Preacher's daughter(Elias Moore)
Paring: Elias 'Stack' Moore x Girlfriend!Reader
Summary: the daughter of a Baptist preacher is secretly running around and dating the famous Elias 'stack' Moore. They met due to her father running an integrated church. Her father would die and go right to heaven if he found out what his "pure" daughter was doing with Elias - not because the differences in race, but because Elias had been the one to corrupt his innocent little girl.
Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, slight corruption kink, reader is a specific race for plot purposes, oral(F receiving), blasphemy, rough - ish sex, dirty talk, religion, forbidden love, secret relationship, slight choking.
MasterList ML2
The Delta settled into the kind of summer evening that carried the smell of warm earth and river water. Cicadas screamed from the trees, and the last streaks of orange faded behind the cotton fields. Elias "Stack" Moore leaned one elbow out the window of Elijah's borrowed Ford, a crooked grin pulling at his mouth as gravel crunched beneath the tires.
“Don't scratch my car” Smoke had warned.
Stack had answered with nothing more than a laugh. The truth was, he hadn't borrowed it for a joyride - not really. It had been seven long days. Seven days since he'd seen her smile. Seven days since he'd heard her laugh. Seven days was entirely too long.
Word traveled quickly through the neighborhoods of the Delta. By supper, somebody had mentioned pastor Bailey was leading a week-long revival in Tennessee. Elias didn't need to hear another word. It would certainly be rude to leave a young girl all by her lonesome for a week - now, wouldn't it? The smug basterd even couldn't stop himself from grinning as he zoomed past the little white church - “if only that preacher knew”
If only the preacher knew the man that singlehandedly corrupted his precious, sweet little girl, set in his pews every Sunday. Elias didn’t believe in sin - at least not the kind he preached about from the pulpit. He believed in the curve of a woman’s waist, the taste of cheap whiskey, and the thrill of doing exactly what he wasn't supposed to do.
Pastor Bailey was no fool, but there were things he didn't know - maybe that was for the best. The widowed pastor had arrived from Baltimore with his daughter years earlier with ideas that most folks around the Delta called dangerous. He preached that every soul stood equal before God. Black, white, poor, or rich. - It didn't matter. He believed that we were all gonna live together in peace when we got to heaven, so might as well learn together too.
His congregation reflected it too. People whispered and others threatened. The Klan certainly hadn't appreciated the message and above all the pastor possessed two qualities in abundance - faith and absolutely no fear. Everybody knew the bible on his desk was there to save anyone's soul if willing. They also knew the loaded shotgun within arm's reach was there to protect his congregation. His belief in the 2nd amendment was just as strong as the Klan’s twisted and disgusting mindset.
Smoke respected a man who practiced what he preached, especially when that preaching came backed by equal measures of scripture and shotgun steel. Pastor Bailey was a dangerous kind of holy man - soft-spoken, gentle-hearted, but with a spine of pure iron. He protected his flock like a mother bear, willing to trade scripture verses with bullets if necessary.
Truth be told, Elijah and Elias only started attending because Annie insisted. “Boy,” she'd told both twins, “the Lord's been good to you whether you admit it or not”
Elias had rolled his eyes the entire first service - hell, he would have fallen asleep if Annie hadn't smacked that flashly fedora off his thick skull. But he had remembered every second of that day anyway. The preacher had been halfway through a sermon about judgment when Elais' attention drifted.
Not to the pulpit, but to the second pew closet to the front - she was sitting beside Grace Chow of all people. She had that pink bible opened to Revelations like a good little girl.
She looked like an angel, her profile soft and innocent, simple pale blue dress and her hair pinned back. She listened like every word her father spoke mattered. Then she looked up and caught him staring. Before his brain could catch up with his mouth, Elias gave the most flirtatious wink he'd ever given to any woman. And instead of looking offended she'd blushed - actually blushed and gave him the cutest smile he'd ever seen. And that smile hadn't left him ever since.
If only the preacher knew Elias Moore had singlehandedly corrupted his daughter - Took her. virginity inside that very church no less.
The memory of it still made him grin like a fool - that stolen hour between Wednesday night Bible study and the late service, when he'd backed her against the choir loft the day she wore that prim little dress. He didn’t believe in blasphemies or purities, but he believed in the way her legs had wrapped around his waist and the way she’d bitten his shoulder to hold back her cries.
Goddamn, that girl had learned fast. He'd taught her how to touch him, how to take him deep, how to ride him until they were both shaking and desperate. She had learned that the things her daddy preached about as sinful - greed, gluttony, lust - felt an awful lot like heaven when Elias was the one administering them. He’d taught her where to press her fingers to make her back arch and that being a "good girl" didn't mean being silent.
The thought alone was enough to make Elias shift in his seat as he navigated the winding roads. Dust swirled around the crimson car as he pulled up to the Bailey house. The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of purple and gold. He killed the engine and sat for a moment, running his thumb over his bottom lip as he stared at the front door.
That house was the definition of wholesome. The porch was swept clean, lace curtains in the windows, and a swing rocking gently in the evening breeze. It was the home of a God-fearing man and his beloved daughter, the absolute sanctuary of Southern propriety.
It was also the residence of Elias' personal addiction. He climbed out of the car and quietly shut the door. There was only a lamp glowing in the window. He stepped onto the porch and gave the screen door the gentlest knock he could manage. He heard the floorboards creak inside. His heart did that annoying little stutter it always did around this house, like some kind of twisted religious experience. He adjusted his collar - damn thing feeling too tight suddenly - and ran a hand over his jaw. He'd washed up. Smelled like Bay Rum cologne instead of the usual cigarette and Irish beer.
A moment later the door opened just enough for one bright e/c eye to peek through. “Elias” the whole door swung wide and her arms were around his neck. The sweetest greetings he's ever received. Not even Smoke was ever that happy to see him - and they were twins.
Elias caught her smoothly, one hand splaying out across her lower back as he pulled her flush against him. “Well, hell,” he murmured softly, nuzzling into her neck without a single care - thank the lord she didn't have neighbors. “Miss me, Baby?”
“course,” Y/n pulled back, but didn't break the connection. Her tiny hands curled into that burgundy vest that framed his body so well. “thought you gone and forgotten about me”
“Never happen, sweetheart.” Elias caught her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger. His expression was shamelessly soft - a side of him absolutely nobody else got to see. Not Smoke, not Sammie, not Annie. Just her. “A man doesn't forget his obsession”
That word made her shiver - she liked being Elias' obsession. She liked being the only person who could make Elias Moore act like a lovesick fool, the only person who could make him knock politely instead of just letting himself in. She was the reason he washed the whiskey off his breath and ironed his shirt.
“Missed you,” she said and looked up at him with those sweet eyes like he hasn't ruined her billion times over. “You really drove all this way just to see me?”
“Every Mile,” Elias said, dipping his head to the side and pressing a soft kiss to her neck before slipping his hands into his pockets. He leaned against the doorframe casually, trying to play it cool - like he wasn't halfway across town to spend one night with her. “Your daddy leave?”
“this mornin' for Tennessee,” she smiled as those sweet little eyes took a quick scan up and down his body. It's scary to think how her mind works like his now.
His suit jacket was long gone and he was wearing that pale red dress shirt and burgundy suit vest over that muscular chest of his. He still had that red tie tucked in behind it, but it was loose at his neck. “He'll be gone all week” she said as her slim fingers loosely gripped his tie and pulled him closer by it.
He let her reel him in without an ounce of resistance, stepping across that sacred threshold like he owned the place. Her little hand fisted in his silk tie was the only leash he’d ever accept. “A whole week,” he murmured, smirking down at her. “Lord have mercy on my soul”
“Guess we'll be praying for forgiveness Sunday” she smirked.
“Don't hold your breath, baby,” Elias laughed low in his throat, moving his hands to grip her waist and kick the front door shut with his heel. The sound of the latch clicking felt heavier than a gavel strike. “If the Good Lord heard the things I’m planning to do to you all week, he’d strike me dead before I even made it to the amen”
Her fingers traced a slow, deliberate path along his jaw, feeling the rough scratch of stubble - he hadn't shaved this morning. “Would you die happy?” She stared up at him with that sweetness that usually made him want to ruin her something fierce.
“Die happy? Baby, if I died with your name on my lips, I'd be the happiest sinner to ever cross that river” His hands tightened on her waist, lifting her effortlessly to sit on the dining room table. He stepped between her thighs, leaning down so his lips brushed against hers.
He kissed her slowly, reverently, treating that innocent mouth like the most holy thing in existence. The contradiction was lethal - a man dressed in expensive suits and danger, absolutely worshiping the preacher's daughter. His hands slid up her thighs under her skirt, ruining her decency before they even started. “My good girl,” He murmured against her mouth. “My sweet, wicked girl”
She sighed into his mouth, wrapping her legs around his waist to drag him impossibly closer. The heat of his big palms against her inner thighs was enough to make her head spin, completely bypassing any Sunday school lesson she’d ever learned. “Elias” she shuddered, fingers curling into his vest.
Elias tilted his head and deepened the kiss, tongue sliding against hers with that practiced, sinful skill that made her toes curl. He kissed her like a man starving, like a man who would burn the whole damn town to the ground if it meant he could keep tasting her.
His hands were already working their magic, sliding under her skirt with zero hesitation, thumbs hooking into the waistband of her panties. He wanted them gone. He wanted her bare and spread for him on this very table where her daddy said grace. The blasphemy of it made his cock throb painfully against his slacks.
“P-please... Elias” y/n said softly - begging.
There was something devastatingly beautiful about the preacher's daughter begging for sin right in the center of her father's dining room. “Shh, baby,” He soothed against your neck, hand sliding down to grip your thighs possessively. “Just let me take care of you, alright?” He whispered as he dropped to his knees between your thighs.
Elias hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, slowly dragging them down her legs and pressing a reverent kiss to the inside of her thigh as he tossed them aside onto the pristine rug. He looked up at her from his knees, resting his chin against her inner thigh, eyes dark and worshipful. “Open up for me, sweetheart”
It was the ultimate surrender - a sweet, innocent girl parting her legs for sin itself. Y/n leaned back on her hands, spreading her thighs obediently, exposing herself completely. Her daddy would have a coronary seeing his daughter bare on the table like this. Elias looked up at her like she was the altar and he was the man meant to worship.
“E-Elias”
“I know, baby,” He murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her inner thigh. “I know” His hands slid up her legs, spreading her wider as he leaned in and pressed his mouth against her center. The first lick was slow and deliberate, savoring the taste of heaven. His stubble grazed her sensitive skin, making her head tilt back as she let out pleasurable whine.
The sound made his cock twitch hard against his slacks - preacher's daughter whimpering like a sinner in his mouth. He used his thumbs to spread her open wider, exposing every delicate fold like he was studying scripture. His tongue dipped low first, tracing her perimeter before teasing the slit. He wasn't rushing. Never rushed with her. Every moan she gave was earned.
“Elias,” y/n shuddered, her hips arching as her fists curled into the collar of his shirt. “D-don't stop... Please don't stop”
Like he could ever stop once he had her taste on his tongue. Like he wouldn't burn in hell happily if it meant he could eat this sweet pussy all day. He groaned against her, the vibration making her gasp his name in prayer. He flattened his tongue and licked her slowly, thoroughly, worshipping her clit like a holy sacrament. Her legs shook helplessly, those pretty thighs trembling against his ears. This was his church, his altar, his religion - burying his face between the preacher's daughter's legs. He sucked gently, drawing a high, broken whine from her throat as her hips arched desperately and utterly ruined.
The vibrations of his groans hit her clit directly and made her back arch off the table. Stubborn little thing - she was already close and he could taste it, sweetening rapidly. His tongue worked her with the patience of a man who had nothing but time, nothing but this week to worship at her altar.
“I need to come,” y/n begged desperately. “P-please, I'm so close, Elias”
“Then come, baby” He could feel her tightening, her walls fluttering around his tongue as he pushed it deep inside her, fucking her with his mouth while his thumbs pressed against her clit. Preacher's daughter came apart like shattered glass, beautiful and desperate. He caught every tremor, every gasp, every moan that wasn't for God but for him.
He sat back on his knees, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning smugly as he watched her catch her breath. She looked utterly debauched - hair messed up, skirt hiked up, face flushed, mouth parted. He kissed her inner thighs gently before standing up between her spread legs. He unbuttoned his vest slowly, giving her access to his shirt buttons. “Unbutton me” he commanded softly.
Her fingers shook slightly as she obeyed, unbuttoning his shirt with trembling hands. He helped her push the fabric off his shoulders, revealing his chest - hard muscles, beautiful dark skin, and the faint scars that told stories that he could never bring himself to tell her.
But she traced every scar unconsciously - one across his ribs, another near his collarbone. Each one a testament to a life she'd never fully understood, but craved. He watched her face, letting her memorize every inch as his chest heaved slightly. Her fingers traced down to the V-line of his torso dipping into his slacks.
“B-bedroom,” her voice was breathlessly soft - desperate. Her soft gaze met him. “please”
He didn't need to be told twice. The way she looked at him - needy, desperate, wanting him like he was her personal salvation - made his cock ache. He gathered her up effortlessly, carrying her bridal style through her daddy's house. Up the stairs, past the family photos, past the Bible verses framed on walls, and into her bedroom.
Her room was exactly how he remembered - soft pink walls, lace curtains, smell of rose and mint - her daddy would be proud. His cock throbbed as he set her down on her bed, taking in the pretty details. Like the Bible on her nightstand with flowers pressed between pages and the teddy bear that rested against the bed frame.
“Elias...” y/n whispered. “P-please. Make love me, ruin me”
Those words - fuck. Something dark and possessive swelled in his chest at the vulnerability in her voice. This good girl wanted him to mark her up, wanted her daddy's perfect daughter fucked senseless in her bed.
“I always do” He murmured as his belt hit the floor with a clatter before kicking his slacks off, followed by his boxers, leaving him bare and heavy, his cock flushed and hard against his stomach. He crawled over her, palms on either side of her head. He lowered himself to press a heated kiss against her throat, right over her frantically beating pulse. Then he reached behind her back, finding the zipper of her dress and dragging it down with agonizing slowness. The fabric fell away, leaving her bare on her soft sheets. Only thing left was the small golden cross necklace resting between her breasts. He hovered over her, his cock throbbing against her stomach, trapping her in his shadow.
“Spread your legs, baby” He murmured against her neck, his voice rough with desire.
He watched her obey, his eyes darkened as he took in the sight - soft thighs parted, pink pussy glistening with arousal, innocent body ready for his sinful touch. He reached down, gripping his cock and rubbing the head against her wet folds, teasing her entrance.
“Elias, P-please!” she whined.
“Shh, baby... I got you” He whispered, pressing a kiss to her lips as he slowly pushed inside her. Her walls clenched around him immediately - tight, hot, perfect. He groaned into her mouth as he filled her inch by inch until he was seated deep inside. “Fuck…”
“Oh, God. Don't ever stop” She moaned, biting her lip as her nails made little crescents into his back. He started to move slowly, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back in deeply, grinding his hips against her clit. He watched her face, committing every soft whimper, every flutter of her eyelashes to memory.
“I'll fuck you every day until your father finds out. Until he knows his precious daughter is taking a black man's cock like a whore” Elias snapped his hips this time, his body slamming hers with increased ferocity.
The blasphemy of it made her gasp - his words were filthy, wrong, sinful. But her body betrayed her, clenching harder around him. He hit that spot inside her that made her toes curl, grinding against it deliberately.
“And you know what he'll say, huh?” He fucked her faster now, making the bed creak. “He'll say, 'My babygirl is lost - she's fuckin’ the devil.' And you know what I'll say?” He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear.
“I'll tell him his daughter found a better salvation,” He slammed into her particularly hard, making her cry out his name. His hand wrapped around her throat - not squeezing, just holding, claiming. “A salvation that actually satisfies her. I'll make you scream my name instead of praying to heaven”
His cock hit that spot again, making her vision blur. He angled his hips to grind ruthlessly against that spot, watching her eyes roll back. Her pussy fluttered violently around him, sucking him in deeper. “Only thing listenin’ to you is me,” He moved faster, driving into her with sinful precision, ruining her for anyone else. “Who makes you feel this good?”
“You!” she choked out, her back arching violently off the mattress as her nails clawed down his back. “feels so good”
The bed creaked and moaned in protest as he hiked her thigh higher up his hip and fucked her harder, unable to hold back anymore. He was defiling the pastor's baby girl in her own bed, using her body to worship at his own personal altar of lust. “Come for me, baby” He demanded hoarsely, grinding against her clit.
He rolled his hips sharply against that sensitive spot inside her, forcing the orgasm out of her violently. Her entire body seized, back bowing off the mattress as she screamed his name, her walls clamping down around him like a vice. He fucked her through it, whispering filthy praises, ruining her completely on her floral sheets.
Elias groaned as her tight heat milked him, triggering his own release. He swiftly pulled out, emptying his load all over her plush thighs with a guttural curse that would make her father faint. He collapsed over her, both of them panting heavily, his sweaty forehead pressed against hers. “That's my good girl”
Her chest heaved, heart hammering against her ribs. She was ruined - absolutely ruined. Her father's daughter, coming on a sinner while her Bible sat five inches from her hand. She looked at Elias - sweat glistening on his dark skin, cock still half-hard and leaking onto her thighs, looking like the devil himself.
He leaned down, capturing her swollen lips in a messy, dirty kiss, stealing the air right from her lungs. He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers, his dark eyes boring into hers - possessive, unrepentant. “God ain't watching you now, baby,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the cross around her neck. “I am”
“will you protect me always?” she whispered.
“Until my dying breath,” He swore without hesitation. “I’ll worship you, and kill anyone who ever touches you.” He brushed her nose with his. “You’re mine, baby. Not God’s. Mine”
He pulled away to look at her, his gaze softening as he took in her flushed face and sated body. He slowly cleaned her up with the handkerchief he kept in his pocket, wiping away the evidence of their release. When he was done, he pulled her into his arms, holding her against his chest as he lay back on the twin sized bed that was barely big enough for the both of them.
His hand rubbed circles on her back. He felt like a criminal in a sanctuary - his very presence a blasphemy against everything in this room. Yet he couldn't deny the weight of her body against his. This woman. This girl who should've been praying to a God and not a man like him. And somehow - some way - she loved him.