Can a preacher’s daughter find love with a reformed criminal?

Serenity Morgan is known in Grover Town as the devout preacher’s daughter. She teaches the children in Sunday school and spends most of her days being an assistant to her papa at church. It has been a long-standing joke among family and friends that the only way Serenity would ever get married is if a man popped out of the Good Book. Then a new arrival shows up and she begins to feel things she’s never experienced before.

Dustin “Preacher” Jonas, a transformed ruffian, is a minister in training and has come to town to study with the pastor. He was taught to believe a successful preacher needs the perfect wife by his side. When he meets Serenity, being virtuous is the last thing he thinks about. The blonde beauty tempts him to step back to his wild side. If a woman can be both humble and stubborn, then Serenity fits the bill, and warming her backside may be the only way to get her attention.

A marriage between the two of them should be made in Heaven. But, Dustin’s desire to show his wife that being bad can be just as good may have her on the run.

Publisher’s Note: This historical romance contains sexual scenes and a theme of power exchange.

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Excerpt

“Lower your breasts to the table, Serenity, and this sweet backend up real proper like for me.”

 As soon as her body had assumed the desired position, the first strike came.

Smack.

“Count them out. Or I’ll keep going until you do.”

“One.” The sting had her rolling her lips inward.

The next one came right behind her next breath.

“Two.”

For Dustin, there was never any slow build up, each slap was hard, steady, and distinct. Each time his hand contacted one of her cheeks, the pain reverberated from that point through her core and into her clit.

One after another, they kept coming, alternating from one cheek to the other, from the center to below the curve to the tender flesh.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

She counted. “Three. Four. Five.”

Smack. Smack. Smack.

“Six. Seven. Eight.”

“Your ass is a bright as a ripe spring tomato.”

Smack. Smack. Smack.

“Nine. Ten. Eleven.”

Her body was shaking, her fingers digging into the wood, and she was pressing her forehead to the table, trying to hold back. Her bottom was on fire now and her core felt like a kaleidoscope of sensations were swirling inside of her. She wanted to plead with him to stop, scream at him to hit harder, and urge him to just take her.

“Oh, if you could see how you cream.” His voice was raspy, filled with awe. “I want to lick your pussy, get that stiff clit in my mouth.”

His words weren’t making things easier for her.

Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.

“Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen.”

She was up on her toes now, her hands gripping the other edge of the table, and her body vibrated with need. Nothing that was going through her mind made sense anymore. She wasn’t even sure if the numbers she was calling out were right or wrong. It was possible that she was even reciting them backwards.

“You’re so wet, angel, you’re dripping.”

Smack. Smack.

Then it happened—she was coming. There was no counting. No speaking. Nothing but orgasmic screams for her.

But Dustin didn’t stop. Even as she came apart, he continued spanking her flesh. He picked up the counting as she rode her delicious high.