Bishop (Cerberus MC #27) Read Online Marie James

Categories Genre: Biker, MC Tags Authors: Series: Cerberus MC Series by Marie James
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
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“I’m—it’s been a while, and I’ve only even been with one guy before.”

Top ten things not to tell a man if you want him to last, for five hundred, Alex.

Unable to control myself, I flex forward just a little more, licking into her mouth when she moans. It’s utter perfection—the heat, the slickness, the fucking grip when she flexes those tiny muscles.

“I have to fucking move,” I warn, pulling my hips back, starting with the last two words of my declaration.

Her eyes roll, but then widen when I reposition and press forward at a different angle.

Her fingers curves, her nails digging into me in a way that makes me feel like a feral fucking animal. I want to rut into her, lock my teeth into the meat of her shoulder to hold her in place, while I fuck her into the hardwood flooring.

Placing a hand behind her head, the only comfort I’m capable of providing right now, I drive back into her. Over and over I take this woman, letting my cock nearly pull free before pressing forward again. I’m not fucking her fast, but I am taking her with barely restrained power.

“Brent,” she moans, my name on her lips making me speed up.

There’s no other way to describe it other than I’m railing this woman, using her body as she willingly gives it to me.

My nuts pull tight, threatening to put an end to this. It’s my own selflessness that causes me to slow down.

“Don’t,” she whimpers, her own need a plea on her kiss-swollen lips.

I lock my mouth to hers, but we’re really just sharing air rather than actually kissing.

I’m mindless, desperate for release, when I feel the first unintentional pulse of her core around my cock.

If I thought I ever had control over any part of this, that clutch deep inside of her proves me wrong.

She pulls her mouth away, her head thrown back as she comes, and I have no other recourse but to follow her over the edge.

When it ends, I’d wager that I’m more tired than I was that first time I tried climbing out of the bed after waking up. I lean to the side after pulling from her body and fall to the floor at her side.

I cover my chest with my hand, the pounding of my chest making me feel more alive than I can ever recall feeling before.

Sweat dots my skin, making particles on the floor stick to it, but I don’t have the strength or the wherewithal to worry about it right now.

I roll my head in her direction, finding her staring up at the ceiling, her chest moving up and down just as rapidly as mine, her breasts still uncovered.

My mouth waters once again, making me realize I didn’t fucking get enough.

I roll some in her direction, with every intention of wrapping my lips right back around one of those perfect peaks, but she shifts away some before I can manage it.

“Come here,” I say instead, reaching for her, and pulling her to my chest.

I refuse to let her get lost in her head. I’ll be damned if she’s going to get up and run off after what happened just now.

I don’t say a word as I start tracing a finger down her spine.

I don’t mention what we did nor do I acknowledge the tears I feel pooling on my chest.

This very moment takes me back to that night in Bahrain. There’s just something about watching the woman you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with push you away that makes you sober up very quickly.

I shove that memory away, more concerned with my present situation than the realization that the memory extends further than it has since I woke up from the coma.

Sunshine is pulling away before the sweat can dry on our skin like Rivet did, but that doesn’t mean this situation won’t end the same way.

I’m wondering why I’m comparing the two, and considering just how much this woman in my arms is getting under my skin, when the doorbell rings.

Whatever bubble we’ve been in has effectively been popped.

Chapter 31

Sunshine

Of course the second I’m considering the possibility of staying just like this for the rest of the evening, we get interrupted.

My scrub top is still shoved up over my breasts, my bra unclasped, but I’m willing to lie here on the gritty floor and ignore whatever person is coming to visit him.

I move when he does, shifting me off his chest to reach down and pull his sweats back up.

Embarrassment and possibly a little regret heats my cheeks as I shuffle around, gathering up my scrub bottoms and my shoes before scurrying from the room. He’s making it very clear that he isn’t interested in ignoring whoever is at the door. I might possibly die if Rivet just happens to be the one knocking for the second time.


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