Page 44 of Branded By Bishop

"What are you doing, songbird?" he asks, an amused smile on his face when I plant my palms on his chest and gently push him toward the bed. He's too big for me to move, but he humors me, walking backward until his knees hit the edge of the bedframe and he falls, landing sprawled across the bed with his towel askew. He stares up at me with humor in his gaze, his mouth soft.

"Making a dream come true."

"I'm your dream?"

"Always," I breathe, climbing on top of him.

His hands settle on my hips when I straddle him, groaning when I feel his erection nestle against me. He's always so hard and desperate for me. All I have to do is touch him, and he's ready. I love that so much.

I lift up enough to undo the knot in his towel, letting it fall open, and then lean down to lick a bead of water from his chest. He growls, his hands clamping tighter on my hips.

"You know what today is?"

"Sunday."

"Mmhmm. What else?" I lick another bead, flicking my tongue against his flat nipple.

"Fuck," he growls, his hips bucking. "Today is three years since I asked you to marry me."

"Yeah," I whisper, meeting his gaze. "You know what that means?"

He stares at me for a moment, like he doesn't know what I'm getting at here. And then recognition flares in his gaze. He goes completely still, not even breathing. "Callie, are you…?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying, Cowboy," I murmur, grinning at him. "You said I had to wait three years for you to put a baby in me. It's been exactly three years."

"Fuck." He thrusts his hips, bucking me off. But I don't land. Before I can, he's got his hands on me, flattening me to the bed beneath him. I love the way he presses me down, every inch of his body seamed to mine. His wild eyes meet mine, his nostrils flaring. "Don't tease me, songbird," he rasps. "You know I'm a desperate, greedy cowboy."

"Bishop?" I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, pulling him down to me. "Who said I was teasing?" I breathe in his ear. "I stopped taking my birth control two weeks ago."

He snaps exactly like I knew he would, making my favorite sound. In seconds, my nightshirt is in tatters, ripping right down the middle. My panties don't fare any better beneath his hands. He's too worked up, too greedy. God, he's perfect.

"Bishop!" I shout, arching into him when his thumb finds my clit, rubbing in a firm circle.

"Jesus, baby. You're soaked. You need my mouth on you." It's not a question. He prowls down my body, spreading me wide. I whimper, grabbing handfuls of the comforter when he blows across my clit. "Still my favorite fucking color," he groans.

I intended to drive him wild tonight. Instead, he drives me out of my mind, licking and sucking until I'm right on the edge, begging to go over. He doesn't let me.

Instead, he crawls up my body again, lifting me until I'm straddling him again. "Ride me, songbird," he groans, staring up at me. "Help me fuck my baby into you."

"Oh, God." My thighs shake as I sink down on him, so desperate, I think I might break right now. But he doesn't let me. He keeps me on the edge, lifting me up and down his cock until I'm breathless and dizzy, digging my nails into his chest just to hang on.

"Please," I groan when I can't take it anymore. I need to come. "Please, Bishop."

"Please what?"

"Make me come!" I cry.

He flips me onto my back, coming down over me. I shout as he slams himself inside me, so deep I can't breathe. "Is this what you need, songbird? You need me to fuck my baby into you like this?"

I sob his name, unable to form words as he wreaks me, fucking me so hard I can't think. All I can do is take every perfect thrust, again and again and again.

"Now, Callie," he groans. "Come on my cock now."

I shout his name, splintering in an instant.

He follows me over with a roar, planted so deep I feel him in my soul again, claiming every piece of it like they don't already belong to him. They do, though. They always have.

When he ca move again, he rolls us so I'm sprawled across his chest, both of us panting for breath.

"I love you," he whispers, his hands gentle on my body.

"Love you," I whisper back.

"You really ready for my babies, songbird?"

I lift my head, meeting his gaze. Am I ready? That's not even a question, not really. I'm ready for anything this man wants to give me, any time, any day.

"Always," I whisper.