orgasm ripping through me.
Bishop stands with me in his arms, and his towel falls at his feet. I bite down on my lip, and he walks us to the wall.
He leans me against it and growls into my ear.
“Fuck, brat, your pussy is like fucking heaven.”
He hoists me so my legs wrap around his waist,his cock sliding against me, my arms wound around his neck, hanging on for dear life. I moan, and he grinds against my pussy.
“Damn, brat, I need you.”
Bishop's eyes lock with mine. He slowly rocks forward, filling me to the hilt. His lips collide with mine, and he slams into me. His kiss turns harder, deeper, like a man deprived of pussy.
My back bangs against the rough wall— He pulls out and slams back inside me, the air whooshing from my lungs. I'll ache tomorrow, but I'll gladly accept my fate.
We both groan, and my head falls back as Bishop slowly pulls out and then he thrusts back into me.
He repeats this over and over, driving me insane.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
“Bishop, I need you.” I pant.
“You got me, piccolina, fuck do you have me.” His hands torment my ass cheeks, and he thrusts back and forth. He curls his hand around my hip, encouraging me to ride him harder, faster...deeper.
“Bishop , I can't... It's…”
He leans toward me pinning me to the wall, and runs his nose along my neck. I shiver. One of his hands grips my neck; his fingers wrap around my skin. I gasp, and the electricity bounces around between us. Every nerve ending in my body is on fire.
“Your scent, brat.” He inhales next to my hair.
“Fuck, your lips.” He presses his lips to mine lightly, almost teasing us both.
He swells inside me, and grunts. My walls clench, and I know I'm close.
“You better come, baby, I'm about to fill this pussy to the brim.” Bishop grinds into me slowly. Torturously.
“Ahhh.” I moan. My nails scratch down his shoulder blades, and I scream his name, piercing the skin.
He hisses as I climax so hard I see stars. I hold on to him, and he follows and lets go.
When we both manage to catch our breath. Bishop kisses me hard, his tongue giving me an intense pleasure I almost blackout.
I was crazy to think I could go without this man. I need him more than I ever needed him before.
Bishop is never gentle or tender with me, he is never slow or sweet; he always imprints himself onto my soul.
“Mine,” he growls and then carries me to his bedroom, his cock ready and hard for round two.
After Ethan and I talk to Brantley, I have a way to keep his daughter safe. Brantley told me all about Niall Eaton.
Let’s just say I think my father is a monster. I think Niall is a close second.
He not only steals from people to make himself richer. He’s into some deep shit.
Money laundering, fraud, selling young girls to make extra profit. Selling his own daughter off like a piece of antique furniture that’s priceless, all to make his own pocket heavier.
Brantley found out that Callie’s future husband, who she’s never mentioned to me, is a real piece of work himself.
This Eric Carrington is a man who will never want to meet me face to face. He hurt Callie and he took advantage of his place in her world.
Callie is mine, no ifs, ands or buts about it. I’m done hiding who I am. I’m evil underneath, there’s no denying it.
The monster in me wants to come out and play, and after hearing Brantley telling me what Eric had done to my girl, I’m ready to squeeze the life from him with my bare hands.
I’ll bring him down alongside Niall; these men have pushed me too far. I’m ready to take my father’s offer, but not before I talk to Callie. Tell her the truth about me. I want her by my side as my queen, but once she knows the truth, the likelihood of her sticking around is low.
I’m a stone-cold-liar.
A heartless bastard.
Who loves a brat.
I hate who I’ve become. I’ve become the one person I vowed never to be like. My father is a ruthless man, his blood runs like the depths of fire in Hell. He’s a cold-hearted killer, pure fucking evil.
I hate what I did to Callie, to my brat. She was just trying to talk, and I used her. I grind my teeth, feeling my molars crack as I think about how I used her body to take out my anger.
I fucked her like she was one of my father’s hoes I pulled off the street who meant shit to me. Callie deserves better, and I turned her away when she tried to call me on my bullshit.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
She has every right to know why I’ve been the way I have, but my ego gets in the way and I can't think straight after pounding her pussy so hard I think my dick will leave an imprint.
I swear it has a direct line to my cock that it has a neon sign that flashes:
‘MAGIC PUSSY HERE’.
I’m totally addicted to every inch of Callie, and a part of me hates how attached to her I am, but the other part, the sane part, can't get enough and screams:
more, more, more.
I need to fix what I broke, need to mend what we have because if I’ve learnt anything about my short time with Callie, she’s a firecracker under all that pretend bullshit fakeness she hides beneath.
The one thing I know is I never grovel. Bishop Demetrius never ever fucking grovels to a woman.
I’m totally fucked, aren’t I?
Callie stirs. Her tits brush against me, and I hold back a moan.
Her eyes flutter open. Regret shines in her eyes as soon as she takes me into focus.
She shifts away from me, holding the sheet, covering herself. Like that will stop me from devouring every inch of her.
“Brat.” I reach for her, but she all but flees from the bed, leaving me hard and confused.
I watch as she paces the room, picking up her clothes and dressing as quickly as she can.
I stand and grab my jeans, shoving my legs into them, putting my dick away.
“I can’t do this.” Her voice quivers, and she gasps when I touch her arm. She shuffles back like she’s frightened of me.
“Callie.”
“Don’t.” Her hands come out, pushing my chest to back up.
“Don’t come any closer, Bishop.”
She swallo
ws and shoves her top over her head.
The realization that she knows hits me like a freight train. That’s why she stormed in here, but of course, my dick saw her and wanted a taste.
“Fuck, Callie.” I go to reach for her again, but she pulls away.
“Last night was a mistake, you lied to me.”
“Callie.” I try to reason with her, but she wraps her arms around herself.
“I don’t know who you are, except you scare me because I never thought the man I was falling in love with was a part of the Mafia.”
Her words cut me deep, knowing she’s scared of me, knowing she won’t let me touch her.
“Callie, please?” I beg her. I don't fucking beg, but here I am, begging this woman to hear me out. I’m not who she thinks.
Or am I? Fuck, even I don’t know anymore.
Callie sinks into herself in the corner of my room. Gone is the brazen woman from last night who was ready to tear me a new one.
“You don’t have to be scared, baby?” Geez what a fucking lie.
Of course she should be scared, I’m a fucking monster.
A tear slips down her cheek, and more follow, dripping to her feet.
“I thought you were different.” She swallows and wipes her cheek.
“I am.” I swear to her I am. My fingers run through my hair, tugging on the ends. This is it, I’m losing her.
“How can you say that.” Her voice breaks, leaving an everlasting hole in my heart.
“I’m not like him.” I promise her I’m nothing like my father. Fuck, even I don’t believe the bullshit spewing from my mouth right now.
She shakes her head, trying to compose herself. My eyes fill with unshed tears. My heart beats rapidly as I try to control the panic setting in.
“I can never trust you, Bishop. The world you live in, I would never fit.”
This time I rush her, caging her between my arms. My forehead rests against hers, my eyes telling her everything I can’t seem to.
Our lips are a hair’s breadth away. I desperately want to kiss her, show her what she truly means to me. I lick my lips, my eyes focusing on hers.
Just kiss her, you moron.
“Don’t ever say that, brat, you do belong. With me, as my queen.”
She lifts her hand to caress my cheek. God, her touch is perfection. The way my skin tingles under her hand... I close my eyes, memorizing the way it feels against my skin.
“We both know it would never work, Bishop.”
My hand grips her hip, feeling her one last time. I swallow the lump in my throat; the pain is too much. I almost choke on my breath.
She places a soft kiss on my cheek, and the idiot in me lets her pass. I stand, frozen, as she walks past me, out the door and out of my life.
I just lost the one thing that was holding me together.
Why the fuck did I let her go?
***
For the first few days I slowly drink myself to death. The look on Callie’s face haunts me. The pain I caused her will be something I’ll always carry.
After she walked out, the monster in me was here to stay. I know getting her back will take time.
Much to my dismay.
The sick twisted thoughts I have every day about killing everyone who ever hurt her, including myself, never seem to be enough. Callie is gone, torturing myself isn't going to get her back.
The monster needs to come out and play.
I have a lot to make up for, but first I have to bring home my piccolina.
It’s time for the world to see the real Bishop Demetrius.
1 month later
As I stare into the eyes of the man I’m about to destroy, nothing feels more satisfying than pulling Niall Eaton apart limb from limb.
He hasn’t moved a muscle since Jacob and I entered his office.
Pulling out the chair in front of his desk, I take off my jacket and set it on the back, roll my sleeves to my forearms, make myself comfy, and place my feet on his desk.
Not a fucking word. Not so tough now that I'm in front of him.
We have searched high and fucking low for Callie, turning up empty-handed every single time. I know he’s hiding her.
He looks over my shoulder at Jacob who has his gun positioned in front of him. I know he’s itching to use it; firearms are like crack to Jacob.
He has this surge of power when he uses them. He’s like the devil on my shoulder pushing me, urging me to let that side of me out. Only thing is, I’m more than happy to let the monster out to play.
Niall swallows, his eyes back on me. Sweat drips down his forehead. If I were to guess, the man’s two steps away from pissing his pants.
Guess he never expected me to make a house call.
Since Callie walked out, I’ve been a shell of a man. Yeah, it’s been a month since taking my father’s position and becoming the boss. It’s been a month of pure fucking hell.
I may have let her walk away, but I expected her to take a few days and then come back.
Heck, I went to her apartment numerous times like a love-sick fool, trying to get her to come back to me. Turns out she had never been back except to pack a bag. I know Niall is up to no good. It’s closing in on his little deal with Carrington, and I will lose my ever-loving shit if he forces Callie to marry that piece of scum.
I twist the ring on my thumb, clearing my throat. I come with a deal, one I know the good old Mr. Eaton won’t refuse. Not that he has a choice.
“I have a problem.” My voice tells him I’m not fucking around, and nor will I take no for an answer.
“W-what is that.”
Pathetic.
“See. I was promised this girl.”
He swallows, knowing I’m not walking out of here without the answer I came for.
I stand, leaning over his desk. I pick up a small trophy that sits in front of me. I don't bother reading what it’s for because I know it’s all a bunch of lies.
I toss it in the air and then place it down in front of him, but not before he jumps so high he nearly falls from his chair.
“You know who I am, right?” I lean down close to his ear to whisper.
He nods frantically.
“Who am I, Mr. Eaton?”
“B-ishop D-D-emetris.”
I frown down at the sad excuse for a man, wanting to smash his skull in with that stupid trophy.
I smirk, able to love the fact he’s now scared of me.
I’ll admit I hated the thought of becoming my father, but I’ve claimed the role with more ease than I thought.
“I want her.” I give him no more, letting the understanding sink in.
“I can’t.” He swallows, and his breathing accelerates.
I sigh, moving back to take my seat again.
I tsk, shaking my head as I once again place my feet on his desk.
“You see, Mr. Eaton, I don’t care what promises you made with that dead man Carrington, because your daughter is mine.
She will be mine.”
“Mr. Demetrius.”
“Sir,” Jacob barks from behind me.
I feel him move but raise my hand to stop him.
“Giu, giacobbe- down, Jacob.”
Jacob wants to tear Niall to shreds. If I let him, he’ll do it with his bare hands.
“Sir.” Niall wipes his brow with a handkerchief and takes a sip of the water he has sitting beside him.
“I don’t know where my daughter is.”
I sigh. Disappointed and frustrated.
I lick my lips, leaving an indent behind as I bite down.
“Lucky for you I do.” The lie rolls so easily off my tongue, his surprised look tells me everything I need to know.
The man is a liar. He knows exactly where his daughter is. He can call my bluff, but right now, all I care about is finding her and bringing her home.
“You see, Niall, I know you’re a cheater and a poor excuse for a fucking man, but a coward, well, I never pegged you for one of those.”
/>
I stand, knocking everything off his desk as he pushes back in shock.
“Tell me where she is?”