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’ll never let it get locked up like that again, angel.”
“Thank you, sir,” she says, peeling the dress shirt off my shoulders and down my arms. When she reaches my wrists, she has to come around the front of me and take the bourbon out of my hands, and I’m surprised when she looks me in the eye and drains the contents of the tumbler, her eyes glazing over like frost on a windshield. “For the pain.”
“What pain?” I ask, raggedly, ready to call ten doctors, if she requires them.
She doesn’t answer me right away, her brow furrowed in concentration as she sets down my glass and unfastens my cufflinks, arranging them near the wet bar. Once my hands are free of the shirt and it drops to the ground, she looks up at me earnestly. “Aren’t you going to take my virginity tonight, sir?”
“Yes,” I say, instantly winded. Weak in the fucking knees.
She waited for me. She waited for me.
Eloise steps closer, smoothing her palms down my bare chest and not stopping. No, she strokes down past the waistband of my pants, massaging my hard cock through the black material. “You didn’t think I forgot about this, did you?”
“I didn’t want to wake you,” I say in a hoarse rush.
“Mr. President, I’m yours whenever you need me.” She has my belt buckle undone, now she pops the button free at the top of my fly, sliding her hand into my pants and jacking me off through the cotton of my briefs. “Sleeping or otherwise.”
“Eloise.” My voice is uneven, strained, along with every muscle in my body. “I’m not feeling very in control at the moment.”
She goes up on her toes and whispers in my ear. “I know, Daddy. That’s why I drank the bourbon. In case you need to hurt me.”
I’ve fisted her entire length of hair before she’s even finished speaking, snarling, marching her toward the bedroom with it in my grip, a modern version of a caveman bringing a woman back to his cave to fuck. I want to reassure her that there won’t be any pain, but I find I can’t do that. I don’t know the animal she’s turned me into. Pulses clamor throughout my body, my vision is glitchy, like I’m in some kind of fever dream, my balls warm and heavy, the need to claim full ownership of this girl roaring in my blood.
As soon as we’re in the bedroom, I release her hair and unzip her dress, wrenching the garment down her body to her ankles. She’s in nothing but wet panties now, still soaked in the orgasm I gave her downstairs, and Christ, she’s a sight straight out of a male fairytale, standing there in high heels, a two-inch strip of white lace dividing her juicy ass cheeks, her eyelids at half-mast from the bourbon, liquor still shiny on her mouth.
“I have this fantasy,” she purrs, running her tongue along her bottom lip. “Do you want to hear it?”
“Fuck yes.”
She smiles slyly, seductively over her shoulder as she crawls onto the giant, king-sized bed, winding me with the view of her on all fours from behind, her thighs flexing as she crawls, her asshole and pussy visible through the pattered lace, taking herself all the way up to the headboard before flopping onto her side, stretching like a kitten in the center of the white comforter.
“You’re in your room after a long day of meetings and press briefings and running the country. And you’re stressed out. Overwhelmed.” She rolls over onto her belly, crossing her ankles in the air behind her, swinging them playfully, her earnest sex appeal the strongest drug in the fucking world. Cartels would make billions if they could sell whatever she’s laced into my bloodstream. Infatuation. Starvation. Love.
“You call me to come to your room at the White House and I take care of everything for my president.” She crooks her finger at me and I go, in a goddamn trance, joining her on the bed where I allow her to push me onto my back, every ounce of me being absorbed by her beautiful face, her throaty voice, whatever she’s going to say next.
She straddles me, topless in her see-through panties, leaning down to speak up against my mouth, her breath tasting like bourbon.
“I get on my knees to suck you as soon as I’m in the door,” she whispers, slowly licking her tongue into my mouth, her mound dragging at a leisurely pace up and down my stiff cock where it’s trapped inside my briefs. “And then, when you’re so hard from my blow job that you’re ready to burst, I stop. I tease you, make you chase me to the bedroom where I finally give you your reward. I do all the work, because you’ve already done so much for the day.” She closes her eyes and hums, as if she’s picturing the scene, her hips rolling like waves, her sides puffing in and out. “I’m riding you. Riding my president like a good girl until all that frustration is let out and you’re ready to take on the world again.”