by V. Theia
If she thought their first kiss had been incredible, then this fresh wet one turned it on its head and made a mockery of that first kiss by being the best damn kiss of her life.
Ruby melted against him.
Bones disappearing, consumed in his kiss, veins exploding blood in a rush of excitement, when Preacher opened his mouth wider he took possession of her, bending her spine with a touch of his fingers, she was fluid, the rugged scent of him filling her to capacity, his lips moving this way and that way, taking everything she had.
His tongue invading like it was meant to be there all this time and Ruby had not known.
Now she did.
Oh, yeah now she did, because she became a little mindless in that lack of oxygen way as he kissed her madly, grunting when she tried to catch a little air he only deepened, delving his tongue across hers and oh his taste... so good. All manly man with a stroke of bourbon as an afternote. Her brain flooded with sex. Thoughts of sex. Want of sex. Needing sex now.
Her clothes seemed to shrink around her, either that or she was having a blood aneurysm.
"Come with me, beautiful." He husked in the form of a question that wasn’t a question, grabbing her hand and because Ruby was lightheaded she followed behind as he pulled her through bodies into a hallway.
"Wait." She tugged her hand free. What the hell was she doing? Is this what she truly wanted? Give me a minute to think. No one was taking any notice of them, too intent on their own enjoyment.
Was she going to do this?
And with Preacher of all men. "Wait," she repeated.
His lips were on hers again, eating at her mouth, sending her dizzy, his hand cupping the full left side of her face, pressing deeply forcing her mouth open, she moaned, grabbed onto his shirt. his kiss proving, she didn't need to think.
"You want this, Ruby. Go with it, we can both have what we want."
Her body spurted so much adrenaline it was a wonder she could keep standing upright.
This was it. Make or break time and for once in her life she chose the selfish door, taking something just for herself even when she knew it was the very baddest thing she should be doing right then especially with a man like Preacher.
She did it anyway. Compelled to, because it was a man like Preacher.
Preacher who had her feeling everything all at once, pounding her system, flooding it. Her expression gave her away, of just how much she wanted him.
By tipping up her head and catching his lips in a dark heated kiss pushing her tongue into his mouth.
She let him drag her the rest of the way wherever he was taking her, stopping every few seconds to kiss, that wicked tongue fucking her mouth in a prelude of what was to come.
"Fuck. You taste incredible," he groaned, sucking her lip.
He tasted like sin.
"Can you make me come, Preacher man?"
He went stiff all over, rearing his head up to stare down. She giggled. A tiny bit tipsy. "Can you? Because I need some guarantees here, I want orgasms, a lot of them, I need them badly, you don't even know, and if you're a two-pump chump then you might as well march back out there and grab one of those sugar bottoms to stick it to. I need it good and I need it right."
"Babe," he sounded stunned, a tick working his thick jaw only served to make his face look more chiseled. Fricking god’s angels made him well, she thought.
"Well? Orgasms, how do we stand on that? I’m going to need an answer. Micro penises need not apply."
Pushed back to a wall so fast the air evaporated on her tongue, just as well since he began sucking hard on it drawing it heavily into his own mouth with the kind of French kissing you get in porn movies, not the pizza boy porn, but the businessman and his horny secretary.
it was hot as hell.
She moaned and grabbed onto his hair until she felt the buttons pop on her skinny jeans a large meaty hand slid right on in and down, past her panties, bypassing the material like it didn't even exist he tugged them aside and stroked her outer labia, checking how shamefully wet her folds were.
Oh, good god.
His kisses were fire and just a little bit nasty.
Shameless, she pushed into those seeking fingers.
The stroking down below took her to another dimension, seriously, she had only been half joking when she'd asked him about the orgasms, she'd seen plenty of satisfied faces stagger out of the bathroom at work to know this man knew how to fuck and to satisfy but there he was with his large hand down her panties in a public hallway grinding his palm to her mound causing tiny flickers of pleasure to ignite in her lower abdomen.
"I think I'm getting the message, Preacher." Was that her panting?
“Good. ‘cause I have a piercing you’re gonna love feeling grinding into you.”
Unable to speak, what with the tongue in her mouth and then he did something...he didn't zero in on her clit as any man would, because that was the magic button, the mothership of heat, the pleasure source itself, the vagina epicenter, he didn't finger fuck her which she would have welcomed because she was wound tight and wanted a hard fuck, a dirty fuck, even a finger fuck, he didn't pet her, no…he began circling his finger right below her clit, she didn't even know a place existed but he stroked and rubbed and a tightening began to happen in her pussy, a true clench, her belly rippled like she was realizing she had muscles in there behind her food sac.
She tilted her pelvis. Seeking. The orgasm rising through her nerve endings, cresting out to all corners, a tsunami of long overdue sensation.
Sweet god, I’m in a hallway about to come harder than … ever before. Dizzying minutes passed by.
"Do you want me?"
Silence sat like a fat overfed cat between them. How to answer it without showing just what true raw effect he held over her. She wanted him more than she should. Walk away, her conscience spoke, open your legs, her vagina overruled. Stupid, greedy vagina.
Ruby didn't like to feel vulnerable, she'd be putting herself out there first, without knowing just how he felt.
"You can say it, beautiful. I'll give you anything you want."
One. Two. Three. Her chest rose and fell, he smiled and waited. "Yes."
"Good." That was it. So, simple. "I want you, too."
"Good." Ruby repeated lamely because she hadn't thought confessing it would be so ... easy and uncomplicated. The matter of a few words and it was done, out there for him to judge or refuse and he hadn't.
Ground to a halt against his mouth, she let him carry on kissing her, pushing her mouth open and licking inside all her body's blood rushed between her thighs as she came so hard so fast her back wanted to break, she bucked fiercely, only he didn’t allow her much movement, his free hand held against her belly, pinning her place to take it, it felt as though every muscle was orgasming at the same time, it didn’t just wave through her, it tackled from behind and rendered her useless for a long minute.
Oh, fuck yes, yes.
It was exquisite, she clung to the front of his shirt crying into his shoulder, harsh groans while the seizure took her.
It wasn’t only coming. She came apart.
When it was over, and she realized she was still alive, she sagged against the wall, eyes closed, mouth open, panting. She needed air. God, where was all the air?
Preacher’s hand removed slowly and for one second she was sure she heard him licking his fingers, her eyes pinged open, a smirk on his face. "I think those drenched panties can be your answer, Ruby." A smile took his face from appealing to downright devilish.
“Yeah. Yeah, they can. God. I need a minute before ----” Kisses robbed her of breath again, the man had just shaken her foundations, her pussy still on lockdown in a series of clenches and he wanted to explore how far he could push her lung capacity for needing the good oxygen. Her hand rubbed his massive chest, heard his smug chuckle. She was going to go to work tomorrow and tell all those waitresses. I get it. I so fucking get it now.
“That’ll do, pig,” she smiled in
an orgasm haze. Eyes felt glazed over. “That’ll do.”
“Did you just call me a pig?”
“Mmhm. Check your movie history, Preacher man, how old are you anyway? It’s a classic. I was praising you.”
Even his laugh turned her to liquid smoke ready to ignite.
It was a chemical reaction between them. A match and gasoline.
And this night was far from over.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“I was so wrong when I thought it would be the best sex of my life. it was so much more, it didn't have words ... just a ruined feeling in my chest. I was ruined." - Ruby.
They fell into his room locked at the lips. Preacher’s hands cradled the back of her head, he pressed her into a wall.
She let go of a pelvis-deep moan.
Intoxicating kisses. She couldn’t get enough. Now that she was in she was all in and twitchy to experience everything Preacher.
Hands went to his shirt, began pulling it out of his jeans, and helped slide his leather cut off massive shoulders, her fingers took the tour over his muscles, along his chest and down.
“Eager, beautiful?”
No point in playing coy. Besides, she sucked at it. “Yes.”
“Good. Really, good. Stand still, baby. Let me take this sexy contraption off you,” he began peeling her shirt up and up until it was tossed onto a chair. Preacher sucked in his breath, the shirt hadn’t allowed for a bra and her girls were also excited to see him.
He palmed both breasts, stroking his thumbs against her nipples. “I’ve waited forever to touch you, Ruby. Fucking forever. Let me enjoy it.”
“Forever? You don’t need to flatter me, Preacher. I’m here with your hands all over my boobs. I’m pretty much a sure thing at this point.” She laughed.
“I mean it.”
Intense eyes held hers, every shade of green hypnotizing her, clearly, she could see he was telling the truth. Belly muscles clenched. She ached unbearably between her legs.
She wanted him. Badly.
A little more kissing, Ruby moaned when he pulled back long before she was ready to give up his tongue.
“Tell me something, tiny dancer. Did you shave your pussy specially for me, ‘cause you knew you were coming here, or you always that bare?”
Shit.
She turned her head away only to have it brought right back in his eye line with his fingers grasping her chin lightly. “That’s what I thought. I like you did it for me, now let me get out of these clothes so I can worship all your slippery fucking bare wetness with my tongue.”
A distinct hardness digging into her ribs.
“Oh, God. Yes.” She began pulling at his belt.
It was going to be anything but polite sex.
Ruby would think long and hard later just how easy it was to shift into such an intimacy with Preacher. It came rapidly, with ease, as if she’d always been that way with him.
In movies, removing clothes is sexy, slow and sensually. The way they ripped into each other she’d have to consider in a while if her clothes were even decent enough to put back on. Fingers clawed at his zipper, but her hands dropped away when he tore his shirt off over his head and she just stood there, mute and staring.
Good god. The man was built with a capital wow.
His torso, as wide as it was, as hard and ribbed as it was, covered every inch in dark ink. Not a hint of color.
Every single fucking inch of skin.
From one sharp angled shoulder to the other, all down his torso and belly and both of his arms, the ink cutting off at the wrists.
Holy. Fucking. Shit. She had a thing for ink.
Amazing. Sure enough, when she circled around him, compelled to check back there as well, his back was the same, no patch of skin left untouched by an artist’s needle, the pattern intricately tangled up in each picture and quote. As she knew any amount of body-art took time, this must have taken weeks and a lot of pain control.
Her fingers reached out tracing over one design that bled into another and so on. Sexy as hell, the ink turned her on. “This is ... Wow. It must have taken a long time.”
“You like ink?” She was busy taking her fingers up along a python that hung off his arm, curling his bicep and ended on his pec, almost as if the head of the beast was in 3D looking at her menacingly. A hungry snapping creature that looked deadly and at home on Preacher’s chest wall.
“I used to dabble in tattooing a while ago until I sold my place. Big Si has it now.”
“That’s who the club uses for our tatts. I didn’t know that used to be yours.” Distracted by his club brand on his spine, the grim reaper brandishing his death scythe. She’d seen the design many times on the biker’s leather vests and jackets, to see it embedded permanently into his skin meant Preacher was in the club for life.
She didn’t know why that made her frown. Probably because she’d never end up with a guy who was deep in a motorcycle club. The club always came first above everything and her anxiety levels could do without the stress of that kind of existence.
He let her explore his upper body, shudders going through him when she leaned forward and sucked on his nipple.
“I would ink you, Preacher. If I could find a patch of skin left to tattoo.”
He let go of a grunt.
Moving as fast as the snake embedded on his skin, lifting her in his arms, he deposited her on the bed, her knees falling open.
A sexy noise from him rippled through her, Ruby leaned up on her elbows and watched him. He moved into her instantly, went down on his knees at the end of the bed. "Tell me how did I not know you had the prettiest fucking pussy, Ruby. Jesus, it’s like a work of art, look at it, hot wet pink inside, all puffy waiting for my mouth. You are, aren't you? Tell me you want me to eat you like dessert right now."
A pulse of heat shook her. "Eat your fill, Preacher man."
He groaned again, licked his lips, eyes between her legs. She had to admit that kind of intense admiration was sexy as hell, she felt wanted.
"Pull your knees up," he growled. "Up, keep going, fuck, perfect. Spread open for me. I hope you can hold that position, I don't rush, I want to savor you, beautiful."
He sucked with all of his mouth. No timid licking for the Preacher. With the position she was in, up and spread out she couldn't really undulate, but her back went soft, bones liquefied as she arched into it, whimpered her consent, for him to keep doing what he was doing and oh, Jesus, he was using his tongue, flicking it around her clit like he was testing out its durability. More! keep going, yes, yes.
A barrage of sensation, a noise of pleasure filled her head. The dirty keening noise was coming from her.
He was going to make her eat her insult about the orgasms by giving her too many until they killed her. Both fists grabbed at the bed. Silently begging.
Preacher drank her in, drained every life crushing thought out of her mind she’d had that week, all that was left was the sound of hot slurping and the way she pleaded to come.
Deep aggressive strokes took her over, no introduction, there was no warning tingle in her legs, it came suddenly and still he didn’t let up, he tongued her so deeply, so hard, his full mouth covering her pussy kissing her intimately she had no choice but to take it, but there was no way her legs could stay in the air, not even with her hands behind her knees, she let them fall to his shoulders, every muscle twitching.
Preacher grunted, rose a little on his haunches with his mouth still attached, freaking skill, she thought, and with his hands on the bed near her hips her legs slid down to rest on his forearms, he pressed them out and out holding her in place so he could lean over her, mouth buried, tongue working overtime.
Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, fucking yeah right there, god yes.
He needed awards for giving head. Seriously. Oh god. Already she was rushing forward to grab her third orgasm in a matter of minutes, not even with her rabbit vibrator set on stun mode did she come this fast this hard and in quick continuation, she usually
needed a rest and a bowl of cereal and maybe an episode of Lucifer before she attempted a third. Even then it was rare.
“Preacher…”
“Take it,” he demanded, sending vibrations through her already sensitive vagina, she reached between them, fisted shaken fingers into his hair and moved her hips back and forth on his wet mouth, she could hear the wet sounds, she should be ashamed to know all that sopping mess was coming from her, but she couldn’t, it only turned her on more, to see him lapping at her clit like a greedy monster, like her taste was the only thing he had ever wanted in his life.
“Give me it.” Popping her pelvis. “Like that. Yeah… god. Feels good ... don’t stop.”
“Not until I’ve got you good and nasty, baby. Until my face is soaked in your juices.”
He took his time, too much damn time because by the end, by that long torturous end when Preacher finally emerged to face level again, his lips wet, his eyes dark and gorgeous, Ruby was in no doubt he found her beautiful ---sexy even--- he'd worshipped every inch of her body in the slowest possible means even as she whimpered and begged, he'd revered her body.
She was a clenching mess, submerged in the sensation like a hedonist's wettest dream.
While Ruby came down from the best orgasm in what, ten minutes? Jesus. Her legs shook, she lay back on the bed panting like she’d been running, wallowing and letting her eyes roam, coming down from the dynamite pleasure.
The room was moderately plain, she watched him rise, kick off his boots and began the popping of his jeans buttons. His room was for hot nasty hook-ups.
Oh shit, her belly curled watching his fingers go to his belt, pulling it through the loops, next was the row of buttons, long tapered tattooed fingers and short nails, beautiful hands for a rough man, she was not missing the Preacher man unveiling. Head propped on a hand she gave him a saucy little wolf whistle.
“Work it. Work it, baby. Own it.”