Swamp Kings 1 (Bayou Bishops #18)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“Don’t hide,” he ordered when Lyric turned to undress in his bathroom on shaking legs. God, if he liked her bold, she was in for a very low grade. Assuming he was grading. Pretty sure he graded all things at all times.

She turned to face him, her bones having an earthquake. He sat on the three-foot-wide vanity built into the wall with mirrors left right and center. His glowing white muscles filled with scrolling tattoos against the black onyx made him look terrifyingly wicked and lethal. She resumed unbuttoning her black satin blouse, prepared to die of embarrassment. She had serious breast complexes due to the locker room trauma she’d endured in junior high. They called her puffy tacos because her boobs were more elongated than they were round, and the areolas were puffy instead of flat. She’d grown more mound since, but they never lost the elongated shape. She’d managed to forget all about it ‘til the marriage assignment with George. Even then she was able to think of her body as a tool for science and looks didn’t matter so long as the parts worked. But having George refer to her nipples as very different, well, nightmare resurrected . And obviously they weren’t a good kind of different since he never seemed to want to touch them.

“Come here,” he ordered quietly when the final button was undone.

The hard edge in his tone spoke to her supper and it suddenly wanted someplace else to be besides her stomach. Standing before him, he took hold of the satin material and moved it aside. She wore a black lace bra which was only a thin shield, but she desperately wanted to keep it even as he traced his fingers along the edge of it.

“What do you fear, my Doo-nie?” he asked, her chest heaving.

She couldn’t lie but wasn’t about to say that truth. “I’m… not very good at exposing myself.” One thousand percent truth.

He helped remove the blouse then set it on the counter as she put her hands before her, trying to give her boobs a rounder appearance.

“Take it off.”

Oh God.

She reached behind her and undid the clasp, then slowly removed it. There was no stopping her forearms from becoming a shield. She closed her eyes unable to bear seeing him look.

He took the bra from her, and she could only guess he set it with her blouse .

“Tell me why you are hiding yourself from me.”

Even with his curious, gentle tone she had to push down her rising panic. She really wanted this with him and didn’t want to blow it. She hated that everything felt like an audition at the academy. It was that way since she got there. She already felt like a fraud since her gifts were invisible to her. She couldn’t see or hear or feel them. What if they realized she wasn’t gifted enough? “I uh…”

He placed gentle hands on her shoulders and eased her closer to him. “What could my beautiful Doo-nie possibly fear?” he whispered, turning her heart into a war machine in her chest.

“It’s… childish… nothings.”

His finger slid along her chin and pushed her face up. “All your fears… belong to me now.” His thumb glided along her jaw, sending a shiver through her. “Do you know what I do with your fears, Doo-nie?”

She forced a headshake, and the bounce of her curls made her feel more childish.

“I crush them of course. Unless I determine they serve a good purpose.”

The sudden need to bury her face in his body had her shaking.

“I do pray you’ve never had your body worshipped. ”

The term and unusual confession brought her gaze up as his fingers traced over her arms where they covered her breasts. “What… do you mean?”

“It means I intend to adore every inch of your perfect body with every fiber of my being. And the thought of another man tasting what is now mine, feeds my insanity.”

Oh God, how sweet. “I’m not… perfect,” she managed to force from her throat, praying her gifts were working for her and not against her. “I’m sure George had something to say about that in the dissolution paperwork.”

His touch stopped and panic flooded in when his hard gaze locked on hers.

“What did George say to you?”

The sudden cold edge to his tone brought visions of a maimed George across the screen of her mind. “George is… he’s very inexperienced.”

He pulled back, staring at her, stroking along her shoulders. “What. Did George. Say to you. This is no longer a question.”

“He just… I’m blowing it out of proportion.”

“Lyric.”

“That my boobs were very unique, which could mean a million amazing things.”

He took soft hold of her face now, staring at her mouth. “Yet you’re sure they meant the opposite. Why? ”

She wanted to remove his hands, but she needed hers to hide the problem they were discussing.

“I will not force you to show me your breasts,” he announced with a matter-of-fact edge that didn’t help.

“That… technically wasn’t a threat but it kind of feels like one.”

“Do you want me to force you?”

She covered herself even more, eyeing him, seriously considering the option. “Would be like ripping off a band-aid,” she reasoned quietly. “Present the two ugly stepchildren you’re getting stuck with and be done with it.”

He suddenly threw his head back with a big, booming laugh that startled her. She’d never heard him do that. Or seen it. And didn’t have a clue how exactly to feel about it. A myriad of reactions presented themselves, none of them sticking.

He finally stopped and pulled her mouth to his, kissing her with a hunger. “My Doo-nie, I won’t force such a thing. Unless you tell me to.”

“Tell you to what?”

“To force you.”

She eyed him, back to fighting panic.

“My God ,” he suddenly laughed. “I’m going to find a way to kill George and get away with it,” he assured .

“You’re not helping!” she cried. “And the more of a big deal you make the harder this is getting!”

He put both hands on his chest with astonished chuckles. “Me?”

“I mean… making such a big deal to see them.”

He slowly angled a look at her as if considering something. “No,” he said with a hard finality. “I have many obsessive plans with your breasts. They are my prized possessions now.”

“You haven’t even seen them!” she quietly pled. “You need to leave room for… less than.”

He stood and lifted her then sat her on the vanity. “I will wait until you’re ready.” He crossed his arms and closed his eyes. “Tell me when.”

“That’s worse !” she gasped.

“It’s the very extent of my mercy,” he said. “But I am patient. Take as long as you like.”

Her jaw dropped at that. “You’re serious?”

“So very .”

She closed her eyes and looked down at her boobs, readjusting her forearms so the exposed parts weren’t unevenly deformed. She should’ve just shown her damn boobs from jump. Now it was so much worse. Just do it and get this over with . There was a possibility he actually might like them. He had picked her for this when she considered herself so far out of his league. He may have picked her for that very reason. She was the least risk. Easy to use and discard.

For fuck’s sake, show your stupid dumb tits!

She lowered her arms and grabbed hold of the vanity ledge in a death grip. Straightening her back, she slightly arched it, tightening and lifting her boobs as best she could. Then she clenched her eyes shut, her breaths blasting from her.

“When!” she shot out.

After three painful seconds, he whispered, “Glorious mother of all fucks .” Each word was hot, hard, and filled with a lethal hunger that both terrified and electrified her. Hope peeked its head out as her pulse walloped her eardrums.

She gasped when his mouth covered her left breast with a hard, greedy suck then moved to do the same to the other. The sound of his hunger brought a hot desire that blew right through her fears, arching her back even more as she fought to give herself. His desire gained momentum, a growl in his chest as he used his teeth on the tall peaks he’d created. His fist suddenly bit in her hair as his mouth stormed hers with the same aggression, his other hand on her entire throat, the possessive hold literally melting her bones.

“Your tits are so far beyond my wildest dreams , ” he seethed right in her mouth, his tongue stabbing again. “Don’t you ever hide them again. I’m going to punish you for not knowing how perfect and nasty they are.” He gripped both breasts and squeezed so tight before devouring her nipples again. “I’m going to jack off between this heaven while you lick and suck your King’s crown. Then I’m going to cover them with every drop of my cum.”

He fought and yanked on the button of her jeans as he drowned her with a passionate kiss. God he was the perfect one. She finally escaped her denim prison, so happy that the lower half of her body passed even her own judgmental standards.

“Doo-nie,” he shuddered, staring at her matching black panties. He pulled her hips to the edge of the counter and lowered to his knees, gaze locked and loaded at her privates. His hands slowly moved along her inner thighs, the threatening pressure creating a pulse in her throat next to her growing moans.

When he finally made his move, it was like a viper. Her legs were shoved open so wide, that the muscles screamed, then his mouth struck right on her lace-covered pussy with a hunger and growl that shook her core. Oh God, he was biting and sucking her. Thank you, God, for the sense to clean and change my panties before hurrying over.

He stood then, his chest heaving as he stared right into her eyes, the gray on literal fire as he hooked his fingers in her panties and lowered them. He kissed delicately all along her face, the slow, careful pattern feeling significant in her heart before he returned to his knees, locked on her naked privates again.

The sudden rogue horror of him not liking a shaved vagina slammed into her and stole her breath.

Her legs were again shoved open but not pounced on, and the sudden hesitation nearly stopped her heart. This time he moved in slowly, his hands careful as he stroked along her petals then eased them open like she was fragile. Oh God, his tongue moved wickedly slow over every inch of her while his low growls grew stronger with each breath. A warning of the lust rage incoming.

Excitement, desperate need, fear, inhibition—what a dizzying concoction moving through her blood as she squirmed to get more contact. But his iron grip on the juncture of her thighs said be so very fucking still while I taste you for the first time.

Her gasps and moans foretold the story before his tongue ever touched her clit. And when it finally did, she couldn’t stop from calling for him. “Mr. Nidev!”

He answered with an almost painful groan as he snuck a large finger into her entrance, stroking the upper wall as he placed tender, adoring kisses right on her clit.

“ Baby ,” she crooned, bringing her hand to his head, gliding her nails and fingers over his scalp.

His breath blasted against her as he pressed his mouth fully, gently bringing her clit into his lips for a steady suction that harmonized her moans to the pleasure burning through her. He began performing Kar-geh-rah and the Mongolian chant vibrated in her clit! The sound reminded her of a monster full of eternal longing and lust, burning away his sanity.

The idea filled her with a craving to dance to it. She twirled her hips to the melody, her moans matching the call in his soul.

He placed her foot on his shoulder, and she did the same with the other, the solid platform allowing her to truly dance and twirl against his mouth now stroking and gliding over every inch. His finger inside moved with slow, firm flicks, bringing the need to pee closer as his suckles returned, more hungry, more demanding.

“I’m going to come,” she cried, not wanting to break the beautiful synchronization of their needs.

****

Nidev rose up and covered her mouth with his, fisting her curls as he showed her what he’d just experienced, how much he loved it. “Doo-nie,” he croaked, gliding his tongue along hers with silky precision, realizing so much more had just happened. In the span of five minutes, he’d opened her up with pleasure and her gifts poured out, the sound of her every moan, every breath entangling in his lust rage. And now, fucking her was off the table. Just like that. With no reason in sight.

“I will not fuck you yet,” he said.

He recognized the fear stiffening her body. “What… did I do?”

He stared down into her upturned face, stroking the silk as he contemplated the answer. “I honestly don’t know why I’ve changed my mind,” he said. “But… I have.”

“Did I… do something wrong?”

“No,” he said, sure she hadn’t. Although the answer had something to do with her. He’d ponder more later. She’d used her gifts but not intentionally, he knew. Maybe beyond her own lust she didn’t want to participate in his psychotic schemes. The idea of her truly not wanting it or fearing it was particularly arousing to him. This lust thrived on seduction, entrapment, and psychotic obsession. Her wants and desires were relevant only where they served his obsessions.

He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her from the vanity, moaning at the feel of her clinging to him with every fiber of her fragile, scared being. He sank his fingers in her curls and pulled her head back, devouring her submissive, supple mouth, his hunger back to raging and ready for feeding.

He brought her to his bed and lay her in it, pressing his whole body into hers while sucking and nibbling her silky neck .

“So… are we still… I mean you still want to… are we…”

“Yes,” he assured, raising up to see all the emotions filling her words. Fear and desire were prominent, and both were craving-approved. “I’m a thousand percent sicker, now that I’ve had a taste.” He rose onto his forearms, using most of his body weight to push into her, the strain in her breaths giving him great satisfaction. He wanted her to always know how much power he had over her. He could easily crush her and at the same time, he chose to use it to bring about their ecstasy.

He filled his fists with her silky sweet curls and slowly tightened, watching her mouth open more the harder he pulled. He tilted her head back and used his teeth along her chin, still undulating his weight against her body until her little stress-grunts speared his cock.

He suddenly wanted her to know his plans and rolled off her, laying on his back with his hands behind his head. “I’m going to tell you what I intend to do to you.”

She got up on her elbow, looking at him. “Okay.”

He turned, meshing their gazes to see what his words did to her. “The first time I fuck you will be your initiation into my insanity. It will be a sixty-minute session. ”

“Sixty?” she gasped with wide eyes, more curious than worried.

All of it made his cock jerk. “Do you approve?” he asked, wanting to hear her say it.

“I… think so.”

“You should know I won’t be needing or even wanting your approval once the initiation is over.”

“No?” she whispered, propping her head on her hand, her breaths soft and unsteady with her arousal.

“Psychotic obsessions don’t require such things.”

“I see,” she said, smiling. “I’m glad I trust you.”

Those words turned his cock into a war hammer. He may not need her permission, but her trust was another matter. It was surely required in the mind of this sick love affair. “I will break you with twelve sessions within sixty minutes. Each one will unlock every part of my naughty girl. She will then do anything and everything I require. When I require it. How ever I require it. And why ever.”

She sat up and his gaze locked onto her breasts, calling up the filthy side of that beast. “You’re fucking tits need to be punished for being so nasty.”

“When… will we have that initiation session? ”

He leaned up and sucked her nipple, the silky plump flesh bringing the wicked things to the surface. “Tomorrow night,” he said, using his teeth on the fat tip. “After I move some of your things here.”

“Here? You… want me to.”

“I want you when I want you. I don’t know what that schedule will be until after your initiation.” Unless it changed. One thing he knew about this fire in him was its mind. And that it wasn’t his.

“Okay,” she said.

He suddenly realized he wasn’t going to give her any form of sexual release either. “You will not have an orgasm until that session,” he said, moving onto his elbows. “But your psychopath will have his.” He remembered his cock piercings, considering what kind of orgasm he wanted her to give him. “I’m going to use those nasty little tits this time. While you suck your King’s crown.”

She gasped, staring at his cock now tall in his fist.

“Lay on your back, my Doo-nie.”

She got in position, her eyes not moving from his shaft as he straddled her waist.

“Pull your legs back and hold them wide open for me.”

She held her legs back as directed, eyes hot on his cock as he stroked it. He stared down at her tits in this position, lowering his ass to her body and putting enough weight to again teach her his power. He squeezed her mounds together and she gasped, arching her back when he tugged on them with a groan, sliding his dick between the silky mounds.

“Oh,” she whispered, leaning up to catch his head with her mouth.

He considered grabbing the pillow to put under her head, then decided he wanted to see how she’d work for it. Her effort to find a rhythm had him popping from her lips, her teeth scraping and gouging while her little errant tongue fought for some of the action. If he wasn’t drunk with lust, it might have been cute, but it was anything but. His gaze moved between her mouth and her fucking nipples, unraveling his control as he slid his cock between her mounds.

Her little desperate grunts and moans continued to pull his orgasm forth. He should’ve removed his cock jewelry and bathed. The need to feel the back of her hungry throat had him seething. He moved in closer, changing the dance. “Use your hands,” he whispered, placing a palm on the headboard for the perfect angle. He pumped the head between her lips while her hands stroked him, the erratic rhythm of her inexperience bringing a chaos to the fire burning in his breaths.

She leaned and took more of his cock, pulling his shaft with both hands to get him into her greedy mouth. “Doo-nie,” he gasped, gripping the curls on the top of her head, and pulling hard. “Look how fucking nasty you are, sucking the head of my cock.”

Her hand raked over his balls, flooding them with electrical sparks as she moaned louder on him.

“Fuck,” he gasped, holding the base of his dick and her hair while pumping faster. “Are you ready for your King’s cum, angel?” he whispered, his moans thickening. “Oh angel,” he seethed when she captured the head in a relentless suction, her rough tongue hitting the slit. Her finger stroked behind his balls, and he placed a foot on the bed, pressing her fingers on the sensitive P spot as his orgasm surged up. “My angel, my Doo-nie,” he gasped right as her finger found his rectum and unleashed his orgasm. She sucked him down as her moans peaked with the flood of his cum. The pleasure was so much harder and more powerful than any he’d experienced, turning him into a true monster of furious growling seethes while she valiantly fought to recapture her messy rhythm.

Nothing could be messier than the utter destruction left in the aftermath. His breaths heaved in and out of his lungs as she licked and searched for any remnant of her new favorite dish. Meanwhile, her tiny moans and raking fingers all along his abs and chest climbed its way to the top of his addiction list.

He crawled his way down from his mind-blowing mountain of ecstasy and lay next to Lyric, pulling her close until she was tucked tightly into his body. As he sorted through his sick thoughts for his next item on the wicked to-do list, he got distracted by the lovely scent of her hair and the feel of it on his face and mouth. Like silky flower petals. He was soon in a field of purple lavender, cocooned in a warm mist with the enchanting melody of soft breaths lulling him deeper, beckoning him to stay five more minutes.

The night saw its end with him trapped in this heaven. And no desire to escape.