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His gaze lasers in on my tits, my hips, my legs. Preacher licks his lips and tosses the shirt behind him. He glances at the counter, smiling at the omelet and two forks resting on a paper towel before they return to me. “You made breakfast.”
“I made brunch,” I clarify and let out a squeal of excitement when he lifts me in the air. Something about being so close to him like this turns me on instantly. Maybe it’s the sight of his shirtless body or the gray sweats that hide not one inch of his hard cock.
“This is how we should start every day.” He lays me on the kitchen table and shoves down his sweats until his cock springs free.
I lick my lips and spread my legs. “Yes, please.”
When Preacher sees that I’m instantly wet, his nostrils flare. He’s stroking his cock, and I reach for him. “Let me do that.”
He smiles and bends over to kiss me while I stroke his already hard cock, leading him right to where I need him.
“Oh, fuck, yeah!” Will I ever get used to how long and thick he is? The way he fills me up so completely that I don’t want or need anything else?
His elbows bracket my head, and his face is buried in my neck, growling with every thrust. He fucks me good and deep, like he can’t get enough of me, like we didn’t spend all last night fucking our brains out.
I’m not complaining. It’s a total mind-fuck to know that I can do this to a big, strong man like Preacher.
“Gia,” he growls, and in the next second, I feel his teeth sink into the sensitive flesh of my neck hard enough, I know there will be a bruise later, but I don’t give a fuck.
“Make me yours,” I whisper, and those words only make him fuck me harder. He’s holding the top of my head and thrusting so hard it only takes a few strokes before my pussy quivers and then clenches around his thickness. I’m still sensitive as fuck from last night, and it only takes seconds before I’m coming.
Preacher pumps through my orgasm, which is a hot as fuck feeling, like I’m out of control like my body is betraying me in the best possible way.
I think I’m coming down from the orgasm, but every thrust sends me higher and higher until I’m scratching at his shoulders, pushing at his chest even as my feet dig into his ass, urging him deeper.
“Ah, fuck,” he grunts, and a second later, he’s filling me up with the seeds of his pleasure before he collapses on top of me. He pulls back with a satisfied grin. “Good morning, beautiful.”
I smile back, feeling as giddy as a schoolgirl. “Good morning to you, handsome.”
An aftershock of pleasure squeezes him, sending his hips jutting forward. “Shit.” He grins. “Don’t want to let me go, huh?”
I shake my head. “Never.”
Heat fills his gaze. “Good, because I’m not going anywhere, Gia. You’re mine now. You got that? Mine.”
His. That sounds pretty fucking amazing to me. I sit up, not giving a damn about the sensation of his jizz dripping out of me. “Yours.”
He kisses me long and hard, and I’m ready to fuck again, but Preacher grins as if he can read my thoughts when he pulls back.
“Later,” he promises and slips one finger deep inside me where our juices are mingling together.
“Now,” I moan as my head falls back.
“After breakfast,” he says and hands back the t-shirt, still smiling.
“Smells good.” Preacher takes the seat next to me and hands me a fork, and we both dig into the omelet in a comfortable silence.
Like a real couple.
That thought is interrupted by the sound of the doorbell breaking the intimate bubble around us.
“I’ll get it,” he grunts and pushes away from the table, giving me an incredible view of his hard ass in those sweatpants, but it’s the sight of all the tattoos that makes me smile.
He’s a good man, a hot man, a real fucking man, but those tattoos say he’s got just enough bad boy in him to fuck me and keep me in line.
Fucking perfect.
“Ro!” I jump to my feet at the sight of my best friend and wrap her in my arms. “What are you doing here? Not that I’m not glad to see you, but this is a surprise.”
