“Goddamn, you look good with my cock in your ass,” he growled. Everything he did and said was so filthy, it should have felt wrong. But it didn’t.
I let out a low groan as he worked his cock in and out of my body. He reached forward, kissing my neck as he pinched my nipples. Preacher was a whole lot taller than me, and his arms were a whole lot longer. He put those long arms to good use, sliding one down between my legs as his body rocked above mine.
“I want to see your face while I fuck your ass,” he said in a rough voice. Hot embarrassment flushed my face, but I didn’t protest when he pulled out and turned me over. I watched as he guided my arms to hold my legs against my chest. He gave me a smoldering hot look as he parted them so he could see my body. Then he was guiding his cock back to my ass, driving into me slowly but without any mercy.
“That’s it. That’s so good, sweetheart,” he said approvingly, as if taking his entire cock up my ass earned me a gold star. He stared at my face, reaching down to rub his thumb over my clit while he slowly fucked me into oblivion.
“You can come now, sweetheart.”
I whimpered, my head tossing on the pillow. I couldn’t understand what he was doing to me. My body was sending so many signals in every direction. He tweaked my nipple with his other hand and that was it.
The world exploded into light and pleasure and white noise. I couldn’t think or move. I couldn’t even hear Preacher until a few moments later when he bellowed in pleasure, coming with me.
He collapsed forward, his body jerking as the orgasm tore through him. I was still coming, still bearing down on him, still barely aware of anything but the hard, pulsing cock inside me.
“Fuck, Cynthia, how can you feel so good?”
We stayed like that, my legs bent up, his chest pressing into my inner thighs until the tremors stopped. It took a while. As I came back to myself, I felt so exposed and embarrassed I couldn’t even look at him.
“Feeling shy, buttercup?” he asked with a knowing chuckle. “You’ll get used to doing dirty things with me,” he said as he tugged his cock free. “I know you already like it.”
That was an understatement, I thought, feeling ashamed. He didn’t let me run to the bathroom and hide, though. He captured me and pulled me against him, rubbing his hand up and down my back in a way that was surprisingly soothing.
Then he slapped my ass. Hard. I stared at him indignantly, forgetting to be embarrassed by all the disgusting things we’d just done.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “So I can get you all dirty again.”
Chapter Seventeen
Preacher
“Hold still,” I ordered the drowsy-eyed beauty as I quickly turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature. I couldn’t tear my eyes off her gorgeous curves and relaxed, almost sleepy face.
She is too pretty, I decided. It really wasn’t fair. Her beauty made me feel, and want to do, crazy ass things.
Even an old bear like me couldn’t resist her, and I’d been around the block a thousand times or so. She made me feel like a kid again, before I’d gone to the dark side. Hell, I knew deep down that I didn’t deserve a woman like Cynthia. Fiery, sweet, smart, and gorgeous?
And way, way too young for me. But I wasn’t going to let that stop me.
I grinned suddenly, more than aware that I had won the lottery. Cynthia was mine. Now I just had to find a way to keep her.
Because there was no way in hell I was letting her get away.
I’d tasted heaven. I couldn’t give her up. I wouldn’t.
“Do you like it hot?” I asked, sliding my hands down her body to cup her insanely perfect ass. Jesus, if I hadn’t been a believer before, I would be after tasting her.
The woman actually tasted like honey.
She blushed adorably, looking so shy it nearly made me feel guilty for all the filthy things I’d done to her. And all the other filthy things I had yet to try.
My cock popped up just from brushing against her. Her eyes got as wide as dinner plates, and I chuckled.
“You give me religion, sweetheart. I’ve been almost constantly hard since the moment I met you.”
I lifted her up and into the ancient bathtub. Cynthia’s apartment was nearly as old as the parsonage, or close to it. She had one of those solid deep cast iron soaking tubs, almost as big as the clawfoot tub at Paul’s place.
I could do a lot of damage in a bathtub, I decided.