Preacher Read online Madison Faye

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Erotic, Funny, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 53965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
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They involve his hands all over me, and especially in places where no hands but my own have ever touched. I blush, and I shiver on the bed as the filthy thoughts take over and crush the rest of my defenses. I close my eyes and pull a blanket over me. My breath comes ragged, and slowly, I unbutton my jeans. I swallow thickly and push them down beneath the blanket, and my hands slide over my tummy.

My fingers find the edge of my plain, regular cotton panties, and I know it’s wrong, and sinful, and horrible, but the Devil has taken hold of me. The Beast himself has sunk his claws into me, and I can’t stop.

I gasp as my fingers slip under the waist and push deep into my panties. Smooth skin turns to soft downy hair under my fingers, and then with a muffled gasp and stifled moan, that turns to slick, velvety-soft, wetness. My fingers bump over the little nub between my legs, and I gasp sharply. I turn my head, squeezing my eyes shut and biting at my pillow as my fingers push lower. I spread myself open, blushing horribly as one digit slips between to tease over my wetness.

Over my… my pussy.

Even thinking the crude word has me shivering on the bed, and my fingers become more eager. I rub that little bump again, which I know is my clit, I just can’t bring myself to even say it in my head. I keep rubbing it with one finger while my other hand slips lower. I push a finger down between my lips, and I whimper into the pillow as it finds my opening. I slip it inside, and the pleasure begins to overtake me.

When I close my eyes tightly, it’s Gabriel touching me. It’s the Devil himself pushing his hands between my legs and touching me where no man ever has. He’s stroking me closer and closer to something… tight, and hot, and trembling. Something I’ve always stopped just short of, because it scares me. But this time, I know there’s no stopping.

With Gabriel in my head, and those piercing blue eyes gazing over me, and those lips on mine, in my head, he’s moving over me on the bed. He’s spreading my legs, and instead of his finger, it’s his… his…

I blush.

His cock that slips between my lips and begins to sink into me.

Claiming me. Taking me. Damning me to sweet, panting, moaning, and thrashing Hell and damnation.

I rub faster, and my hips begin to arch off the bed. I’m past where I’ve ever gone before, I know the explosion is almost inevitable this time. I moan into the pillow, my pulse throbbing in my ears and my body tensing and clenching and getting ready to explode. My fingers rub my clit harder, and I’m about to shatter at any moment—

When there’s knock at my bedroom door.

“Delilah, honey?”

I almost have a heart attack.

With a muffled shriek of pure mortification, I literally throw myself off the side of the bed, taking the bedside table and the books on it with me. My mother gasps on the other side of the door.

“Delilah? What was that!”

“It’s fine! It’s fine!” I scream, cringing and blushing almost painfully with embarrassment. “Don’t come in, I’m changing!” I yell as I furiously pull my panties back into place and yank my jeans up. I cringe when I feel how wet my panties are against me—a sobering reminder of just how close to that line I got. How close to sin I got.

I suck in a breath of air and sit there on my bedroom floor, trembling.

“Delilah?” my mother calls again.

“Y—yes?” I croak. Lord, just take me now, please?

“Honey, I wrapped up some extra food from dinner, and I was hoping you’d take it over to Preacher Gabriel?”

My heart skips, and my eyes go wide.

No. Lordy, no. No times a million and a half.

“Oh, mama, I was just getting ready for bed.”

“Oh, but sweetheart, we both know the good preacher barely has two pennies to rub together for a good meal. He’s truly a selfless man of God, traveling the country on what he can, spreading His word. Think charitably, Delilah? Please?”

“Mama—”

“Your father says you can drive the pickup over, too. No need for you to go walking halfway across town in the dark.”

I shiver, staring at a spot on the floor and feeling this shameful mix of fear and excitement.

“Mama—”

“Delilah,” she says, much more tersely this time. “I’d love to stop asking, if you catch my meaning.”

I swallow and shiver, knowing that this is happening now. “Yeah, mama,” I finally sight quietly. “Yeah, I get it. Let me get dressed.”

“Oh, Gabriel doesn’t need you to dress up for him, honey!” she laughs. “Whatever you’re wearing is fine! I just don’t want it to get too late, okay?”


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