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)
“My president shouldn’t have to,” she half-gasps, half-whispers, starting to shake, letting out a long, whiny call of my name into my neck, riding me so rough through her climax, I’m shouting every curse word in the book at the ceiling by the time she’s finished setting the flood of her pleasure loose. “My president comes wherever he wants,” she says drowsily into my neck, kissing and licking. “As long as it’s somewhere inside me.”
I lose my mind. It’s almost a blackout, my only goal to loosen the pressure beneath my naval. It’s an ungodly pain. One that has my dick standing straight up like a fucking power line as I flip Eloise onto the mattress, my roughness of her unforgiveable, but I’m grunting and sweating like a possessed animal and there’s very little humanity left in me to temper myself. All I want is her pussy and I get it, pounding into her from behind with a growl, raw dogging my tight virgin on all fours, reaching around to her tits to feel them bouncing around in my palms, her nipples hard as glass.
“Come deep, Daddy,” she sobs.
“Try and stop me.” I reach between her legs and tickle her clit with my middle finger, my teeth roaming up and down the slope of her neck, leaving bites behind. “This is how it’s going to be, Eloise. Candlelight and wine for my good girl. Then it’s back home, so I can bang you like a dirty slut.”
She chokes on my name, coming on my fingers, her cunt twisting with an intense spasm, and I can’t hold on to my lust any longer. It runs away from me fully, my cock firing a load from the deepest recesses of my body, the pull of pain and relief so harsh that I’m hunched over her gorgeous body like a dog, humping and begging God for an end to the ache, my balls slapping loudly off her rear end, and my girl simply lays the cheek of her face on the bed and reaches back, pulling apart her ass so I can sink deeper and look at her tight asshole while I do it, my soul nearly exiting my body over the experience of her. The height of relief and triumph and pleasure. Eloise.
“You’re going to grow something in that belly for me now, little girl.” I bite back a curse, my hips thrusting involuntarily, come alternately seeping and pluming out of me, right into the sweet spot between her legs. “Daddy wants you pregnant before we leave this room in the morning.”
“Yes, sir,” she whimpers, rolling over onto her back with a dazed and dreamy look in her eyes, opening her thighs so I can watch my spend drip down the perfection of her pussy flesh. “If it’s a boy, can we please name him Pierce?” she asks, the obsession deepening in her eyes…but mine has surpassed it now. By miles. I’m insane for this woman.
And I’m putting a ring on it as soon as we get back to Washington.
No two ways about it.
ten
. . .
Eloise
I’m straddling the president in the back of his motorcade SUV, delivering his pleasure for all I’m worth, my green plaid skirt rucked up around my hips, my panties torn at the crotch, my dress shirt unbuttoned halfway to my navel—and the feverish hunger with which Pierce watches my breasts jiggle makes me glad I forwent a bra this morning as we rushed to shower, dress and pack back at the hotel.
We’ve barely slept all night. We couldn’t stop touching long enough, Pierce loving me against the steamy tile wall of the shower, on the floor with my bottom in the air and him moaning behind me. Then this morning in bed when we were just getting started again, the president chanting my name while I took him deep, deep inside my mouth, the Secret Service started pounding on the door to let the president know he was required back in Washington immediately,
The short helicopter flight home was torture. Not because I was scared this time, but because the president needed to use the flight to be brought up to speed on an emergency developing in Eastern Europe. Even so, while he spoke on the phone and reviewed information on his laptop, he held my hand, brushing his thumb back and forth across my knuckles, his fingertips eventually dropping lower to play with the hem of my skirt. The lazy tops of my stockings. My wet panties.
I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the leader of the free world stroking me through my underwear while discussing potential UN sanctions, but I’m willing to try.
I’m willing to do anything for him.
By the time the fight landed in Washington and we were escorted to the SUV, I was ready to sell my soul to get his zipper down. Him inside of me. That’s where he belongs.