Page 93 of Preacher Man

He impaled her to the motel bed. Punishing her with sex for her secrets. She cried out hoarsely. Loud enough to sound a little unhinged as he began to pound inside her soft well used sore tissue. The wet slapping went on. Heavy breathing collectively the only noise in the room.

His thrusts were incredibly hard it was as though he was trying to propel her into a new dimension. He was just as strung out as Ruby was. She loved that he never hid it.

Their eyes locked. Panting against each other’s mouths, she took in his air, tasting him.

He moved deeper into a new place that caused convulsions all along her lower spine, she extended up intentionally sliding him into her before she locked around him, forcing him to work to pull free.

“You’re a little minx, aren’t you?” He sunk in deep. Grunted and repeated.

“Only on Tuesday through Monday. Is that all you got, Preacher man? Here I thought you were the greatest conqueror of sex. Or so the bathroom stalls say...” She goaded though she didn’t think she could take more, exhaustion weighed her bones down. He took it as a challenge by grinning, that cocky man, licking the salty sweat from his upper lip and throwing his hips down hard. As if an unspoken command her vagina turned molten, growing wetter than she ever had been before, folding in around his cock, she died a little from the excitement swamping her system, tiny bombs of pleasure so acute her fine hairs stood on end.How did hookers do this every day? Fuck. She was dying.

Hours of intensity flew by.

The barest touch and she was a mass of tremors in his arms.

This pussy is mine. Only I can make you feel this. Open your legs, show me what’s mine.

He had it so wrong. So, wrong. But oh, every growled word turned her inside out. For a moment she could enjoy it, enjoy Preacher, let herself have him. Allow herself to belong to him.

He pressed his lips tenderly to her forehead, all the while slowly rolling his hips, cradling her head in his hands, it was eye-locked fucking. Exhausted, yet driven by the clawing pleasure they raced towards. It was endless.

Their time was winding down, surely, they couldn’t fill every second with sex. She’d die.

Soon he would insist on knowing the answer to his question.

Who was Sebastian?

Her heart constricted. The biggest, the purest love of her life. That’s who Sebastian was.

It wasn’t what he was thinking.

“Stay in the moment with me, Rubes.”

“I am.” She panted flicking her gaze to his.

“You went away.” He slipped in. Pulled out. A leisurely joining, both tired and sore. Carefully aware they’d fucked anger into each other for hours now. She stroked hands around his waist, enjoying his weight, luxuriating in touching him.

“I’m here.” She struggled to get her breath.

She was, for now. But even fuck buddies had their end date and she saw theirs in the distance growing closer.

Why did that hurt her? Why did she want to curl into a ball and cry herself stupid? This was only sex, she reminded. The greatest sex she’d ever had. Life altering.

She’d never recover from Preacher.

And here she’d thought the crazy lunatic Kyle Williams, would be the biggest gnarliest impact of her life.

When all along it was the man on top of her, inside her, the man stroking the side of her face with such reverence her heart bumped hard. To stop herself from seeing that look on his face she leaned up and took his mouth, kissing him and kissing him.

Life was so crappy, she knew this and still, it hurt to know she couldn’t have this one good thing for very long, because before long Karma would step in with her Manolo's and screw Ruby over. That's just how it went. Her own wants would be sacrificed to do what she always did; take care of others.

It was just the way it was.

The family didn’t deserve her.

She kissed Preacher for a long time, and long after their sex was over and she lay in the cradle of his arms, shivering from the trail of his fingertips down her spine, the quiet enveloping them in that grotty motel room with the noise from a loud TV coming from next door.

Preacher man had knocked her socks off.

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