Preacher

by Madison Faye

  “Wait, Gabriel, that…” I gasp as he does it again. “That’s not… that’s dirty.”

  I growls behind me. “I disagree.”

  “It’s… it’s a sin,” I gasp.

  “Where exactly in the bible does it forbid licking pussy?”

  I blush furiously, and when he puts his mouth on me again, I moan in pure pleasure. He growls into me, and his hands grip me tighter as his tongue drags over my pussy. I shiver from the heat, the pleasure melting through every inch of me. I suck at my bottom lip, my teeth raking over it as I squeeze my eyes shut. His powerful grip digs into my skin possessively, thrilling me almost as much as the wickedly naughty feel of his tongue pushing into me.

  I gasp as he slides it deeper into my opening, and I cry out as he swirls it around. He teases down to my button, and I gasp sharply when his tongue swirls over it. Oh Lord does it feel incredible. It’s the best thing I’ve ever felt, hands down, and my entire body quivers and shakes as the sounds of pure sinful pleasure fall from my lips.

  He growls, his fingers griping me tight and pulling me hard against his face. His tongue laps at my clitoris, and I moan eagerly—wantonly. I might be going to Hell, but it’s going to be on a pillowy cloud of pure heat and desire.

  His tongue slips back over my lips, teasing my opening as his fingers come up between my legs to tease my clit again in slow circles. He kisses higher, and higher, and suddenly my eyes go wide as his wicked tongue slides right over my… my…

  “Gabriel!” I choke his name out as the most sinfully hot pleasure I’ve ever dreamed of ripples through me. His tongue is on my… my ass, and it’s pure, white hot, pleasure. My eyes roll back, and my toes curl. My fingers dig into the edge of the baptism pool, and I moan deep in my throat with lust—shameless, eager, wanton lust.

  Gabriel growls into me, and his tongue teases in slow circles around my most forbidden, private place. He grunts, his hands gripping me tightly as he slides his tongue back between my legs to run it over my pussy again. I melt against him, and when his sinful lips fasten around my clit, and when he sucks gently and flicks his tongue across it, I start to crumble.

  The world spins and teeters around me, and the very air ignites with fire. I drop my cheek to my arm, panting and whimpering and gasping in pleasure as Gabriel drives me closer and closer to damnation.

  Sweet, blissful, aching damnation.

  The pressure builds and the fire consumes my very soul, and I know I’m going to break. I know he’s going to make me… make me orgasm again, and this time, I know it’s going to be even bigger than the first time.

  “I’m—I’m going to… Gabriel…!”

  I’m so close, but it’s right then that the other part of me—the repressed, the controlled part of me—reacts. I panic, feeling like I’m slipping from the light and falling into Hell. My breath catches, and I reach back as if to push him away before it’s too late.

  “Wait, Gabriel, we can’t—”

  “Yes, we can,” he hisses, grunting as his tongue swirls over my electrified clitoris and brings a cry of bliss to my lips.

  “Yes, we can, and yes, you are. Now come for me, angel. I want you come on my fucking face.”

  His mouth presses into me again, his tongue swirls over my clit, and his filthy words are the final stroke—the final straw that snaps me in two. With a cry of pleasure, I break, and the climax explodes through my very soul. I scream in pleasure, writhing and pushing back against his face as I squeal and moan and convulse against the side of the tub.

  His hands never leave me, and his tongue stays right on me through the entire thing, until I’m shaking all over and my vision is swimming.

  I’m gasping and still not quite able to stand as I turn and throw myself into his arms. I kiss him feverishly, and I know what that sweet slickness on his lips is, but I don’t care at all. I kiss him deeply and he growls into my mouth as he whirls us and leans against the edge of the tub. My body writhes against his, and I moan as I feel his huge, thick erection throbbing against my tummy.

  I gasp and slide my hand down to grip him once again, and I whimper as I start to stroke him slowly.

  “Fuck, Delilah…” he grunts, hissing in pleasure. The sounds from his perfect lips spur me on, and I keep rubbing him with my hand.

  “I want to… I want to make you…” I blush, panting as I kiss him feverishly and stroke him faster against my skin. “What you did to me.”

  “Come,” he growls. “Say it, angel. Let me hear you say it.”

  I whimper. “I—I want to make you come,” I hiss against his lips.

  He groans, his muscles bunching and his hands gripping me tighter.

  “Fuck, Delilah,” he growls. “You wanna make me come?”

  “Yes,” I gasp. I can feel his cock throbbing so hard under my fingers, and I stroke my hand up and down his length faster. His swollen head pulses against my skin, and I can feel his abs clenching tight.

  I’m standing naked in a baptism tank, lips seared to those of a preacher, with my hand jerking his cock.

  Satan take me now.

  Gabriel growls and clutches me to him. He kisses me fiercely, one hand gripping my ass and the other tangling in my hair. I moan, my hips shamelessly rocking into him as my hand strokes his huge, throbbing hard cock. He hisses, and I feel him twitch in my hands, and suddenly, I feel it. I moan as his cock lurches against me and begins to spurt hot, sticky liquid across my tummy.

  I moan, and I keep stroking him as the stickiness drips down his shaft and over my fingers. He roars in pleasure and kisses me fiercely, our bodies rubbing together and my pulse racing.

  No flames engulf me. No chasm opens, with demons surging out to drag me away to the fires below. In fact, when we slow and when he wraps his arms around me and pulls me close to kiss me slow and deep, my soul has never been more at peace.

  And I’ve never felt more saved.

  Chapter Eleven

  Gabriel

  This is bad. Well, no, it’s fucking incredible is what it is. But objectively, I’m definitely going to Hell for this.

  It’s been two days since Delilah came to me that night—the night I tasted her for the first time and made her come all over my tongue. And since then, I’ve spent almost every free second I have with my hands and tongue all over her. It feels like I’ve hit the damn pause button on life, and that it’s just her and I existing in this weird vacuum.

  She’s the inexperienced one here, not me. But with her, it all feels fucking new. Every kiss feels like I’m feeling it for the first damn time. Every touch is a new exploration. And believe me, I’m exploring every damn inch of her.

  Oh, but yeah, I’m definitely going to Hell. All it takes is one look down at the gorgeous little virgin on her knees between my legs in the Winnebago, her blonde hair teasing my thighs and her fingers wrapped tight around my cock to know that.

  “Like this?” she says softly.

  I watch in awe, my mouth hanging opening as she lowers her soft, pouty lips to my swollen, aching cock, and pushes her tongue out. She leans closer, and I groan as she swirls that tongue around my head.

  Holy shit.

  “Yeah,” I groan, panting. “Exactly like… oh shit.”

  Her hot little mouth slips over my head, engulfing me in wet, slurping heat. I groan, and my fucking toes curl as my abs clench. I hiss in pleasure as she strokes me slowly and sucks on my swollen crown, her blonde hair bobbing gently as the pure heat overtakes me. She bobs lower, taking me deeper, and I grit my teeth as I go fucking cross-eyed.

  She’s… good. Really, really fucking good. The first time, yesterday? Well, maybe not so much. But she’s come back swinging the second time, and my balls agree. She’s naked between my legs, and I can still taste her sweet honey on my tongue from making her come, three times, earlier. Once with her laid out across my bed, writhing in pleasure and twisting in ecstasy as I dragged the orgasm from her.

  The second time was her riding my face—and for a girl who was
embarrassed to try that, she rode my tongue like a rodeo cowgirl after about fifteen seconds.

  The third time was when she was getting a drink of water at my kitchen sink, still naked, and I couldn’t fucking resist her. That time, about ten minutes ago, I came up behind her and kissed her neck while I slid my fingers into her from behind. That time, I drove her to the very clawing edge before I dropped to my knee, gripped her ass, spread her wide, and tongued that hot little asshole while I rubbed her clit until she came screaming.

  …Hey, I never claimed to be anything less than a full-blown sinner.

  I groan as her mouth drags me out of my thoughts. I growl, and I stare at her in awe as she starts to go to town on my cock. She slurps wetly on me, her tongue swirling all over my underside as she swallows me deep. I hiss, and she slurps and sucks noisily on me, her hand stroking the length of me she can’t fit in her hot little mouth. Her mouth bobs slowly and sensually on me, and I stare at her heatedly.

  “Where the fuck…” I groan.

  She giggles and pulls away from me, panting and blushing. “I—I did some research, since yesterday.”

  I frown. “Research?”

  Her blush blooms red across her face, and she rakes her teeth over her lip as she strokes me and look up into my eyes.

  “I… watched some videos online.”

  I grin, and my cock swells in her hand. “You mean porn.”

  She blushes even deeper and rolls her eyes. “Can you just let me concentrate?”

  “My mouth is shut.”

  She giggles, and then she purrs quietly as she leans back down. I groan as her hot mouth engulfs my cock again, and her tongue teases my crown. Her soft hand strokes me up and down, and she bobs on my fat, swollen cock as the pressure builds. I groan, and my control begins to break apart as I lose the battle to her lips.

  “Fuck, Delilah,” I growl, gently pulling her away.

  “What?”

  “You’re gonna make me come, beautiful,” I groan.

  She blushes, and something wild sparks in her eyes. “I want…” she looks into my eyes with a mix of lust and embarrassment.

  “Just… you know…”

  I frown. “What?”

  She swallows, her eyes blaze.

  “I want you to come in my mouth.”

  She lowers that mouth back to me, but I almost don’t even make it back inside. Her lips slide wetly over me, and her tongue swirls around my head, and I lose it. I groan, and my heavy balls twitch as my cum erupts into her mouth. My hot load spurts in thick ropes across her tongue, and she sputters a little, but she swallows quickly and eagerly, moaning around me as she strokes me into her eager mouth, until she’s swallowed every drop.

  Good. Fucking. Lord.

  I drop into the couch, panting for air, every muscle in my body spasming as she slips her mouth from me. She giggles and slides up onto the couch with me. I groan, pulling her close to me, and she snuggles against me.

  “Better this time?”

  “You… holy fuck, beautiful,” I groan.

  She grins and looks up at me. “I like when you call me that.”

  “What, beautiful?”

  She blushes. “Yeah, that.” She leans in, and I kiss her lips slowly and softly as my arm goes around her.

  Suddenly though, she pulls away and look at the clock. She gasps and jumps from my arms and the couch and quickly starts to pick up her clothes.

  “Crap!” she gasps. I grin. It’s fucking adorable that even after all of my corrupting, or even with her being naked with my cum still on her tongue, she won’t bring herself to swear.

  “I have to run before my parents wonder where the heck I am.”

  She yanks her clothes back on, to my dismay, and then leans into me to kiss me deeply. I grab her and make a move to slip my hand under her skirt, but she giggles and pushes my hand away as she stands.

  “That was a lot of fun,” she murmurs softly.

  “Uh, yeah,” I chuckle.

  She giggles and beams at me. “Later?”

  “Hell yes.”

  She blushes when I stand and draw her into me, kissing her deeply again before I finally let her go. She holds my gaze before she turns and opens the screen door to the Winnebago and slips out. I watch her skip across the field back to her truck, me still nude and leaning against the doorframe shaking my head.

  Damn.

  This is nothing I was looking for. Hell, I don’t even know what “this” is. It’s casual, but not. It’s a “teaching arrangement,” but that’s bullshit. No, when I watch her walking away from me, and I feel that dull ache in my chest at her not being here with me right now, I know damn well this isn’t remotely casual.

  But I better figure out what is, and fast.

  “Afternoon, preacher!”

  I smile and give a wave to the man across the street who waves at me. Then at the other couple who says hello. It keeps on happening, until it feels like every fucking person on Main Street in downtown Canaan is there to say hi and shake my damn hand.

  It’s been a few hours and two sermons since Delilah left my Winnebago earlier, and my head still isn’t on straight. Something’s amiss, or changed, with me. For one, all I can think of is her, but even more confusing is that all day, and all day yesterday, I’ve really just been genuinely preaching. Actually, since my first day here when she fell into my world, I’m basically just actually being a preacher of the Lord’s words. Okay sometimes they’re made-up words that just sound good, but still.

  I’m not actually selling shit to them, either. I mean, sure, there’s the collections plates, and the baptism I’m still giving. But no “miracle” cures. None of Kane’s bullshit arthritis “medicine.” No pieces of wood from that barn I found in Minnesota that I claim are pieces of Peter the Apostle’s literal coffin. None of that shit.

  I walk down the pretty little tree-lined streets of Canaan, saying hello to every damn person I see, and it suddenly hits me: I like this. I like that everyone says hi to me and wants to smile at me. I like that I haven’t really sewn any ill-will here, or even done much ripping off. And really, I just like it here—this town, I mean. For a second, I can almost see myself just living here, permanently.

  …For a man who hasn’t stopped moving in years, trust me, that’s a foreign concept. It’s also fucking with my head.

  I scowl, and I decide to do the grocery shopping I came to town to do is fast as possible so that I can get my ass out of here. But suddenly, I hear my name once again.

  “Gabriel!”

  I frown, and I pretend I don’t hear it, until I hear the footsteps behind me, and the voice call my name again.

  “Wait, Gabriel!”

  Shit. I turn, and sure enough, it’s Paul Somerset. I force a smile to my face.

  “Hey, Paul, how are you?”

  “Great, Gabriel, great. How’s your day?”

  Amazing. Your sister swallowed my cum after I made her orgasm all over my mouth, three times.

  “Fantastic,” I smile. “Just fantastic.”

  He nods. “That’s great. Well, hey, could…” he frowns. “Could I follow up with you on that church idea?”

  Right. Shit.

  I sigh. “Paul, you know what, I need to—”

  “Could we sit?”

  “Uhhh, sure?” I wince. Fuck, I do not need to get pulled into this shit right now. Or, you know, ever.

  “But Paul, I really do need to—”

  “Just one minute of your time, sir, I promise. I know this could be good.”

  “Yeah, um, one minute.”

  He grins. “Fantastic. Here, over here.”

  I groan inwardly as he drags me over to the Morning Glory Cafe and sits at one of their outdoor tables before gesturing to the chair next to him. Begrudgingly, I sit as Paul whips out a laptop. He opens it up, and my eyes almost bug out of my head. His background is a photo of him hugging a woman in a sundress, who’s kissing his cheek lovingly.

  The woman is Lizzie Purcell
, aka, my persistant midnight visitor out at the Winnebago a few nights ago.

  What the fuck?

  “Uh, Paul, who…”

  He turns and grins at me. “Oh, Lizzie?” his smile widens. “That’s my fiancée, Mr. Marsden.”

  I smile thinly at him. “Fantastic, Paul. That’s fantastic for you.”

  Poor fucking bastard, I groan inside, but I keep my mouth fucking shut.

  “Okay, so, this is my spreadsheet of donations so far, along with our goals and benchmarks.”

  Paul opens up an Excel file, and I blink in shock as my jaw about hits the table. For one, because the sheet is meticulous, and highly detailed. But for two, and more importantly, because Paul has somehow managed to crowdsource almost two million dollars for his church. I mean forget this con man shit, I should go out and fundraise for an actual church. I mean, shit.

  “Jes—” I catch myself. “Wow, Paul, that’s really impressive.”

  He smiles at me. “Thank you, sir. It’s not just from Canaan, though, a few other local communities and churches have pitched in.” He beams. “The Lord has called me to His service, and I’ll do what I must to honor His name with a church worthy of Him. And I think if you felt the call too, as another man of God, I know we’d surely be appreciative of anything you could give for the cause.”

  Yeaaah, no fucking way.

  I clear my throat and smile at him. “Look, Paul—”

  “You know what?” He jumps out of his seat. “Let me go get us some coffees. Are you a latte man, Mr. Marsden?”

  “Uh, sure?”

  He grins. “My treat. Sit tight, I’ll be right back.”

  He darts inside, and I blow air through my lips. Yeah, no damn way am I giving some of my hard-earned, or at least hard-won money towards his dumb church. Not a chance. I frown and look at his spreadsheet, and I shake my head. The figure he’s raised is seriously impressive. It’s envious, actually. My eyes move over the tables, and I shake my head. Yeah, I might be in the wrong business here.