Page 20 of The Hitman's Omega Priest
The thick glide of Bishop’s penetration turned his entire world upside down, and Kensley was addicted. Nothing in the world could ever top this moment, as his omega body was finally used for its intended purpose. Finally filled and pleasured and worshipped, instead of hidden and ignored. Bishop bent to kiss him as he began thrusting hard and deep. Each time his cockhead scraped across Kensley’s prostate, another gush of wetness added to the amazing slide.
Kensley’s own cock was trapped between their bellies. He wanted to reach between them, to jack himself off, to relieve the desperate pressure building in his balls—he also didn’t want this to end. He needed it to last forever, for it to carry him away to a place where no one was hunting for him. Where no one could hurt him. A place where this was real and not just a temporary indulgence.
“Fuck, I’m close,” Bishop panted. He reached down and fisted Kensley’s erection. The rough touch sent Kensley over the edge after only a few strokes.
None of his books prepared Kensley for the reality of an orgasm born of a hand on his dick and a dick in his ass, thrusting him to the edge and over. His entire body seemed to vibrate apart and come back together in a brand-new form, satiated and exhausted, and humming with pleasure and sensation, every nerve a buzzing live wire. He blinked up at Bishop while he caught his breath, newly aware that Bishop had stopped fucking him.
“Did you come?” Kensley asked.
“Not yet. I had to stop and watch you. You are so fucking gorgeous like this.”
“Want to see you come, too. In me.”
Bishop braced both hands on the bed beside Kensley’s head and dragged his cock out slowly. So slowly that Kensley thought he’d actually pull out completely. Then Bishop shoved back inside, and Kensley cried out, thrilled at this new aggression. Desperate for Bishop to stop thinking and to chase his own release. To use his wet hole the way it was meant for, and Kensley hung on.
He took in every detail he could, from the lines on Bishop’s forehead to the scents of sweat and musk and sex. The way their skin shimmered with perspiration, semen, and slick. The pants and grunts and slaps of flesh on flesh. Kensley clenched his hole. Bishop hollered, pushed deep inside, and emptied into Kensley’s greedy body. He swore he felt the heat of Bishop’s release flooding his insides, claiming him, marking him as Bishop’s and no one else’s.
Binding them forever.
Reality was a touch less romantic and more messy. Bishop pulled out then smothered him with his broad, sweaty body,his softening cock rubbing gently against Kensley’s while they kissed. Kensley shifted his hips and winced at the tenderness. He’d been wet and ready but damn, Bishop still had a big dick, and he’d gone hard.
Kensley didn’t regret a single thing, though.
“That was…better than I imagined,” Kensley whispered. “Wow.”
“I love hearing wow. If I’m going to hell for fucking a priest, it was worth it.”
Kensley snorted and skated his fingertips across the rough skin on Bishop’s back. “Definitely worth it. I can’t wait to do it again.”
Bishop raised up on one elbow, his expression difficult to read. He was smiling but he also seemed…uncertain? “Yeah?”
“Hell yeah. This wasn’t a one-and-done to lose my virginity, Bishop. I’ve loved you for half my life. Even after I thought you’d died, I didn’t stop loving you. I don’t want to think about King’s next phone call, or who’s trying to use me against him. I want to exist in this, right here and now. Us.”
“We can’t exist like this forever.”
“I know. But can we pretend for a little while longer?”
“Absolutely.” Bishop settled over him again, his head resting on the pillow beside Kensley’s, gazing at him with something like love in his eyes. “Just us.”
“Yeah. Just us.”
FIVE
Bishop was definitely goingto hell and, as he stretched out beside a freshly-washed and now-sleeping Kensley, he didn’t fucking care. He could die tomorrow, and he’d storm the gates of hell with glee, because he’d been able to make love to a man he’d lusted after for years. A man he never thought would love him back, or who would come so readily to his bed.
Three times in twelve hours.
His shoulders and thighs ached from exertion, and even his dick was a little tender from all the friction, but he’d never complain. After their first amazing, mind-blowing time having sex, they’d lazed around until the chill sent them for a hot shower. Together. Bishop hadn’t been able to stop touching Kensley, and Kensley had eagerly given in to being bathed by him. Bishop had been very thorough, especially with the delicate bits, and they’d ended up fucking for a second time in the shower.
It had been a little awkward and slippery, and they’d finished on the bathroom floor, but no regrets at all. The rest of the afternoon had been quiet, with them snacking on the not-great selection of food, cuddling on the couch, and waiting for hisphone to ring. Eventually, King texted that he was still finalizing details and would call tomorrow.
Kensley had gotten restless. After a quick exploration of the cabin, he found a drop-down ladder to an attic-like storage space. He’d discovered an old TV/VCR combo and a box of tapes, and they’d settled in to watch reruns of a black-and-white cop show someone thought was worth recording. It was cheesy and fun, and the vintage commercials were hilarious.
After heating up a few cans of beef stew, Kensley had plopped himself right on Bishop’s lap, and round three began. It went from the kitchen to the couch, and finally ended in the bedroom. Bishop changed the sheets while Kensley showered, and by the time Bishop finished cleaning up, his precious Kens was fast asleep in bed. He double-checked that the house was secure before sliding into bed with him, loving the way Kensley shifted closer in his sleep.
In its own way, it had been a perfect day. They could have been a pair of newlyweds, spending their honeymoon in a friend’s cabin, so they could hike and enjoy the fresh air. The truth was a far more bitter pill to swallow, so Bishop held onto the fantasy as he tried to sleep.
But he couldn’t sleep. Nightmares kept jerking him awake on jolts of fear and loss. He didn’t remember his dreams after he woke from them, only how he felt, and he hated feeling so out of control. Like he’d lost something precious. He could have been dreaming about losing Kensley, or the loss of his old life in that fire, he didn’t know. But it left him unsettled and restless, and he was out of bed before dawn.
