by Madison Faye
I frown. Well this is interesting.
“I haven’t seen her, Paul.”
“Oh, well, maybe she’ll be by later.” He smiles. “And thanks again, preacher.”
He turns, and I watch him follow the rest of the morning’s crowd back across the field to the parked cars.
…I think I need a drink.
I start to turn, when suddenly, there’s a finger tapping my shoulder. I jump and whip around and come face to face with her.
“I need to talk to you.”
I blink, and I glance behind me, half expecting Jedediah to be standing there with a shotgun leveled at me.
“I’m alone.”
I smile wryly and turn back look at her.
Shit.
I told myself a thousand times last night that what happened was a mistake. I told myself to get my shit together, and to resist whatever witchcraft temptation that Delilah casts on me, whether she knows it or not. And I think I even had myself mostly convinced, until I turn around and drink in the sight of the blonde-haired angel in the floral sundress that clings to every damn sweet curve.
I growl lowly.
“What can I do for you, Delilah?”
Her lips curl at the corners. “No salaciously crude language or quip? No filthiness to try and trip me up?”
I grin. “You’ve caught me unprepared. If you give me a minute or two, maybe I can take my pants off or something.”
She giggles but quickly stifles it as her face reddens.
“I’ve…” she glances around. “Can we talk in private?”
I frown and look around at the entirely empty field.
“Maybe in there?” She nods at the tent, and I shrug.
“Sure.”
Delilah turns on a sandaled heel and walks over through the tent-flap, and I’m right behind her with my eyes glued to that tight little ass under the floral sundress. God help me. She walks all the way down the aisle and around the little stage to where my baptism tub-slash-hot-tub is, which is also almost a little office area for me.
“So?” I mutter once she stops and turns to me.
“So, I’ve been thinking.”
I unzip my big white “preacher” robe and toss it over the back of a chair. I fold my arms over my chest, and when she doesn’t continue, I arch a brow.
“Is this a guessing game?”
She blushes. “No, no. I—I’ve been thinking about…” her blush deepens. “About last night,” she breathes.
The beast stirs inside of me. “Which part?” I growl.
“All the parts,” she says quietly, her eyes sparking.
“And?” I grunt, stepping closer to her.
Delilah swallows, and her teeth rake over her lower lip. “And I’ve come to some conclusions.”
“Enlighten me, please?”
Her eyes dart over me. “I’ve decided that I was right. You are a wicked, probably sinful man, and I don’t believe that you’re truly a preacher.”
I frown, and my jaw clenches. Well, that’s it—the jig is up. If she hasn’t already told her parents and maybe even the local cops, she will, and that means I need to get three states away, pronto.
There’s another part to it too, though. The thing is, I don’t just lust over Delilah, though, I very much do. But it’s not just that. There’s more to it, even if I’m not entirely sure what or why or how it is a guy like me with no discernible soul or morals can even feel that.
But it is what it is, and now it’s time to get the fuck out of dodge.
“Nice to meet you, Delilah,” I growl. I turn to go start packing my shit, when her soft hand touches my arm.
“But,” she whispers.
My cock twitches. There’s just enough of a little… something to that “but” that has my nerves tingling, my jaw clenching, and my lust for her rising.
“But I’ve made peace with that.”
I frown. “Meaning?”
“Meaning, I know you’re a wicked man, but I also know that the world won’t always be a place like Canaan. I know next year, when I finally get to college, I’ll be in places and around people who aren’t… well, who aren’t what I’m used to.”
I sigh. “So, what, you want to take ‘evil’ lessons from me so you’re prepared for the wickedness of frat parties and beer pong?”
I start to turn to walk away from this nonsense, when her soft voice stops me cold.
“Yes.”
I freeze. I blink, and I slowly turn to her, one brow arched. “Excuse me?”
“Yes,” she says quietly, blushing as she twists her fingers together. “I—I know you’re lying to everyone about being a preacher, which is, well, pretty bad.”
I frown.
“But I also understand that you’re just doing it for money, not out of pure evilness or anything. So, it’s bad, but it’s not necessarily wickedness, I guess.”
“So you don’t think I’m the Devil?” I say dryly.
“I think you’re a devilish man,” she breathes. “But I don’t think you’re Satan himself.”
“Shit, I must be slipping.”
I grin, and she blushes bright red at my language. But I take a beat, and my eyes narrow at her.
“What are we saying here, Delilah?”
“I’m saying I want…” Her brows knit, and she looks down at her hands. “I’m not really sure.”
“You want me to show you a glimpse of… uh, wickedness.”
“I—yeah, yes. I think so.”
“You wanna get drunk?” I mutter sarcastically.
She wrinkles her nose. “I don’t think so.”
“How about some gambling.”
She shrugs.
“We could go rob a bank.”
Her eyes snap to mine. “Do you do that?” she whispers in shock.
I laugh. “Not exactly my speed, no.”
I level my eyes at her, and my pulse quickens I let my gaze slip over her again in that sundress. Fuck me, she’s pure goddamn tempta—
And then, it hits me.
“Last night,” I mutter, my cock twitching. Delilah blushes.
“Yeah…?” she whispers.
I step closer, and she sucks in a breath of air.
“Did you like when I kissed you?” I growl.
Her face burns even redder, and she looks fastidiously at her hands.
“Delilah…”
“Yes,” she whispers.
I groan. “A little, or a lot?”
“I…” she chews at her bottom lip. “Maybe this was a mistake—”
“Tell me,” I grunt.
She gasps quietly, and slowly, her eyes drag up to mine, so full of fear, excitement, and yes, lust.
“A lot,” she breathes.
“That why you’re here?” I growl. “That how you’re looking for me to show you sin?”
Her face burns crimson. “I—I don’t know,” she murmurs.
“Yes, you do.”
She gasps again as I step even closer to her, and when I reach out with one hand to slide it over her hip, she whimpers.
God help me, she whimpers.
“You sure you want this?” I growl.
Delilah looks up a me with big, wide blue eyes, flushed cheeks, and full, pouty, slightly parted lips. She looks like a girl who’s dying to be kissed. Actually, she looks like a girl who’s dying for a whole lot fucking more than a kiss.
And slowly, she nods.
“Say it,” I command.
“I—”
“You want this?” I growl. “Then say it. Because I’m not touching you until—”
In the span of a quarter second, she moves right into me, stands up on tiptoe, lifts her chin up, grabs my face in both her hands, and sears that pretty mouth right against my lips. And heaven itself couldn’t stop me now.
I growl, and my arms circle her possessively. She whimpers as my tongue pushes greedily past her soft, plump lips, and she melts against me as I suck her’s between mine. I groan, and my body coils ar
ound her, my arms circling her small frame and clutching her to me possessively. She presses right back, and her hips even grind against mine as she moans deeply into the kiss.
Yeah, there’s no going back now.
I turn us and push her back, slamming her into the little table that serves as my desk. She moans and it’s like the heat of it spurs her on to kiss me even harder. She clings to me, and my cock throbs rock hard against her. I slide my hands down over her to grip her ass through that soft little sundress. I groan at the feel of her under my hands, and she squeals as I grip her tightly and lift her up. I set her ass down on the table and push between her thighs, and her legs open willingly for me as she moans lowly.
Her long legs wrap around my waist, and the sundress bunches higher up her thighs. I kiss her with everything I have and everything I am, and I grind my rock-hard cock against the soft heat I can feel between her thighs. Fuck me, even through my jeans, I can feel how hot her little pussy is.
This little good girl wants a taste of sin? She’s going to fucking get it, come what may, and damn the fallout.
I growl as I kiss her fiercely, my tongue swirling with hers. One of my hands grips her ass, the other slides up her hip and over her ribs. Delilah whimpers and grips my t-shirt tightly with both hands. She moans eagerly into my lips, like she’s dying for more, and I’m all too happy to deliver. My hand keeps moving higher, and when I slip it over the soft mound of her breast, her breath catches sharply.
“Gabriel,” she moans. Her back arches, pushing the hard nub of her nipple against my palm, and I groan.
No bra. Bad girl.
My fingers tease over the aching little bud, and she sighs in pleasure. Her legs tighten around me, and I kiss her deeply and I rub her nipple until she’s trembling for me. Her hips rock against me again, harder this time, and I know damn well she can feel how fucking hard my fat cock is for her.
She’s still gripping my t-shirt like she wants to rip it off, so I reach down, grab the hem, and yank it up and over my head. I pull away just enough to whip it off before I crush my lips back to hers. She whimpers as her hands land on my bare chest, and her nails rake over my skin as she coos softly. I tug at one of the straps of her sundress and pull it down and off a shoulder. She moans as my hand skims down her bare shoulder.
I tug the strap lower, my pulse racing as half of the top of her sundress begins to peel down over the swell of her breast. Lower and lower it goes until with a soft moan from her lips, it slips over the nipple I’ve been teasing. I glance down, and groan lustily at her little pink dusky nipple, and my hand instantly moves to cup her again. My fingers tease the little bud again, and she cries out as her hips rock into me harder.
And I want more. I want to show her more.
My tongue swirls with hers, and I devour her moans whole as the hand on her ass begins to slide over her hip. It moves down and down, tracing the line of her panties under the dress, until I’m almost pushing it down between us. I grunt and pull her sundress up high, and when my hand lands on bare upper thigh, Delilah gasps and pulls back.
Her eyes are blazing with fire as they lock on mine, and I pause.
“You wanna stop, just—”
“I don’t want to stop,” she breathes.
“Then spread your legs,” I growl thickly, my eyes burning into hers. “Spread those pretty thighs and let me show you what sin really feels like.”
And she does. She grabs my face and kisses me like she’s been lost in the desert for forty fucking years, and my kiss is the first water she’s found. I growl into her mouth as her legs open for me, and my hand slides up to my prize. My knuckles drag over her soft cotton panties, and I hiss at how fucking wet they are, and I do mean fucking wet—soaked, really.
I rub my knuckles over her, and she whimpers so softly. My thick fingertip traces the edge of the panties, right where her thigh meets the plump lips of her pussy that I can just about feel through the slick cotton molding to them. I push the finger under, and then I keep going. She moans, trembling like she’s already close to coming for me just from my touch. My finger slides under and traces over her soft, slick, velvety pussy lips, and my cock lurches against her thigh through my jeans.
I grunt, and I yank her panties to the side. Delilah gasps, but when my finger slides up and down her lips, she coos softly.
“Oh God.”
She doesn’t know it yet, but Preacher Gabriel is about to bring her closer to the Almighty than she’s ever been before. I drag my finger higher, and when I roll it over her clit, and she cries out.
“Oh my God!” she gasps before she slams her lips to mine and shoves her tongue into my mouth. I growl and devour her lips, and my thumb begins to roll in circles over her clit. I slide a finger down between her lips, and when I find her slick, wet opening, I start to curl it inside. She clings to me, panting and moaning and trembling as I slide my finger deep inside, and my thumb begins to rub her clit back and forth.
Her nails drag down my chest, her tongue dances with mine, and she moans like no woman I’ve ever once heard. Her dewy, eager little pussy floods my fingers with her arousal, and I pump my finger in and out and roll my thumb over her clit. I push her higher, deliberately taking my damn time. I know she’s never done this. It’s beyond obvious that this girl is a virgin in every fucking conceivable way, and thought of being her first in every possible way has my cock throbbing and my balls aching for release.
I curl my finger deeper and rub her clit harder, and Delilah starts to crumble. She moans, and writhes, and rocks against me. Her breath comes faster and more ragged, until suddenly, she pulls away and looks at me with a crumpled face.
“Oh God, Gabriel!”
“Come for me, sweetheart,” I hiss. “Come all over my fingers like a bad girl.”
Her eyes roll back, she drops her head back, and she explodes for me. Her pussy clenches around my finger like a velvet vice, and as she cries out, I can feel her cum flooding my hand. She moans and gasps as her orgasm slams through her like a brick house before she all but collapses into me. I slide my hand from her panties and wrap my arms around her as she sinks against me, limp and panting for air.
And then suddenly, it all goes wrong. Suddenly, she pulls back from my chest, and when she looks up at me, I don’t see lust, or orgasmic bliss. I see horror.
“Oh God,” she breathes. Her face goes white, and suddenly, she’s pushing me away and scrabbling down from the table. She yanks her dress back into place, her shoulders heaving and her lips moving with no words coming out.
“Delilah—”
“No.”
She finally turns to face me, her eyes wide and cheeks devoid of color. She looks petrified, or like she’s just had a near death experience.
…Not exactly the outcome I was looking for in making her come for the first time.
“Delilah—”
“I was wrong,” she breathes, her shoulders still heaving and her eyes blazing into mine.
“About?”
“You are the Devil,” she whispers, backing away from me.
Anger clouds my face, and my eyes narrow.
“Takes two to fucking tango, sweetheart,” I growl.
“This…” she shakes her head. “This isn’t what I came here for.”
“No?” I snap. “Then enlighten me. What did you come here for?”
She swallows, her face pale. “I—I don’t know.”
“Well, when you fucking figure it out,” I growl. “You know where to find me.”
Her lips purse, her eyes narrow at me, and she slowly backs way. “I do, and believe me, I will never be back here again.”
She turns, and she runs.
For a moment, I think about chasing her. I think about following and telling her to stay, and telling her she’s the one pure, good thing I’ve felt in perhaps my entire life. But obviously, I don’t. Instead, I slump into my chair, I reach for my half-bottle of cheap whiskey, and I drink.
I drink until I can’t
remember the sound of her moans, but I don’t ever actually get there.
Chapter Nine
Delilah
“You okay, honey?”
“Hmm?”
I blink and look up from the garden behind our house to see my father standing there looking at me with concern.
“Oh, uh, yep.”
But no, I’m not. Yesterday, I fell into Hell and damnation. Yesterday, I gave in to lust, and the temptations of the flesh, and I let that man—that devil—put his hands on me.
All over me.
On the one hand, I haven’t stopped buzzing since. I’ve felt more alive in the last twenty-four hours than I have in the last eighteen years. I feel… a power, I guess. But while my heart wants to tell me that it’s a good feeling, my soul knows otherwise. I know that “good” feeling in my heart is Satan himself smirking and chortling for tricking me into eternal hellfire.
“Oh, yeah, I’m fine, Papa.”
And now I’m lying to my father. How far I’ve fallen with just one slip. But then, it isn’t just one slip. It’s an entire slippery, sliding, sinful slope.
“You sure?” my father frowns. “You’ve been poking at the dirt around that tomato plant for the last ten minutes.” He smiles. “What’s eatin’ you, Delilah?”
I shrug, and he chuckles.
“C’mon, honey, talk to me. Whatever it is—”
“Have you ever thought one thing about someone, and then found out they’re not what you thought, and been a little disappointed? But then, also you don’t altogether dislike what it is they are, it’s just confusing because it’s not what you thought?”
Papa blinks in surprise.
“Never mind,” I mumble. “Sorry, don’t mind—”
“I haven’t,” he says slowly. “But your mama has.”
I frown. “What?”
“Thought someone was something else, found out they were different, but stuck around to figure that person out.”
I blink in surprise. “Really? Who?”
He grins. “You’re lookin’ at him.”
My brows lift in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that before your mother, I was…” he frowns. “Well, I was another man. And God bless that woman for sticking around long enough to decide she could look past my own troubles and see the man I was capable of being.”