My chest rises and falls, my breathing heavy and needy, wanting him to dull the ache he has started, the ache that seems to be on Nitric Oxide whenever he’s around. His warm mouth blankets my folds and my back arches, my hand slamming down on my own mouth to stifle my moans. Spreading my legs wide, he licks me from my entry to my clit and then sucks on it softly before circling my nub in his mouth with slow, pressured rotations.
“Bishop,” I moan softly.
“What do you want, kitty?” he murmurs against my needy clit. “I might give it to you.”
“I... I...,” I mutter hoarsely. He presses his tongue over my clit, rubbing it vigorously until my thighs are quivering and my moans are about to scream out of my body. “I want you!” I whisper-yell. “Fuck, I want you, Bishop.”
“My what, kitty? You can’t have it all.”
Not seeing the truth in his words during my sex-drunken haze, I answer, “Your cock. I need it. I need you.”
He yanks my body and I fall into the water with a loud splash, the ice-cold lake only enhancing the sensitivity of my nipples. Wrapping his arm around waist, he props me up and surfaces me on the water. I wrap my hands around his neck, squeezing my legs around him, and slowly sink myself down on top of his thick head. His eyes roll back—fucking roll back—and my pussy clenches at the sight alone, but my finger comes up to his lips, where I run it over the plumpness roughly. He hits my hand away and shoves me against one of the rocks before trying to pull out of me. I clench around him, pulling him into myself during his outward stroke.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “So fucking tight.” His hand comes up to my throat. “But I fucking hate you.” He pumps me again. “Hate what you are.” He pulls out and then pushes in roughly, so rough my back starts to sting from the friction. He kisses me urgently, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth. “Hate who you are.” He pounds into me, raw and consistently, my back aching from the grazes, which is almost unbearable, but I’m so lost in our cage, a cage that’s entranced by Bishop’s voodoo sex magic, I don’t care. His hands come to my thighs, where he spreads me wider. “I hate you, kitty, and that’s why you will always just be another fuck for me.”
I rub myself against him. “I’m... I’m...” I wanna say a stupid bitch, but what comes out is, “...going to come!” I let go, my body shaking, my brain fuzzy, my vision blurred, and my hearing frizzled. My orgasm takes every drop of my energy and sucks it into a hole of nothingness with empty feelings.
He follows closely, his cock pulsing inside of me as I continue to milk him.
His shoulders turn slack as he leans back, searching my eyes. “I’m flattered you hate me that much.” I roll my eyes and push away from him. He lets me go, and I try to hide my disappointment. Do I want him to chase me? Possibly. I have too much pride to accept him just letting me walk away, but I also know this is Bishop. It’s obvious just how unattainable he is, and him gracing me with his presence is what I should be happy with. I scoff inwardly. Fuck that.
“Hey.” His hand catches mine just as I get out of the lake and back onto the rock. I look at him over my shoulder, and he stills. His eyes settle on my back. “Shit.”
I look over my shoulder. “Those will heal.” I shrug, stepping off the rock and walking away from him, opting for the short trek back through the tree line of the lake to get back to the girls instead of swimming back. “My feelings, on the other hand...,” I whisper angrily under my breath. My feelings shouldn’t even be in the equation. I know this, but he doesn’t. He’s made it crystal clear he doesn’t want more, so I should just walk away now before I get hurt—or break.
“Madison!” he yells, jogging up to me. I ignore him, carrying on my walk. Am I being ridiculous? Yes. Do I care? No.
“Hey!” He tugs on my hand, spinning me around to face him. “What’s wrong?” His eyebrows draw in. He looks genuinely confused.
I shake my head. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Then I turn around again and start walking back toward the girls.
He tugs on my hand again, only this time I fall against his chest. He looks down at me, making me feel small with a simple glare. “What. The. Fuck. Is your problem, kitty?”
I exhale. “It’s nothing. I guess I always knew you hated me, but I didn’t know the severity of it.”
He tilts his head. “So why are you sulking, then?”
I push at his chest, but his hand comes up and catches my wrist. “Stop the fucking bullshit, kitty. Tell me what’s wrong!”
“Why do you hate me so much?” I blurt out. “Why? Why did you say you hate what I am and who I am—as if you’ve known me forever?”
His jaw tics, but his grip doesn’t loosen. “Maybe I fucking have. Ever thought about that?”
I pause, slamming my mouth shut. “What do you mean?” I ask after a moment.
He pushes me this time. “Maybe I’ve known who you are for some time.” He starts walking back toward the mouth of the lake.
I run up to him, falling into step behind him. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means you should just stay away.”
“No.”
“What?” He spins around to face me. “What do you mean no?”
“I won’t stay away from you just because you said so!” I retort. “Tell me!”
He steps up to me, his eyes cold, his jaw stone, and his lip slightly curled. “You don’t know anything.”
“So fucking tell me!” I shout at him, searching his eyes and ignoring the shiver of
