Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
“We’re almost to the White House, angel,” the president pants in my ear, his hands tight on my bare bottom, drawing me rhythmically toward his lap, his thick shaft parting the damp flesh of my sex and stretching me, my thighs and butt flexing once I’ve completely swallowed him inside my entrance, holding the top of the leather seat on which he sits so I can grind like a good girl for my Daddy, watching his eyes roll into the back of his head. “Fuck, that’s so good. Right to the motherfucking balls. I can’t figure out how you get all of me in that tight little thing and I don’t care. Just keep doing it. Goddamn.” His head drops back on a full-body groan that I feel all the way in the tips of my ears. “I’m right on the edge and…Jesus, they’re going to open these doors in a minute, little girl. Are you close?”
“I’m always close with you,” I whisper, lapping at the side of his face, his ear, employing the tricks I learned since last night and cinching up my pussy muscles and riding in quicker bucks, gasping against his mouth while I rub my clit on his slippery length, the tension in his frame building as he gets closer and closer to release, a telltale sign I’ve memorized since last night, along with him starting to choke on his breath, his erection growing impossibly huge inside of me, so huge I can barely take it at the end and he seems to love when I complain about that. “It’s so big,” I whimper. “I think it’s going to bust soon.”
“You’re giving me no choice,” he says through his teeth.
“It’s getting so hard to squeeze it in, sir, but I won’t stop.” I contract my inner walls and bounce a few times, my butt smacking off his thighs, and his hips lift off the seat, his face contorting with pleasure/pain.
“Oh God. Oh my God, it hurts to be this hard,” he grits out. “Make it stop.”
“Yes, Mr. President,” I purr, rubbing our lips together, teasing him with light kisses while my lower body rolls furiously. “I serve you so you can serve the country, don’t I?”
He shudders, his head falling back, urging me to hump faster and I do so, to please my president and myself in the process, the White House outside looming in the window, growing larger, my knees sliding open farther on the seat so he can come as deeply as he deserves and I can bury my face in his neck and give my clit the pressure it needs to unleash the unmitigated bliss in my system. The kind only Pierce can give me.
My inner thighs begin a prolonged spasm, breathless titillation radiating from that button of flesh that he serves so mightily, so perfectly, and my hands lift automatically to my breasts, cupping and fondling them in the open neckline of my shirt, pinching and plucking at my nipples to speed up the climax hovering around the edges of my reality—and it comes blowing in on all sides, turning me mindless in the president’s lap, working my hips in a shameless rut, my orgasm blooming when he looks at me with pure worship, and jerks, his jaw dropping as his warmth spreads inside of me, our fluids joining, pooling, collecting while we both jolt and shake, gasping against one another’s mouths.
The SUV rolls to a stop, and though I’m drowsy from our intense lovemaking, I climb off the president’s lap and fix my clothing as quickly as possible, straightening his tie while he zips himself back into his pants, using his pocket square to mop to sweat from his face and back of his neck.
“My God, Eloise,” he says in a gravelly voice, his hand curving around the back of my neck to draw me close, searching my eyes with our foreheads pressed together. “How am I supposed to cope with my fucking obsession with you and run a country at the same time?”
“I’m supposed to be making it easier to focus on running the country,” I point out, worry creeping into my breast and lodging there. “Not harder.”
He huffs a laugh, strokes a hand down the back of my hair. “There’s a crisis taking place overseas and all I can think about is whether or not they’ve moved your things into my rooms yet.” He kisses me hard, a touch of madness lighting his eyes. “I need you safe and protected in the White House, Eloise. Maybe I’m being too possessive—”
“You’re allowed,” I whisper, my chest fluttering happily. “And…I like it.”
Studying me, he nods, that light of madness glowing brighter. Brighter. “I want to know your movements. I want an army of agents keeping every other man at a distance, so I can think straight. I want it understood that you sleep in my fucking bed and that I could require you in the Oval Office at a moment’s notice with your panties off. I want to run this country with you side by side, doing good. Both of us making a difference, like we’ve always dreamed about. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”