The Silver Swan (The Elite King's Club 1)

Tatum – Are you okay?

Me – I’m fine. How are you?

Tatum – Bored. Why couldn’t I come?

Me – ‘Cause you weren’t banging Nate while it happened.

Tatum – No way!

Me – Yes way.

Tatum – Tell me more, and where are you?

Me – No! Ew. And I can’t tell you, sorry.

Tatum – Well you’re no fun.

Me – I won’t argue with that.

Tatum – Can I ask you a question?

Me – Always.

Tatum – Do you think you’re falling in love with Bishop?

What? I read over her message again, my eyebrows drawing together. Why would she want to know that? Bishop and I are not even in a solid enough relationship to start talking about love—that, I am sure of. Before I can reply to her spastic message, my bedroom door swings open and Bishop walks in.

“Oh,” he mutters. “You’re awake.”

“Disappointed?” I ask, locking my phone, thus shutting out any light. The bed dips on his side, and I hear his shoes drop to the ground and a shirt fall before a belt buckle clangs, and then the bed sinks again.

“Why would I be disappointed?” he grumbles, his voice right near my ear and sending vibrations through my bloodstream. I close my eyes and count to ten. I must contain myself with this man or he will ruin me. His hand wraps around my left cheek. “Madison.”

“I’m confused,” I blurt urgently. He pauses, his hand moving. Must be the dark that has my confidence shining rather brightly. No doubt I’ll get my ass burned. “I’m confused, because one minute you hate me, and then the next you’re touching me. I’m confused about this whole”—I flick my fingers through the air, even though I’m well aware he can’t see me—“thing.”

“I don’t hate you.” He breaks through. My heart swells in my chest at his words.

“What?”

He brings one leg between mine and sinks on top of me, his elbows resting on either side of my head. Running the tip of his nose down the bridge of mine, his lips gently stroke over mine. “I. Don’t. Hate. You,” he whisper-yells each word, laying little kisses on my lips, and then suddenly his tongue slips out and drags over my bottom lip. “I just really need you to spread those legs for me and let me get lost in you for a few hours.” The cushion of his thumb caresses little circles over the side of my jugular.

“Okay,” I whisper through my parched throat.

He chuckles, his hips grinding into me so his erection presses against my leg. “That wasn’t a question, baby. Now, open up.” Then his head disappears under the blanket, and I’m getting a taste of ecstasy-spiked heaven.

WHEN I OPEN MY EYES, the first thing I notice is how numb my thighs and legs are, and then the next thing I notice is the bright sun glaring into our room through the… open fucking blinds!

“No!” I moan, covering my eyes with my arm. “Shut them.”

“Get up, baby. Come have breakfast.”

“I don’t wanna.”

Bishop grabs my arm gently and tugs it down, away from my face. “Come on.”

I peek my eyes open when I notice he’s blocking the sun with his massive body. And he’s clutching a loose white towel around his waist with droplets of water cascading down the ripple of his V before dipping under his—

“Madi!” he snaps.

“Hmm?” I look up at him innocently.

“Looking at me like that will get you fucked. Hard. And judging by the bruises on your neck, wrists, and…” He peeks under the blanket. “…thighs, I’m going to go with you don’t really want that right now.”

I shake my head. As much as I love sex with Bishop—love—I’m nowhere near ready for another round. The man is rough, no, lethal in the sack. The first time he left bruises on me, I thought it would bother him when it was over. You know, seeing how much he hurt me when he was so lost in his lust, but nope. He merely laughed it off like it was the most normal thing in the world, so now I just go with it and hope that one day, I won’t be on the news with the headline: Madison Montgomery, death by penetration.

It’d be just my luck.

“So get up.” Then he walks to his gym bag and pulls out some loose jeans and a plain white tee. Dropping his towel, he grins at me when my eyes go straight to his thick cock. Thick, hard cock. Grasping it, he slowly pumps himself, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth. Oh, God. “Like what you see, baby?” A little bead of precum wets around his head.

I nod slowly, rubbing my thighs together in an attempt to stop the sudden ache that has started. He sees the movement under the blanket and his eyebrows tug in. “Pull the blanket off.”