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I spit the word out and try to hang on to my anger in the face of his overwhelming masculinity. My heart thumps like crazy in fear and arousal as his hand brushes against my leg before sliding up my inner thigh. I gasp.
Preacher lets loose a slow, seductive smile. “Yeah, that’s right. This pussy is mine, and I don’t share.”
He slides my panties to the side and rubs the back of his knuckles along the length of my slit, and the moment a knuckle breaches the slit, my hips buck.
“You’re already wet for me, but you don’t trust me. Hate me.”
“I don’t hate you,” I growl. “But you’re damned right that I don’t trust you.”
His lips pull into a lopsided grin.
“You trust me with this,” he grunts and slips two fingers inside me. “Wet and clenching, just how I want you.”
My body is betraying me, and I want to be pissed off, but goddammit, the man knows how to use those fingers, and I’m already trembling and gasping at the pleasure shooting through my body.
“Preacher,” I pant and wrap my hand around the wrist at my throat.
He shakes his head. “You want it? Say the fucking words.”
“Tighter. Please.”
He smiles and moves closer, applying more pressure to my throat with one hand, pumping fast and deep into my pussy with the other. It’s too much, yet at the same time, it’s not enough. My anger still simmers in the background, but I need more to get off.
As if he can read my mind, Preacher smiles again and pushes a knee between my legs to spread them apart.
“Better.” He adds another finger, and I feel full, very fucking full, and his thumb starts to rub wild circles against my clit.
I’m close, and he knows it as his golden brown eyes stare into mine, daring me to deny myself the pleasure he’s giving to me. I wish like hell I was strong enough to deny it, but my orgasm is close and rising to the surface with every stroke of his hand. A low grunt escapes my lips, and Preacher smiles.
“Go ahead, Gia, let go. You know you want to.”
I shake my head at his command. This was my orgasm, my pleasure. Not his. “No.”
His other hand tightens around my throat, and dammit, I can’t control the way my pussy pulses around his fingers or the wetness that drips between us.
“Fine by me. Don’t come,” he tells me and closes the remaining gap between us. With one hand at my throat and the other doing deliciously wicked things to my pussy, his tongue darts out and traces the shell of my ear, and I’m done.
Totally fucking done.
My body freezes in a tight, tension-filled moment. My orgasm works its way from the depths of my body, finally breaking to the surface in a series of violent convulsions and grunts that no one would ever call ladylike.
Preacher is so good, I just might pass the fuck out.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Preacher
Gia’s body goes limp in my arms. Her legs give out halfway through the orgasm that still has her shaking and quivering, a stream of ‘fucks’ leaving her lush lips uncontrollably. I hold her up, my hands still at her throat and her pussy, until every ounce of pleasure has been wrung from her body.
“Feel better now?” I can’t keep the amusement out of my voice, which is clearly the wrong thing to do at the moment because the stubborn woman freezes and gets to her feet, pushing away from me with anger burning up her heavy lids.
“I always feel better after an orgasm,” she said in that sarcastic tone of hers, the one she uses to put up barriers.
Not this time. “Are you ready to be reasonable now?”
Her dark brows shoot behind her mussed hair. “I’m always reasonable, and that’s exactly why I’m leaving. Thanks for…everything.”
“You’re not leaving,” I tell her. “You’re staying your pretty little ass right here so we can talk.”
