Page 30 of Preacher

“Love the way you do that.” His teeth scraped the sensitive peak. “Again.”

I shoved at his shoulders instead, He went willingly, sprawling back against the sheets, amber eyes burning as I crawled down his body. My lips trailed over the dips and ridges of his stomach, feeling the way his muscles jumped, his breath hitching when I nipped at his hipbone.

“Where the hell—” His voice broke as my fingers hooked into his sweats.

“Up.” I yanked them down, and his cock slapped his stomach, thick and flushed, the tip already wet. My mouth watered.

“Trent.” His hand found my hair, not guiding, just holding on. “Your jaw—”

His dick was heavy in my hand, flushed dark. I cut him off with my tongue, licking his cock from root to tip, savoring the salt and musk. His hips jerked when I took his cock into my mouth, a strangled sound tearing from his throat.

“Thought you didn’t whimper.” I pulled back just enough to speak and possibly to breathe. Then I swallowed him deeper, inch by inch, using my hand to detract the inches I couldn’t take. I had a lot to work with.

“Motherfuck.” His fingers tightened, hips lifting just enough to hit the back of my throat. “Your mouth—”

I hollowed my cheeks, tongue pressing flat against the underside of his cock as I took him deeper. My hand worked the base, thumb tracing the thick vein pulsing there. His hips jerked, a broken word escaping his lips, half curse, half plea.

“Trent—” His voice was wrecked, the warning clear.

I pulled off with a wet sound, saliva stringing between my lips and his cock. His eyes were nearly black, pupils blown wide, only a sliver of amber left. “Want to hear it again.” Looking up at him through my lashes, I licked my lips. “That sound you make when you’re trying not to beg.”

“You’re a menace.” His breath hitched as I swirled my tongue around the head, lapping at the bead of salt there. “Fuck.”

“And you love it.” I grinned as I crawled back up his body. When I kissed him, he groaned into my mouth, tasting himself on my tongue.

His hands were everywhere—skimming my sides, digging into my hips, yanking at my jeans. He flipped us, pinning me beneath him. His weight pressed me into the mattress, his cock grinding against mine through the rough denim. I arched up, nails raking down his back, and he groaned into my throat.

“Clothes. Off.” He sat back on his heels, yanking my belt free with a sharp snap. The zipper rasped as he dragged it down, then my jeans and underwear were gone, peeled off in one rough motion.

Cool air hit my skin, making me shiver. His eyes raked over me, and I fought the urge to cover myself.

“Don’t.” His voice was a low growl. “You’re fucking perfect.”

Then his mouth was on my cock, taking me deep without warning. My back arched off the bed, a broken sound spilling out. His tongue swept around the head of my dick, teasing the sensitive underside, while his hand rolled my balls, fingers pressing just hard enough to make me gasp.

“Oh fuck. Preacher!” My hands scrambled, fingers gripping his shoulders. His beard scraped against my thighs, the sensation almost too much. “I’m almost—”

His mouth worked my cock, tongue and lips and the occasional scrape of teeth. My hips bucked, chasing the sensation, and he let me, his fingers digging into my thighs to keep me still.

“Please.” The word was a whimper, a plea, something I’d never let myself say before. His eyes flicked up, dark and hungry, and the sight of him, beard glistening, lips stretched around my cock, nearly undid me.

Preacher’s tongue swirled, cheeks hollowing. The moan that vibrated up my shaft was obscene—deep, guttural, like he was tasting something sacred. The sensation was so intense my vision whited out for a second.

My hips jerked, but his hands clamped down on my trembling thighs, holding me in place. His eyes locked onto mine, hungry, possessive, as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked hard enough to make my toes curl.

He pulled off just enough to speak, lips swollen, chin glistening. His ragged breath ghosted over my spit-slicked skin. “Don’t come yet,” he groaned. “I want to fuck you while you cum.”

Preacher’s cock stood thick and flushed as he sat back, the tip glistening, a bead of pre-cum welling and dripping down the shaft. I reached for him on instinct, but he caught my wrist, shaking his head. “Playtime is over.”

He grabbed the lube, slicking his fingers with slow strokes, his gaze never leaving mine.

“God, you look fucking incredible.” He loomed over me, eyes dark. “Lying here, waiting for me. Spread your legs.”

Slick fingers circled my hole, teasing, pressing without pushing in, until I was squirming against his hand.

“Stop fucking around,” I gritted out.

He chuckled darkly. “Wanted to see you desperate for my dick.”