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)
“Sir, you don’t have to intervene like that on my behalf. I can handle myself—”
“How often does that happen?” he interrupts.
He’s not going to like the answer, so I press my lips into a straight line.
His curse is vile. “You’re getting your own security detail.”
“What? Sir, that is totally unnecessary—”
“Eloise, do you want me to be able to concentrate on running the country, or not?”
“Of course, I do!”
“Then allow the security detail.” His hands curl into fists where they rest on his thighs. “I find…I’m very protective over you.” His chest shudders up and down. “Very.”
“No one has been this concerned about my safety since my father.” I reach over and tug his tie gently, wanting to lighten his mood. “Should I start calling you daddy?”
Pierce stills, his jaw flexed, catching my wrist when I start to draw my hand back, bringing it to his open mouth, the heat of his breath ghosting over my knuckles. Very slowly, he reaches up with his free fingers and presses the button to close the privacy screen, rendering us alone and insulated in the dark backseat. “Am I a hypocrite, Ms. Rogers?” he asks when the screen is fully engaged, rubbing his lips against the pulse at my wrist. “I just threatened that man’s life for asking you out on a date, yet here I am, dying to check and see if you need a panty change.”
I blush, zipping my attention down to my lap.
“It better be because of me.”
“It’s always because of you,” I whisper. “And you’re not a hypocrite, sir. I’ve done nothing but encourage you to…touch me. I did nothing to encourage him.”
“That’s the only reason he’s still standing.” His nostrils flare, his gaze setting my thighs on fire under his regard. “Take off your panties and hand them to me, Ms. Rogers.”
My knees begin to tremble. Something about our dynamic is shifting, but I can’t put my finger on why. Or how. Only that I’m feeling very wicked…and the number one authority in the nation is about to find out how wicked, exactly. How wet he makes me.
He’s asking to hold the proof in his hands.
Pulses pound in the most private of places as I lift my hips off the leather bench seat and reach under my dress, hooking my thumbs in the waistband of my lacy white panties and easing them down my thighs, my breath catching when they come into view and the president makes a guttural sound, his palm coming to rest low on his belly, his strain growing more pronounced as I drag my underwear slowly down my calves and past my heels, holding them in my lap a moment, before holding them out for his inspection.
Pierce takes the scrap of lace, unfolding the tiny white garment and holding it up to the muted light coming in through the tinted window. With his chest rising and falling in rapid order, he sets the panties on his thigh and rubs his thumb through the wet cotton section that has been pressed to the seam of my sex all afternoon.
“Jesus Christ.” He snatches them up in a shaking fist and presses them to his nose, inhaling deeply. “Smells like honey and roses.”
“Thank you,” I breathe, shaking. I’ve just given my drenched panties to the president. I’d give him every part of me if he crooked his little finger.
Is he going to? Is he changing his mind about pursuing something together?
“You joke about calling me daddy, but this way I want to guard you, take care of you…and discipline you for having a wet cunt in public…is very real, Eloise.” He rubs my lacy underwear against his open mouth. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me. And I don’t know how to control it.”
Pierce McAlister just said the word cunt. I should be shocked. But there’s no room for shock around how exhilarated I am. How enlivened I am by his admissions. “H-how would you like to discipline me, sir?”
“Lay face down over my lap and find out,” he rasps.
With my sex contracted in a perpetual hold that leaves me dizzy, I turn on the seat, pressing my knee to the leather to lever myself up—and I do as I’m told. Because I want to. I’m dying to surrender beneath the care of this worthy man. And no sooner am I face down over the president’s lap does he yank up my skirt with rough hands, fully exposing my bottom, the mere eroticism of what’s happening causing me to whimper, my open mouth pressed to the leather seat, butt raised in the air.
“Christ. This ass is so hot, it’s disrespectful, Eloise.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“Answer me this. How does a virgin get so fucking wet?” he says hoarsely, massaging my right butt cheek, before switching to the left, then back. Back and forth and back, moisture trickling and pooling between my legs. “Maybe it’s the same reason I blew a load in my pants the first time you touched me. Our bodies know something is happening here and our minds are playing catch up.” His tone thickens. “My body definitely liked you calling me daddy, and I don’t know if that’s fucked up or not.”