Preacher's Daughter - Flora Ferrari Page 0,9

have to agree sir, and I can only thank you in advance for your daughter’s hospitality. See, my truck broke down yesterday, right out the front of your place and I was only hoping, after sleeping rough last night that I might be able to get some gas, or make a phone call to- Oh, you don’t mind? Well, that’s swell, sir! Sure, I’ll put her back on.”

Noah winks at me, his huge hand covering the headset as he passes it to me, making sure his arm brushes my chest as he does so, making me gasp and shiver.

I sit on a stool by the phone, absently twirling the cord and biting my lip again as I feel my legs open automatically.

Opening wide for Noah who only leans back against the wall, nodding his approval.

If Dad can preach, Noah just might be the devil or my conscience, and right now I know which one I want.

The change in Dad’s voice is like magic as if a few words from Noah himself have changed everything.

That effect he has on me? I think it must be catching because Dad orders me to help Noah out, “Give him whatever he needs, honey. Gosh! I mean, it’s why we’re there isn’t it? To help those in need?”

“Anything he wants.” I hear myself saying, licking my lips now as Noah takes a deep breath in, his eyes running up and down me like I want his hands to, all over me and only stopping long enough at certain points to make them stiffer or wetter.

By the time I hang up, my hands are trembling, I can’t even remember saying goodbye to Dad or when he said he’s coming back.

Noah’s moving closer to me now, so close I can feel his thick legs pushing mine further apart, heat pouring from his body and making me gasp for more of whoever the hell it is he’s carrying.

“Daddy said to-” I start to stammer, but his finger is on my lips.

“I know what he said,” he croons, shifting his finger only long enough to trace some hair back behind my ear.

“Give Noah whatever he needs,” he says slowly, his deep, gravelly voice emphasizing each word as his eyes stray to my chest again, which I know may as well just have ‘fuck me’ written across my stiff nipples.

I want Noah to touch me, more than just with a single finger. I want him to grab me and bend me over the breakfast counter, but he stops as suddenly as he started.

Taking a step back and by now showing me just how turned on he really is, I can make out the whole shape of his thick cock through his jeans, a dark patch right at the tip which makes me groan just from looking at it.

“And right now,” he announces softly, making his way behind the kitchen counter. “I think we both need a little breakfast, you didn’t eat last night, did you?” he scolds me, wagging a finger, but I’m only craning my neck to see over the counter.

Hopelessly fascinated by him and now his body, that huge dick.

The whole man.

I try to shake my head, try to tell him I couldn’t eat, but I know he’s right.

“First we’ll eat. And then? Well. Then we can see about getting Noah whatever he needs,” he says with a curl of his lip.

I lean back against the wall, helpless.

Almost reaching up for something, a shower curtain to grab hold of and pull down, hearing the rings pop off the rail as I feel myself fall under his spell completely.

The man’s just gone and fucked me without even laying more than a single finger on me, the rest is just from his words. From his presence.

From the sight of his glorious body in our kitchen, promising me something I crave, but only after he’s fed me so he knows I’ll be strong enough to take what I know he wants to give me.

That thing I’ve already given him in my mind, in my heart.

I know I’m his now, and it’s no use trying to figure out ways around anyone finding out.

Noah Templeton is a man who knows what he wants.

And for whatever reason, it’s me he wants. Boring old, chubby Faith Holding.

The girl nobody ever even looked at in college unless it was to poke fun at her.

“Anything I can do?” I finally manage after watching him set to work with the efficiency of a professional chef.

“Only eat what I