Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
My man was always excessive when it came to pleasing me. I tried to keep up, but it was damn near impossible. Preacher never seemed to complain, though. If I fell asleep after a couple of mind bending orgasms, he let me rest. But when I woke up, he was always ready for round two, or three, or four.
Sometimes, we even hit the five-time mark. And we had been together for two years! He showed no signs of slowing down or wanting me with any less ferocity than that very first night we’d spent together.
I let my fingers tangle in his beautiful silver hair while he brought me to what was sure to be the first of many knee-shaking orgasms. I tugged on his hair, wanting him inside me, even as the tremors rolled through me. He knew what I wanted and gave it to me instinctively, hooking the thick tip of his cock inside me and slowly filling me up, extending my orgasm and making it even more intense.
He groaned my name and cursed, the pleasure I was giving him showing on his craggy, handsome face. He stared deeply into my eyes as he started to move inside me. Every part of our bodies was touching, skin to skin. I could feel all the crinkly little hairs on his chest. I could feel everything.
My orgasm didn’t stop. It picked up speed again, taking me even higher. Preacher growled out words of encouragement, urging me on as his body scraped my aching clit with every stroke. I was out of my mind, my head tossing on the pillows, my body full of light and feeling and love.
“I’m going to come inside you. Cynthia? Please fucking tell me to come inside you.”
“Ahh!” I cried out. “Come inside me, Preacher. Please!”
With a helpless groan, the man above me froze then started jerking his hips out of tempo. I felt another orgasm coming on as he expanded inside me. Maybe the biggest one I’d ever had.
We both cried out as his seed filled me, shooting out of his body with tremendous force. We held perfectly still, both of us trembling, trying to catch our breath, and neither of us willing to move. After a few minutes, I shifted.
“Am I too heavy?”
“No,” I said. He always asked and the answer was always the same. I loved the feeling of him pressing down against my body. And he made sure that his weight was held up somewhat on his arms. My man always looked out for me like that.
“Good,” he whispered in my ear as he started to fuck me again. I sighed in pleasure, my already sensitive body right back there with him again. He hadn’t really softened much after coming, but now he was fully hard again.
“How much time do we have?”
“All night,” I said breathily. “Unless you want me to call Clarice and have her bring them over now?”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he practically shouted, pulling out and flipping me onto my stomach. “I have plans for you, missy.”
“I just bet you do,” I said as my fingers gripped the edge of the pillow and held on for dear life.
We didn’t end up picking up the kids until early afternoon. We had traditions to uphold, Preacher insisted, like naked pancakes. The entire bed ended up sticky and covered in syrup.
It took us hours to clean up.
But it was worth it.
With Preacher, it always was.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Casssandra
“What about this?” Kelly asked, holding up a frilly little black minidress with white polka dots. It was exactly the sort of thing she would choose for herself. I gave Claire a dubious look.
“She would look hot, but I think that’s more your style. Claire’s vibe is a little more . . .”
“A little less . . .” Parker added, trailing off to find the right word.
“Less froufrou,” Michelle said with a laugh.
Claire seemed a little nervous standing there in old jeans and a faded button-down. She looked gorgeous, as always. And she clearly didn’t know she was gorgeous, which made me like her even more.
“I don’t usually wear a lot of, um, ruffles?” she said hesitantly. “But I never really thought much about clothes.”
“Don’t worry, hon,” I said with a wink. “We will find your style. Let’s grab a little bit of everything to try on.”
She nodded shyly, and we were off to the races, everyone grabbing a bit of what they thought would look good on Claire. After a few rounds, we figured it out. She was classic and simple, but with a hint of romantic Bohemian thrown in. Just a little. Just enough to make her look extraordinarily pretty in soft florals, creams, and lace.
And then it was on to the shoes. That was the best part of a makeover, we all agreed. Hair and shoes.