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King of the suits.

God of crime.

Father of my children.

My husband.

So, The Silver Swan turned human and grew her own wings.

Madison

Eighteen Years Later

THE SUN DIPS BEHIND THE tall trees in the forest as goose bumps break out over my flesh from the whoosh of cold air bristling through the branches. The water is still and calm, and the rock that’s poking out from the shore brings a smile to my mouth.

“I can’t believe this place looks exactly as it did all those years ago. Timeless.” I shuffle, turning in Bishop’s grip and he widens his legs for me to do so.

Reaching up, I run the tip of my finger over the stubble on his cheek. Bishop has aged like fine wine, but I already knew he would. It’s genetics—as much as I, at times, have butted heads with Hector.

He smiles and the wrinkles on his cheeks deepen as his white teeth flash. “Mmmm, timeless, huh?” He pulls me over his body and lays us flat against the sand. I push up from his chest, biting his cheek as he grinds me into him with his hand on my ass. “A bit like you.”

“I wouldn’t say that…” I murmur. “Raising the twins has definitely bitten into my chance of aging gracefully, and you know, there’s the fact that my husband is a ruthless underground god.”

“Shhh,” Bishop growls, laughing as he bites into my bottom lip and sucks it into his mouth. “There are eyes everywhere.” When he points up to the sky, I look up and catch a firefly buzzing above us.

“Huh, the fireflies…”

He follows my eyes up, his arm tensing around my body. “You know when we were kids, our parents told us that fireflies symbolize guidance. They only appear in the dark, a light trying to guide you through something that you may need direction with.” I rest my head against his shoulder. “Of course, they’re full of shit. It’s just so the little fuckers can get laid, but I don’t know. It always stuck.”

I stifle a laugh, kissing his neck, where stubble scrapes over my lips. “Actually, it makes a lot of sense.”

His fingers slide beneath my chin, raising my lips to his. When his tongue slips in, he swallows my moans like whiskey, leaning up to deepen our kiss. I bring my hand to the side of his cheek and grind my hips over his dick, swelling against my—

My phone starts blaring, and I pull back.

“Fuck them,” he growls, grabbing me from the back of my neck to pull me back to his lips.

“Bishop.” I laugh, pushing him back down and reaching for my phone. “It could be important.”

He sighs dramatically, lying back against the sand as his fingers crawl up my outer thigh. “It fucking better be.”

I pick up my phone and see Priest flash over the screen.

Chuckling, Bishop snatches my phone and sucks my neck. “The boy can fucking wait.”

I yelp out a scream when he pushes me back down onto the sand, spreading my legs while resting between them. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Bishop… we’re not teenagers anymore. We can’t—”

“—we can do whatever the fuck we want.” He lifts my skirt and hooks his finger beneath the string of my panties, pulling them down my legs and tucking them into his back pocket. A light breeze whistles over my clit before warmth from his mouth replaces it. My fingers dig into his hair as the tip of his tongue circles down my slit before sliding inside. Leaning up on my elbows, I watch as his jaw protrudes when his tongue glistens against my soft flesh.

He peers up at me behind thick lashes. “Wanna play a game?”

I laugh, pulling him up my body and wrapping my arms around his neck.

His eyes search mine, the same ones I looked into all those years ago. “I love you.”

He grinds against me until the head of his cock presses at my entrance. Gliding his nose over my jaw, he releases a soft growl as he sinks into me. “I love you too, baby. Now fuck your dick.”

“Bishop…” I laugh, my back arching off the sand as he busies himself with my boobs. “We can’t right now. They’ll be here any minute.”

“Fuck them,” he growls, biting on my nipple through my shirt while peering up at me through dark lashes. God, but he aged perfectly. His features are still the same, only harder. Rougher. And—I reach for the stubble on his cheek, my face reddening when I contemplate actually fucking my husband in what time we have left to do it.

“You and this beard.” He lifts himself off me and I instantly mourn his weight.

Leaning up on my elbows, I look up at him as he pulls at the belt holding up his slacks. “What are you doing?”

He looks over his shoulder slightly as his shirt glides off his tight arms. The sun has long since set now, with the only light coming from the small bonfire behind us on the sand and the beacon of light from the moon. “Meet you at the rock?”


Tags: Amo Jones The Elite King's Club Dark