Chapter Seven

Allegra

When I wake up it’s to the sound of my own moans. Pleasure is already coursing through my veins, and I haven’t even opened my eyes yet.

My thighs are spread wide while a tongue dances across my sex, sending erotic shivers running through my body.

“Bishop,” I say on a hoarse whisper when my orgasm hits.

He licks me through the aftershocks, prolonging the intense pleasure. After long minutes, he rises from between my thighs to stare down at me.

“Please tell me you’re not too sore,” he says.

“I can’t feel anything right now,” I reply with a giggle. “My legs are jelly.”

A cocky smile crosses his features.

“Tell me if I hurt you,” he says, slowly stroking into me, his cock filling me perfectly.

“Oh God.” The words fall from my lips on a moan, his cock reaching nerve endings I didn’t even know I had. “Harder.”

“Babe…”

“You promised me one night, Bishop. You’re supposed to make this unforgettable but instead, you’re holding back.” I caress his cheek, waiting for him to look at me.

“I already hurt you.”

“Yes, the hard part is over,” I say in response. “Or did popping my cherry turn you off?”

A moment later, I find myself on my hands and knees, screaming as Bishop fucks me from behind. His cock reaches deeper places in this position, allowing me to feel things I have never felt before. The pleasure is intense and overwhelming and exactly what I wanted.

His strokes are slow, deep, and measured as he speaks. “I’ll remember this night for the rest of my fucking life.” Bishop whispers the words in my ear. “Your tight pussy wrapped around my cock, the way your virgin blood coated my erection, your every moan and scream when I hit just the right spot. There isn’t a single fucking thing that could ever make me not want you. I would live in this perfect pussy if you let me.”

His words are filthy and perfect. I didn’t know that I needed the reassurance, but hearing him say these things has my heart constricting in my chest.

“If you keep fucking me like this, you’re welcome to use me for a booty call whenever you feel like it.” My words end on a shameless moan. “Your cock is perfect, and your filthy mouth just makes it better.”

“Oh babe,” he says with a chuckle. “You have no idea how dirty I can be. The things I’ve thought about doing to you and this pussy should be illegal.”

I moan and my pussy clamps down on his cock.

“But I’m not going to tell you any of that. I am going to show you,” he explains. “Before you walk out of this room tomorrow morning, I will fuck you on every surface, in every way imaginable. I will fuck you until your voice is hoarse from screaming my name over and over.”

“Yes please,” I beg, my voice a low whisper.

“Good girl,” he praises, before spanking my ass, setting off my orgasm.

****

I lie in bed as Bishop saunters to the suite door in nothing with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. I watch the tattoo on his back flex and move with every step he takes. I hear him speak to someone before closing the door again. Soon after, he wheels in a tray, and I can’t fight my smile.

“What did you do?”

“After you passed out again, thanks for that by the way it’s good for my ego, I ordered some food. You’re going to need your energy,” he says with a smirk.

I laugh as he winks at me. He’s a cocky motherfucker, but it suits him.

“What did you get?”

“Well, seeing as we don’t really know each other, I didn’t know what you like or if you’re allergic to anything, I got some of everything.”

“I’m a vegetarian.”

The look of disgust that crosses his feature has me rolling with laughter. You’d think I told him I drink the blood of goats or something.

“I’m not allergic to anything except cats and penicillin,” I say when I stop laughing. “And I’m not picky about food. But I don’t eat pickles.”

He sets the tray beside the table in the corner before unloading items. The smell of bacon hits me, and I slip from the bed. On the floor is the plain black t-shirt he was wearing earlier, and I slip it over my head to cover my nudity. I don’t care if he sees me, but I really am hungry and I want to eat first.

I grab the plate with the burger and pull it over to my side of the table while he takes a seat. He fills a glass with orange juice before sliding it over to me while I devour what is probably the best burger I’ve ever eaten.

“Remember to breath in between,” he jokes, and I give him the finger.

“What else did you get?” I ask after swallowing.

“Some chicken strips, onion rings, and a slice of chocolate cake.”

We move to the couch where eat in silence, sharing the piece of cake. The meal is delicious, and the fact that I can sit with someone in companionable silence is perfect. I don’t feel the need to fill the moment with idle chatter or anything like that.

“I hate that everyone feels the need to shove Christmas down our throats,” Bishop says, glaring at the little tree in the corner.

I can’t help but laugh at his facial expression. “Sorry,” I say when he gives me a dirty look. “I always thought I was bad about Christmas, but you’re definitely worse than me.”

“Whatever,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“My stepfather was a piece of work,” I say by way of explanation. “My mom married him when I was four and she died when I was eight. They were in a car accident on Christmas Eve. He was drunk. He was always drunk. After the accident, he always tried to celebrate the holiday, but I never got over it. It didn’t help matters that he was touchy.”

“He hurt you?” Bishop asks angrily.

“Not really. It was just little touches here and there,” I say. “I ran away before it could become anything more and the traffickers found me.”

“Fuck. You’ve had a rough go of it,” he says, sadness tinting his words.

“Other people have had it worse. I got lucky. The Cammareri’s found us, me and nine other girls, before we were taken out of the country. It could have been much worse.”

“And now you work for them to repay the debt?”

“Not at all. They wanted to take me home. When they found out about my stepfather, they took care of him, put me through high school, gave me a new home, and a job.” I sigh loudly. “They want me to be part of their family, but I don’t belong.”