“No, Kitty. You won’t move unless instructed to and you won’t fucking speak unless I ask you to.” Bishop had always been dominant in bed, but something about his rough tone had me thinking this had to do with a lot of other reasons; not just his overbearing alpha male, domineering attitude. He clenched my throat. “Do we understand each other?”
I nodded, but my eyes were still closed and I continued grinding myself into his fingers. “Yes.” Then he let go, pushing me out of the way. All the tightened pleasure I was feeling, snatched from me instantly. It was as though his touch was a distant memory, and like a fool, I instantly missed it.
“Good. Get changed, we’re taking Daemon to the airport.”
“Err...” I went to answer, but he was already getting out of the shower. I grabbed the soap and scrubbed up super fast, and angrily, considering he had worked me up that much only to leave me hanging. I had a feeling this had a lot to do with my punishment. And If I knew Bishop, which I did, this had only just begun and it was only going to get worse, but the joke will also be on him because he’s not getting any sex either.
Unless he does…
I hit the faucet off and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around myself. Walking out to the bedroom, I headed straight into his closet and rummaged through what clothes I still had here—or Tatum’s clothes. Pulling out some cut-offs and a loose off-white shirt, I threw it on and slipped on my Vans before letting my hair back down my back.
I hit the bottom of the stairs and stilled when I saw Khales was on the sofa eating granola.
“Seriously,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. Stomping into the kitchen, having about enough of her presence, I stopped when I saw Bishop. “Why is she still here?”
He barged past me, walking to the front door. I followed, flipping the slut off on my way. Bishop let me through the door. “She stayed in the house.”
Wait, what?
“Why?”
Bishop’s jaw ticked as we rounded his Maserati. “Because she doesn’t have anywhere else to go, and because of my fucking dad.” Pulling open the passenger door, I slid in and clipped my belt on. Great, so Hector was keeping her around for some reason.
“I need food.”
He fired the car up and pulled out. “After we drop Daemon off at the airport.”
“Airport?” I asked, an eyebrow perched. “Why is my brother going to an airport?”
“Why do you still ask so many questions?” He retorted.
“Why do you still keep secrets?” I snapped back.
He grinned, seemingly pleased with my wit, then he sobered. “There’s something I’m going to tell you, but it cannot be known that you know about this place yet.” He dropped it into third, looking at me and then looking back to the road. “Am I clear?”
“I get it,” I deadpanned. I was used to secrets now, and regardless of the poor decisions I had made where Bishop and I were concerned, I had never spilled one of the many golden secrets I knew from this world.
“Daemon is from an island called Perdita, it’s Latin for—”
“—lost,” I interrupted, remembering that word from one of the many translation games I played with my phone.
His head dipped, as he turned down my street. For once, I was annoyed about how close we lived to one another. Obviously, Bishop was in the sharing mood, and that was something so rare, so unheard of, that I wanted to take it for complete granted.
He stopped at the entry to our high wired gates, waiting for them to open.
“This island is on the outskirts of the Bermuda Triangle, but remains completely off the radar, because of my dad.”
“Your dad?” I questioned, and then internally smacked myself. That wasn’t important right now. The gates opened and I turned to face him, needing more answers. “Tell me more before Daemon gets in.”
“This island is run by The Lost Boys but owned and orchestrated by Katsia. This island, Madison”—his eyes collided with mine as we came to a stop outside the front door— “is where things you can’t even comprehend happen. This is the crux of The Elite Kings.”
“Wait!” I paused, trying to gather my thoughts. I was so confused but excited by how he was being open with me. “I thought the cave was on your property? The cave in the book?”
“Oh, that cave is.” His eyes hardened. “But after the war, they all moved to Perdita which was where our families settled until they took back what was theirs, here, in New York and The Hamptons.”
My mouth hung open, still in shock, then the front door opened and Daemon came walking down. He wore worn jeans, a white polo shirt, and a red bowtie. An interesting combination, but it was Daemon. He closed the back door and I turned to face him. “Bishop sort of filled me in, sort of didn’t, but, are you sure you want to do this?”
He tilted his head, his eyes going to my mouth and then coming back to my eyes. Fucking language barrier. I pulled out my phone and typed up google translate—untrusty fucker that it was—but it would at least give me something.
Bishop rolled his eyes and floored it out of our driveway, my head slamming into the seat. “Vos certus vos volo facere?”
My tummy tightened and my legs clenched together. It was my secret that Bishop speaking Latin was a major turn-on—goddayum.
Daemon nodded and shot me a tight smile. Daemon always smiled in a way that—either by twin instinct or not—I knew something was below the surface, threatening to spill over. I just hoped he would let me take some of the load. “I’m sure, Soror mea.”
I went to type in that word in google translate, but Bishop did
