Page 35 of Preacher Man

“There’s no way she’s getting out of here without me fucking her. Even if I have to offer my dick on a platter and say please.” – Preacher

A full-fucking cleavage on display and Preacher was done for.She was here.

It wassofucking on. He was a shark sensing blood watching her walk through the double doors like a runway model, all hips swinging and head held high. His brain told his dick to stand down, that throbbing shaft was taking over this mission and wasn't about listening to anyone. His brain listened as his mouth dried. Her tits… holy fucking fuck. Perfection. No overspill. Just nicely perched on her chest and accentuated by the tight thin cotton shirt with the deep slash in the middle letting the girls see him.

Oh yeah. My mouth is ready, babies, come to Preacher.He wanted total suffocation in those beauties.

Her nipples would be little caramel disks, he’d bet his right nut on it.

She’d left her hair down, swaying around her shoulders, poker straight tonight instead of her usual curls, it moved with the motion of her hips, hypnotizing him like the biggest perverted bastard walking ready to do her bidding whatever filthy thing that might be, he was in.

It didn’t need it, but he watched her fluff her hair. Little attention seeking minx. She had it. Oh, she had it. Preacher ate her up like he was gonna be punished if he didn’t finish what was on his plate. How he didn’t push her down and do her like a nasty dog right there he didn’t know. The urge was strong. So, fucking strong. He could barely think through the desire to eat her fucking alive.

He didn’t have a choice but to trail his gaze up and down and back again, stopping at all his favorite parts for a repeat stroke of his eyes, he really licked his eyes over her, it was the only thing to do. It felt as if he’d waited right in this spot for her for months, which was a ridiculous notion because until recently he hadn’t made any serious play for her, and here he waited to watch her come to him, with his mouth sand and his zipper tighter by the second.

It was when he got a view of the back of her his mouth flooded with water.Fucking hell. Her shirt was completely backless tied low on her waist showing him the most perfect side-boob he’d ever seen.

Those tits had to be his.

Fucks sake. As much as he was eye fucking her, so were a few of his club brothers.

Shitheads were just begging for a fight. Like really, he loved those assholes, but he’d lay them the hell out if they didn’t stop eye-boning Ruby. Some even whistled and called out lewdly with the sway of her glorious hips. I will rip your goddamn beard off and feed you it, assholes.He got his body to moving before one of the knuckleheads thought it wise to go and chat her up. He’d hate to punch someone he cared about.

He was seconds away from screwing her right there on the floor and while it was a regular occurrence for some, he didn't want to share her.Patience, he warned himself swallowing hard.

It took her a fucking week to walk over to him. In the meantime, he was a one-track mind; her, him, his bed and discovering how wet he could make her without dehydration setting in.

Ruby wasn’t a tiny woman, he’d been with small woman before, it was like banging a doll, he was always afraid of crushing them, she was tall by nature's standards, five seven in heels maybe, but even then, her forehead still only came to upper chest.

We’d be the same height if I banged her doggy style while I yanked on her hair. Oh, baby, yeah.

A waft of vanilla poured through him when she neared, above the smell of pot and booze and the general air of the club, he got stung by vanilla, the fragrance so clean and subtle, nothing overpowering, it made his cock throb inside his zipper.

Oh, hell, her chest was incredible, pert and standing up all happy and gorgeous, he was ten deep into fucking her tits fantasies and the good girl would take it, wouldn’t she?Oh yeah.It was her face that entranced him. Stunning.

Obsession was an ugly filthy fucking word.

He’d kept her very much in the elusive category. Sure, he knew right away she was a knockout and he liked her bitchy attitude, but he’d never even tried to come on to her.

He’d known.

He’d goddamn well known why.

Now he was taking her out of that box and obsession was exploding like confetti. He was so screwed.

Ready to play with. Ready to discover how amazing elusive would taste on his tongue, down his throat, soaking him in all her gorgeous snark.

It wasn’t true what his brothers said about him. Preacher knew how to have relationships, they’d only seen him with his fast hook-ups, couldn’t blame them for their assumptions,he just hadn’t wanted anything more than that, didn’t feel the pull, he let his dick steer the ship and just fuck when he wanted.

One night, or two. He wanted them with Ruby. He could break all his own rules for that one night of what he knew was going to be phenomenal sex.

Standing right behind her, a towering figure that was thinking mostly with his cock and what was wrong with that? He brushed her ear with his mouth, felt her shiver, enjoyed it. “You look absolutely stunning, baby.”

******

Those Renegade Souls men liked to party hardcore.

She was enveloped in sensation.

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