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)
“I had to leave.” I lean on the edge of the desk. It’s that or collapse under the strain of seeing him, but not touching. “We were going to attract all the wrong attention.”
“That’s the risk I’m more than prepared to take to have you.” He has almost reached me now, his fingers flexing at his sides, his eyes burning with an unholy light. Wanting to reach for me. I can feel it. Can feel his struggle. “I’d start a world fucking war to have you, Eloise. You think I’d balk over some bad press?”
“No, I think you’d stick by me, even if I was hurting you,” I breathe, imploring him with my eyes to understand. “That’s why I resigned.”
“Funny thing about resignations, they have to be accepted by your boss. And it’ll be a cold day in hell before I accept yours.” The material of his dress pants barely brushes my knees and yet, my core flexes so dramatically, I whimper, closing my eyes. “I came here intending to put you over my knee and spank you so raw, you never dared to leave me again, but now that I can smell you and see your beautiful face, all I want to do is kiss you.”
Those last few words are issued in an emotional rush and my heart responds with a rippling squeeze, a whisper of his name on my lips. I’m not in control of my body when I spring off the desk and wrap my arms around his neck, a sense of homecoming, need, terrible need, overtaking me and my legs climb his hips, his strong arms crushing me to his chest at the same time, our mouths panting and gasping against one another.
“Angel.”
“Pierce.”
“Angel.” His hands fumble with my ponytail, releasing my hair, so he can drag fistfuls of it to his nose, inhaling. “The way I miss you is inhuman.”
I hold onto him for dear life, absorbing his heat, his power, hot tears pressing behind my eyelids. “I miss you so much, too, but—”
“No. No buts. I’m bringing you home to Washington right this second. I know some members of my staff tried to scare you and there might be some bumps ahead, but if you ever trusted me before, Eloise…” He rolls his forehead right to left against mine. “Trust me again now. The nation is going to adore my wife.”
“I trust you more than anyone…” I trail off, his words finally sinking in and sending a beautiful rush of joy through my system. “W-wife?”
Pierce settles me down on the desk, but stays pressed in close between my legs, neither one of us willing to relinquish an ounce of contact. Still, he manages to unearth a ring box from his pants pocket, holding it aloft between us. “I need you at my side, angel,” he rasps, popping open the black velvet box to reveal a three-stone, princess cut diamond ring, the sight of it making me tremble. “Be my first lady.” He takes out the ring and slides it onto my finger. “Be my only lady, for the rest of time.”
“Are you sure?” I breathe with tears in my eyes, my attention traveling from the ring to the president. “Are you sure I won’t…be your downfall?”
“I’ve never been surer about anyone in my life.” He drops his face into my neck, laughing darkly. Taking my knees in each of his hands, he presses them open. All the way open. Before going to work unfastening the button and fly of his pants. Breathing hard, he leans me back on the desk and yanks aside my panties, pressing the tip of his shaft to my slippery entrance, tapping his hardness there, before sinking in deep, deep, deep, his hoarse moan drowning out my hiccupping sob of his name. “But if you were to be my downfall, little girl,” he says through his teeth, “I’d go with a smile on my face.”
I’m jerked upright and off the desk, impaled by Pierce’s thick intrusion. And holding onto his shoulders, I work my hips back and front, taking him deep with quick slaps of my hips, my movements eager because I’m looking right at his face as it transforms with open-mouthed euphoria. Coupled with the rapid, telltale swelling inside of me, I know my president needs relief badly and my sense of duty towards his pleasure takes over, my walls locking him in hard, my thigh muscles helping me deliver the tight bounces that make him groan like he’s dying, his hands holding my butt in a death grip, giving me even more leverage to please my president.
And oh, my goodness, yes, myself while I’m at it.
“Does that feel good?” I murmur in his ear, nipping it with my teeth.
“You have no idea,” he groans, surging forward to pin me against a row of lockers, rattling the metal locks with increasingly rough drives. “I’ve been craving you for over seventy-two hours. Don’t make me do it again, angel. Say you’ll be my wife.”