The pleasure seemed to go on and on because just as I would get close to coming, Bishop would pull away, letting the high build over and over again to where I thought I would eventually pass out. Finally, when he felt I’d had enough, he let me come. Never had I let a man take over or let myself be controlled. Never. But how glad I was to let him do what he truly did best.
Just as the last aftershocks of the orgasm flowed through me, Bishop rose between my legs. He then thrust hard inside me, stretching and filling me. “Jesus, you feel amazing,” he muttered as he set up a punishing rhythm. I wrapped my legs around his back, drawing him deeper inside me. My hips rose and fell with his thrusts. I was just about to come again when he stopped.
“What are you—” I started to ask, but Bishop silenced me by kissing me. His tongue darted into my mouth, and I tasted myself on him. Slowly, he pulled his hips back to thrust deeply back into me. “Jesus,” I murmured. While the hard and fast fucking had been amazing, this was even better. I could feel every delicious inch of him as he worked in and out of me. But more than that, it was the way his mouth and tongue mirrored the actions of his hips and his dick. Although I didn’t want to think about it, what we were doing now was more like making love than fucking or having sex. The fact that we were outside in a blanket of grass and under the stars made it all the more romantic.
He pulled away from kissing me to stare into my eyes. I couldn’t remember a time I had felt more connected with a lover. It was so intense that I finally had to close my eyes and bury my face in the crook of his neck. Anything to not focus on the feelings ricocheting through me.
Bishop’s breath warmed against my ear. “Open your eyes, Sam.” When I dared to look at him, he smiled. “I want to be looking in your eyes when you come.”
“Did you really just say that?” I demanded before I could stop myself.
Bishop’s movement within me stilled. “It wasn’t some sort of line. I really meant it.”
“I know you meant it, and that’s the problem.”
He dipped his head to nip my bottom lip with his teeth. “Woman, you’re not making any sense.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” I whispered.
Bishop’s expression told me he understood exactly what I meant. “Stop overanalyzing it and just feel.”
“Okay.”
Without another word, Bishop started thrusting slowly inside me again. I kept my eyes on his. I even kept them open when he dipped his hand between us to stroke my clit to make me come. As my walls clenched around him, I still kept my eyes on his. I didn’t know when I had ever felt something more, physically and emotionally.
A few more thrusts had Bishop groaning and coming inside me. He broke eye contact only when his head came down to kiss me. When he was finished, he eased out of me, took off the condom, and tossed it aside. Although there was so much I wanted to say and to ask him, there were no words between us. I just let the feelings of contentment and extreme satisfaction wash over me.
Instead, I allowed Bishop to roll me onto my side in the grass. I couldn’t hide my surprise when he spooned up beside me. I had never imagined him being one for after-sex cuddling. He seemed way more like the wham-bam kinda guy. It was just another one of the many contradictions of his character. “Knew it would be incredible with you,” Bishop whispered, which caused my heart to swell in my chest.
Lying there in the grass, I felt so safe and protected with his arms wrapped around me and our legs tangled together. I closed my eyes, a contented sigh escaping my lips as I let myself fall asleep beside the man who had started off as my enemy.
Sunlight streaked across my face, waking me from a deep sleep. As I started to stretch, I realized I wasn’t alone. A man’s arm was draped over me with his hand cupping my breast. It hit me like a ton of bricks that I wasn’t in the warmth and safety of my bedroom at home. Instead, I was naked and waking in a bed of overgrown grass. I had slept with Bishop. Actually, I had slept with him twice if I was counting. The delicious soreness between my legs reminded me how good it had been with my well-endowed partner. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had such a memorable sexual experience, least of all with a guy whose dick was big enough to leave a reminder the day after.
Glancing over my shoulder, I eyed Bishop, who was still dead to the world. A smile teased my lips at the sight of him. He appeared almost baby-faced with a shock of hair falling across his forehead. I had to fight the urge to reach out and curl it around my finger. His broad chest rose and fell with his labored breaths. In the daylight, I got a better look at all his tattoos. Normally, I didn’t find them too attractive on men, but there was something about the way they looked on Bishop that made all the difference.
My aching muscles moaned in agony as I pulled myself to a sitting position. Sleeping on the ground, coupled with an intense fuck-fest, had left me feeling physically as if I had been run over by an eighteen-wheeler. Emotionally, I felt almost as beaten up. While I didn’t regret sleeping with Bishop, I felt overwhelmed with emotional turmoil. The more time I spent with Bishop and the Raiders, the less I could paint them as the villains I once thought them to be. There had to be something I was missing—something that made them worthy of being a target of the bureau.
Lying back down, I brought my hand to Bishop’s face. I ran my thumb over his full bottom lip. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”
At my touch, Bishop began to stir. His eyelids fluttered, and then he stared up at me. His bright blue eyes widened in disbelief as they moved from me to the clearing and then back to me. “Oh fuck,” he muttered, and then rolled away from me.