Preacher Man

by Jessa Kane

The town preacher, Joseph Stark. A man whose very job is to quiet the devil inside his followers, yet he teases Lucifer himself to life inside me. Makes him dance.

Time seems to move in slow motion as Mila’s attention drops to the arousal at the juncture of my thighs and I watch with growing shock as her pupils dilate and she squeezes her legs together. She worries her lower lip between her teeth and looks up at me with worried eyes. “The baptism didn’t work,” she whispers. “I still have the devil inside me, preacher.” A fist tightens around my throat. “Who told you the devil lives inside you?”

“That’s because your body needs mine, little girl. That’s perfectly natural.” A moan leaves Mila and she sways. “I like when you call me that.” I press our foreheads together and peel down the straps of her slip, baring her pretty, pink-tipped tits. Palming them gently. “Little girl.” She shudders almost violently and I have no choice but to snare her mouth in a kiss.

“I’m going to fuck the ache away every day for the rest of your life.”

“I’m going to make you my queen first, Mila. And when we get home, I’ll make you my little princess.”

“I’m the only man who is ever—ever—going to come inside here, do you understand me, little girl?” “Yes, Daddy.”

“Daddy,” she breathes, raking me with her gaze. “You are a bad man.”

“Oh, little Mila,” I growl into her ear. “You’re a very good girl giving this pussy to Daddy. He’s wanted it so bad.” “I’m trying,” she whines, shifting her hips. “It’s so big.” “You don’t have to try. Just keep your legs open and let Daddy have his way.”

“My wife. Mine. Forever and ever.” My upper lip curls. “Amen.”

When it becomes too much, I let out a sob and Daddy puts a hand over my mouth. “Quiet as a mouse, remember?” “Sorry,” I whisper, when he takes his hand away.

“Daddy,” I sob, collapsing on his chest a moment later. “Daddy, I love you.” “I love you, too,” he says gruffly, laying kisses on my hairline. “You are mine. Nothing and no one is ever going to take you away from me.”

My hand rests on my newly swollen belly and nearby, my daughter and son build a castle with buckets and spades, giggling and telling secrets.

“This is where I’ll love you until the end of time, Mila.” Tears sting my eyelids. “I love you, Joseph.” “I love you, too.”

“Ah Jesus, little girl,” he growls, pulling me up against him and dipping his head to suck my nipples one by one into his mouth. “I’ll never get enough. It’s never enough. What you do to me. I think of nothing else. Just Mila. My Mila.”