Preacher's Daughter - Flora Ferrari Page 0,11

sound as forward as I can without using the biological terms.

The words for her soft shape, her wet areas that are pulsing through my mind at a million miles a minute.

I guess I feel a little hesitant myself as well, not because of who I am, but like I just told her, she could have any man in the world eating out of her hand.

I just want to be that man, above all else and I need her to tell me it’s what she wants before I claim what’s rightfully mine.

Faith collects herself, picks up her knife and fork, not blushing now, it’s more a look of someone who has the same feeling I’ve had swelling in my pants since yesterday.

“You’re just pulling my leg,” she says finally. A little resignation in her voice, like she’s convinced herself in her mind of something the complete opposite of what I just spelled out for her.

Or, maybe she’s playing hard to get?

Either way, I can’t tell still if she really wants me or not.

I feel just as confused as she looked a few moments ago. I feel a stab of hurt too.

We both finish eating and I still want more.

More food, more of Faith’s conversation, just more of her in general.

“What’s the real Noah Templeton story then?” she asks, finally breaking an awkward silence.

“I know you said you broke down, right out front here, but what else? Where are you from? What is it exactly you do?” she asks, reminding me again of everything she’s made me forget so easily so far.

I wished I’d met her twenty years ago.

Pushing my plate forward, eyeing the coffee machine, I shrug and blow a long breath out.

“What’s to tell?” I half-wonder out loud. “I thought I made things pretty clear, owning up to breaking down, watching over you all night. My past? What do I do? That’s not something I think I wanna go into right now, because it doesn’t matter,” I tell her firmly but politely.

She looks away. “Because to be honest Faith, it feels like my whole life started last night. Everything that happened before that is just a foggy dream. A bad memory,” I add truthfully.

Glancing at the coffee machine again, she reads my mind and gets up to fix us some, taking my plate along the way.

I try to protest, but she won’t have it.

“You just sit there, mister,” she says with mock seriousness. “You made breakfast, I’ll get the coffee and clean up a little.”

I want to go over to her, to take her in my arms, but I have to content myself with just watching her from behind, moving about the kitchen and giving me short little glances until she’s done.

The more I watch her, the more I notice her starting to unravel.

It’s a little tremor at first, a couple of deep breaths to steady herself, but by the time she’s trying to pour the heavy pot of hot coffee, I notice how bad she’s shaking.

How much she needs it.

“Oh, Noah!” she gasps, almost falling into my arms as I grab ahold of her with one hand and rest the hot coffee on the counter with the other.

“Noah,” she whimpers, her eyes starting to flutter and her legs going out from under her.

“I want you to… I need you to…” she pleads suddenly, begging me to touch her, to kiss, to do something.

My lips over hers drawing a long, deep moan from both of us. Her hands grab at my face then my bulging crotch as she continues to whimper, shivering like she’s about to-

“Oh no, you don’t!” I caution her. “There’s plenty of that coming. You’ll finish when I say you can understand?” I demand, feeling her head bobbing as I kiss her again, harder, letting my hand roam where it wants; right between her legs making it impossible for her to hold on like I just told her to.

I’ve never heard my own name said with such emotion, so full of need.

It’s like a switch inside me flips, making me so hard I feel like bursting myself.

Her weightless body sags into me and although I would have been content with that first kiss, I can tell this is kind of an emergency.

The sounds she’s making, the movement of her shivering body in my arms as she tears at her own clothes, it’s like she’s been possessed.

We both have been, and I realize too that half the sounds I’m hearing are my own.

I have the cure though, I