Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 110458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
"Dumb it down, McD. Like I’m in kindergarten."
"I'm not the king. That's the dumbed down." He grins, looking amused. "I'm the messenger. At best."
"Because you're flawed, right? Isn't that the way it goes?"
"I don't think you heard that from me." He gives me an o-lipped look.
Now it's my turn to give him a cheeky grin. "You imply that. I've been listening to you even more than I used to back when I was your stalker. On YouTube."
"The emphasis is—well it should be—less on how we're flawed. And more on how God and His love are perfect."
"Love is where it’s at,” I agree.
He leans up and nips at my jaw. "What a bad, bad student...Mr. Rayne. I can see your eyes glaze over right now. What are you doing when you watch me on YouTube?"
I laugh. I told him before when we were apart that I used to jerk it to his sermons.
“Guess you’re right.” I cup his jaw. "What might help me, Pastor McDowell?"
"Getting you to pay attention?" Sky laughs, looking like an arrogant ass. "Probably nothing. Maybe only one solution here."
He grins, and my dick twitches in my pants. "What's that, sensei?"
He drapes his palm over my cock, rubbing as his forehead comes to mine. "I think you need to be punished."
Luke
God bless the future Mr. Vance Rayne McDowell. He knows me better than anybody ever has. So he knows just what I need.
He shifts his hips away from my hand and stretches out on his stomach on the little bed, cupping himself with his hand. "Nahh. No punishment for me.” He shifts, making his ass pop. “I'm so tired, I think I might just go to sleep right here. Let the waves lull me the way they do."
I grin. He's not kidding. If he's even a little tired, a rocking boat will put Rayne to sleep. I reach between his legs and rub my fingertips over his balls, which feel puffy through the fabric of the olive cargo pants he wore to the church today. I push the base of my palm against them, making his hips shift.
“You wear yourself out today?"
I reach under him, so I can grip the base of his cock, pumping up and down until he groans and he says, "Yeah." His voice is nice and throaty. "I could go to sleep." He rolls over, cupping himself as he looks at me with bedroom eyes. "But I’m such a bad guy. A dirty, uneducated, unreligious—"
I lean down and bite his lower lip. "Don't be saying things like that about my husband." I give him a deep, hot kiss, rubbing against his leg like a dog in heat and smiling as I do. "I've got the best damn man there is. He's not uneducated, and I'm not sure I believe he's unreligious either." I rub my hand over his dick, which is tenting his pants, and he grunts softly. "Either way, there's no one better."
"Even said a swear word," he pants, his words slurring slightly as I stroke his hard cock.
"Even said a swear word." I smirk.
I take down his pants and free his dick from his boxer-briefs. Then, despite my talk about how he needs punishing, I find myself between his legs. "I want to blow you so bad."
He chuckles, low, like he's surprised, and folds his arm behind his head. "That right, preacher?"
"That's right, artist." I rub my scratchy cheek against the inside of his leg, moving up toward his sac, which hangs swollen and heavy. I lap lightly at it. "Been thinking about this all day,” I whisper against his skin. “Nearly killed me not coming and taking what's mine."
"Yours..." He's breathing harder as his fingers thread through my hair.
"Oh, yes. Tomorrow you'll wear that ring so no one doubts it."
"I want to," he says, and he moans as I suck one of his balls into my mouth. He groans again, his backside coming off the mattress. "Shit, that's so good."
"Good like this?" I suck his cock into my mouth and take him deep.
This is how I say ‘sorry’ for missing lunch...for not coming down to his new atrium and taking him to some closet and showing him how much I love him. This is how I apologize—even a little—for not wearing my ring today. I’m sure he looked at my hand before deciding to leave his at the house, and if that's not Vance then I don't know what is. I never even talked about it with him prior to this morning, but he's not upset about it. He just wants my happiness, and that makes me want his more than anything I've ever wanted before.
I suck him good, and rub my thumb over the spot behind his balls, prodding his prostate from the outside, and Vance pants and groans and grunts and thrusts against my hand. Then, when he's near whimpering from wanting to come, and I can taste his precum when I swallow—and when my swallow makes his body jolt—I move my mouth off him and say, "Turn over."