Kamal hated to admit it, even to himself, but he was nervous. He had plenty of experience with women. One-night stands just for fun, daughters of Egypt’s elite the few times he’d attempted serious relationships. American girlfriends during college because even though he knew his father would never allow him to be serious about an American, they were the women he actually preferred. But he’d never pursued a woman as significant as Jessica Hampton.

It wasn’t simply that she was so powerful. Truth be told, he rather relished the idea of taking all that power to bed. The image of putting the president of the United States on her back and making her cry out his name was nothing but a sheer turn-on. But Jessica wasn’t just powerful, she was intelligent, beautiful, captivating, and refined. And she was whole—a whole human being who had shown over the course of a political career that she didn’t need a man. Kamal wasn’t sure what to do with that. He was certain that he’d never dated a woman who had so little need for a man in her life. What if she decided after tonight that she had no need for him?

“How long will you be, Mr. Ambassador?” his driver asked as they pulled up to the private parking area of the White House.

“I’m not sure,” Kamal said. Hopefully, a good long while. “Feel free to sit in the back to watch a movie or take a nap. I’d send you home, but when it’s time to go, I want to be able to do so quickly.”

“Yes, sir. It’s not a problem. Please let me know if you need anything.”

As Kamal exited the car, he was met by a Secret Service agent with neatly trimmed dark blond hair and a gun holstered at his hip.

“Mr. Ambassador,” the agent said. “The president has asked me to escort you upstairs.” They entered through a side door rather than the main one visitors typically used. Once inside, they walked through a small office and into a stairwell that was obviously for service purposes, not the grand staircase normally used to access the White House residence.

When they reached the top, the agent gestured for Kamal to step into a small sitting room with only an armchair and a side table.

“The president will be right with you, sir.” The agent gave Kamal a hard look. “And I will be nearby should either of you need anything.” The message was clear—this man was watching out for his president—and Kamal respected his service.

“Thank you,” he answered. Then the agent moved past him to another part of the apartment while Kamal sat to wait.

But he’d hardly gotten seated before the president herself appeared, and he knew without a doubt that, nerves or not, no other woman was going to do. This one. This one was everything he could ever dream of in a female, and he wanted nothing more than to show her that he could be every dream she’d ever had as well.

“Hi,” she murmured.

“Jessica.” Kamal lifted her hand to his lips as he had in her office, this time placing a sweet kiss on her palm before holding it against his cheek for just a moment. He reveled in the feel of her soft, cool skin.

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

“Famished.” And he knew she could see exactly what he was hungry for in his eyes. Because polite, patient Kamal was quickly exiting the building, and his replacement was going to devour this woman whole if she gave him half a chance.

Jessica led him to a private dining room with windows along one side. The table was already set for two, covered platters keeping the food warm.

“I wanted to cook you dinner,” she lamented.

Kamal raised one eyebrow. “You cook?”

“I love to cook. Or at least I did. Before…” she waved her arm around the room, “all this. But I had meetings all afternoon and then needed to record a radio show for the anniversary of public radio this evening, so I was forced to ask the kitchen to bring our food up.”

He pulled out her chair for her and then seated himself. “I couldn’t care less if the food was cooked by a Cordon Bleu chef or a legion of fast-food workers. I’m just glad to be here with you.”

They sat and ate the adequate meal. The conversation was sparse, and Jessica looked less and less comfortable as the night went on.

As he pushed back his plate and saw that she was no longer eating either, Kamal had to ask the question he dreaded. “Have you changed your mind?”

“I’m sorry?”

“About this evening. Have you changed your mind? I can go if it’s making you uncomfortable to have me here.”

“No!” Her voice rose an octave. “No, not at all. Please don’t go.”

Kamal snapped into action then, deciding that the time for deliberation and introspection was over. He’d waited, he’d been patient, and he knew that she needed this. He knew that underneath the duty and the obligation and all the things that weren’t said was a vibrant, beautiful woman struggling to break free. She’d been hurt, left adrift in a world that was so different from what she’d planned, and for all these years she’d been struggling, alone, trying to navigate her way back to who she was. But he was here now, and he could help. Help show her that she wasn’t lost, just buried, clawing to break free and ready to take over.

He reached her in one stride and pulled her from her seat.

“Oh!” she gasped as he dragged her into his arms. But he captured that sound with his lips as he crushed them to hers, his need scalding them both. His arms banded around her waist, and he pulled her as close as possible without crawling into her skin.

Her mouth opened to him in an instant, setting his blood to boil, and granting him access to the deep, rich sweetness that was Jessica Hampton. His stroked and caressed, and plundered her lips, her tongue, her silky soft skin. Raining kisses along her jaw and neck, he could hear her small gasps, and he moaned as he stretched his hands around her ass and lifted.

She wrapped her long designer-denim-clad legs around his waist while continuing to kiss him. He walked to the doorway of the dining room, tearing his mouth from hers only long enough to ask, “Which way?”

She pointed, and he kissed her again, stumbling across the enormous hall and through a pair of wide double doors. Inside, the room was dimly lit, an enormous bed taking up the far wall, with French doors to the right and an en suite bathroom to the left.

He set her down, dragging his lips from hers to look at their surroundings. “I don’t know that I’ve ever been in a president’s bedroom,” he mused.

“I should hope not,” she answered, grinning.

“I’ve never kissed a president before either,” he muttered, running his lips along the slim column of her neck.

“I…hope…not…” she gasped in response, writhing beneath his onslaught.

He kept up his attack, sliding his hand under the casual blouse she wore, his rough hands stroking the satiny skin of her stomach until he reached expensive silk and French lace. And then his hands were cupped around her luscious breasts, and everything in him simply wept with want. Soft, full flesh filled his hands, and she moaned when he rolled her nipples between his fingers.

He buried his face in her neck, biting then licking to soothe, as his hands squeezed and massaged until she was a writhing mess. Her hips pressed into his erection, and she gasped and purred against him from head to toe.

He pulled away, looking down at her. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted in arousal. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, stroking a hand over her lush hair. Then he reached down and ripped the tiny buttons on the front of her blouse free, exposing her hot skin to the cool air and spilling those amazing breasts into his hands again.

“Oh!” she cried out. “I guess that blouse is history.”

“I’ll buy you more,” he growled, walking her back until the backs of her knees hit the bed. But he didn’t push her down. Instead, he removed his jacket, then unbuttoned his shirt cuffs, slowly, deliberately. “Take off the rest of it,” he commanded.

She blinked at him, then let the torn blouse drop to the floor.

He began working on the buttons on the front of his dress shirt, his eyes never leaving hers. “All of it,” he commanded again, his voice raspy with need.

As his shirt dropped to the floor, she unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. As he toed off his shoes, she stepped out of hers and shimmied the jeans off. As he slowly slid his belt from the loops, she stood before him in nothing but a matching bra and panties set—white silk trimmed in black lace.

Her cheeks were furiously pink now, and her hair was disheveled from his fingers tangling in it. She practically glowed in the low light of the room. He watched her, wondering if she knew what she needed right now. But it didn’t matter, because he did, and he would ensure that she got it all. He had no idea what this night might lead to, but he was determined that when he left her bed, the president of the United States would be free of some of her burdens.

He carefully placed his belt on the bed, then let his pants slide to the floor along with his boxers. “Now, it’s time for you to do as you’re told, Madam President.”

* * *

Jessica stood mostly unclothed, looking at the most amazing specimen of raw man she’d ever seen. He was tall and broad, his bronzed skin stretching like satin over a powerful chest and defined abs. His biceps were rounded, and bunched every time he moved his arms. Her eyes skated down farther, over a chest furred with dark hair, down to the soft trail that ended at a cock that would intimidate a porn star. It was long, thick, and shining at full mast, pointing due north and looking like it could take on an entire legion of women.

God, who knew those custom-made suits hid all that? Jessica’s heart beat double time, and she had a moment of panic. The dark look on his face promised things that were dirty and dangerous, and she wasn’t sure whether she was actually up to the task or not.

“Jessica.” He placed a fingertip under her chin and lifted her gaze to his. “Did you hear me? Take it all off.”

She swallowed, then nodded her compliance, and with shaky hands, she removed her bra and panties, finally standing before him with no protection, no barriers.

His gaze turned reverential as he stroked down her shoulder and arm with one finger only. “You are spectacularly beautiful.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the cap of her shoulder. “Meant to be worshipped.” His lips continued across her collarbone. “Meant to be pleasured,” he murmured against her ear.

She moaned and tipped her head back, her breath coming in short puffs. His hand wrapped around the front of her throat, and he whispered, “Lie on the bed, hands on the headboard.”

Jessica’s eyes popped open, and her heart gave a jolt, bringing her back to awareness. It was true that if she didn’t like something, all she had to do was give one good yell and there would be men with guns everywhere in seconds, but having the Secret Service rescue her while naked with a foreign ambassador wasn’t her idea of a good plan. But she’d never had someone boss her in the bedroom. She and John had been playful, best friends who also loved each other’s bodies. She wasn’t sure what to make of Kamal’s demands.

He looked at her, watching, waiting to see what she would do. And she considered it, even as her heart raced, a strange combination of fear and excitement, if she were being honest.

“Do you trust me?” he finally asked.

She thought about it. “I don’t know that I fully trust anyone. It’s not part of my world.” She shook her head once at the realization. “But you’ve never given me any reason not to trust you. You even saved my life. I guess if there’s anyone I should trust, it would be you. But it’s…difficult.”

He skated his hands up her sides, resting them at her waist, right above the flare of her hips. They were warm and comforting, and her anxiety receded a bit.

“You run an entire nation, Jessica,” he told her. “You’re charged with making all the decisions for the rest of us. You bear the weight of the world on your shoulders.” He grinned at her. “And such beautiful shoulders they are.”

She couldn’t help the smile that answered him. He made her feel young again—girlish. He was charming and flirtatious, and it was hard to resist.

“Let me take over now,” he murmured, his hands traveling up from her waist to the undercurve of her breasts, where his thumbs stroked softly. “All you need to do is relax and enjoy. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

He kissed her on the mouth then, his tongue stroking moans and gasps out of her until all she could do was feel—the ache in her core, the tingling in her breasts, the sheer need and want that she’d been carrying for this man for weeks.

“On the bed. Hands on the headboard,” he whispered again, and Jessica complied, lying on her back and reaching her arms over her head.

He crawled up her body, kissing and licking the entire way, touching patches of skin that hadn’t felt any human touch other than her own in years. It was nearly more than she could stand, and by the time he reached her head, she was trembling with so many emotions and sensations, she couldn’t even open her eyes. She felt him wrap her fingers around the slats in the big oak headboard, and then she realized that the smooth, cool band around her wrists was his belt. He pulled it tight but not painfully so, and she was trapped. Beneath a powerful man who could crush her with one hand.

“Can you look at me?” he asked softly.

She opened her eyes, and what she saw there wasn’t frightening. His face was awash with desire, need, and, oddly, tenderness. His five-o’clock shadow gave him a just-rolled-out-of-bed look, and the lock of hair that had fallen over his eyes was soft and shiny. She ached to reach out and touch it.

“I will never hurt you, Jessica,” he said. “I will never do anything you don’t want me to. Trust me, and I will take away your burdens. Trust me, and I will worship you the way you deserve. Trust me, and I will give you everything you desire.”

All she could do was nod, because no matter how scary, she knew that she needed this more than she’d ever needed anything in her life.

He lowered his head and wrapped his full lips around one plump nipple, sucking it into his mouth as his tongue circled it. His hands kneaded and stroked her, skating up her sides, finding her breasts, moving restlessly as if they couldn’t choose the perfect place to settle. And Jessica arched her back, groaning in ecstasy, pushing her breast farther into his mouth as he made a growling sound in the back of his throat, sending tingles straight to her aching center.

When he began to move down her torso, pressing openmouthed kisses along the path to the juncture of her legs, she cried out. “Oh! God, please, Kamal.”

He looked up at her, placing two fingers against her lips. “Shh, love. We don’t want your men interrupting us. You have to be patient. You’ll get exactly what you need.”

She wiggled beneath him and made tiny gasping noises, biting her lip to keep from screaming the way she wanted to.

When he was finally settled between her thighs, his broad shoulders holding her legs apart, she opened her eyes and looked down to find him watching her, his eyes so dark and filled with desire, it took her remaining breath away. And as his fingers spread her open and he dipped his head and delicately touched the tip of his tongue to her clit, she felt tears spring to her eyes. But then he was everywhere, lips, tongue, fingers. Sliding, stroking, sucking with the perfect amount of pressure. Jessica was so overcome, she pulled against the leather that bound her wrists, feeling the edges dig into her delicate skin. The sting kept her focused, helped her bring some order to the chaos of sensations that were rolling through her.

“So delicious,” Kamal murmured as he licked up her center, his fingers sliding in and out of her in a perfectly timed rhythm.

“Oh, oh,” she gasped. “So close…”

He flicked her clit with his tongue at the same time he stroked that magical spot inside her, and she bucked, her entire body going rigid as she floated on that crest, and then she came, hard and fast, and so long. Kamal stroked every last moment out of her, finally covering her body with his, digging his fingers through her thick hair to hold her head steady as he gazed into her blue eyes.

“God,” she whispered.

“No, just us,” he answered, grinning.

She smiled at him, already feeling the ache return as his rock-hard cock pressed against her pubic bone. She swiveled her hips, and he moaned, his eyes fluttering closed briefly.

“I want to touch you,” she whispered. “Please.”

Wordlessly, he reached up and unbuckled the belt that held her hands to the headboard. Settling himself in the cradle of her thighs, he rested his weight on his forearms and watched, waiting to see what she would do. She skated her palms down his back, relishing the feel of his hot, smooth skin.

“Your suits don’t do you justice,” she purred as she felt the many muscles of his back and arms. “You should be on a billboard somewhere in your BVDs.”

He rubbed the tip of his nose against hers. “I’m glad you approve. It’s worth the punches I have to take to look like this if you enjoy it.”

She pulled back, one eyebrow raised. “Punches?”

“Mm. I work out by boxing at Spar. It’s a popular gym with politicians and diplomats. Derek Ambrose is my usual opponent.”

“You and he are close, aren’t you?”

“Yes. But I definitely don’t want to talk about him when I’m in bed with a beautiful woman.” He chuckled.

“What do you want to talk about?” she asked coquettishly, sliding her hand in between their bodies and down his abs at the same time.

“Talking is…fuuuck,” he swore as she wrapped her fingers around his considerable erection and gave a small squeeze.

“What was that?” she teased, sliding her hand up and down his shaft, pride surging through her when his hips rocked against her in response.

“Ah, no more talking,” he gasped before kissing her long and deep and hard. When he finally stopped to breathe, Jessica was boiling with want, wrapping one leg around his hips as she pressed hot kisses along his collarbone, and then took his earring and the lobe that wore it into her mouth, sucking gently.

She slid his cock along the wet slickness of her core, eliciting a groan and a shudder from him. When she placed the tip at her opening, his eyes popped open. “Don’t you want me to get protection?” he asked.

She looked at him for a moment, debating whether she should tell him the whole truth or not. Her heart contracted briefly, and then her stomach followed. “I haven’t been with anyone since my husband,” she confessed, deciding that partial truths would have to do for now. “And I have contraception covered.”

He looked at her as if he were trying to puzzle out the rest of the story. Finally, he nodded, tenderly kissing her on the corner of her mouth. “My liaisons are always safe,” he said. “I would never put you at risk.”

“You said I could trust you.”

“Yes. I very much want you to.”

“Then fuck me, Mr. Ambassador. Please.”

Kamal complied by thrusting forward and burying himself to the hilt inside her.

Six years was a hell of a long time to go without sex, and Jessica decided that the idea of being a born-again virgin wasn’t entirely fantasy. Something that big in someplace so long neglected wasn’t entirely comfortable. She held her breath for a moment, gritting her teeth, willing her body to relax and enjoy this—because she knew it would be amazingly enjoyable—eventually.

Kamal kissed her softly on her cheeks, her jaw, her eyelids. “Shh, love. Relax. Let me make you feel good again.”

But she had to commend the man, he held perfectly still, giving her the moments she needed to calm down and begin to feel the sensations of him inside her. And what sensations they were. Tingling, sizzling, aching sensations. And urges. Such as the one that said she needed to grind and circle her hips to get more of whatever it was that he’d set off in her—like a tidal wave.

“That’s it,” he whispered, beginning to pump, small thrusts in, pulling back out in equally small increments. She met him each time, trying desperately to get closer, press harder, take more. “My God, you feel good,” he groaned.

“More, Kamal. More.”

His control seemed to break then, and he thrust hard, pulling back all the way, then plunging back in, over and over, his big body held over hers, his brow furrowed in concentration.

She clung to his shoulders, her long legs wrapped tightly around his hips. Her neck was arched as she groaned from the very depths of her soul.

His pace became more rapid, and she could feel her own release so close but just out of reach.

“Touch yourself,” he growled, dipping his head to nip at the tendon between her neck and shoulder.

She reached between their bodies and rubbed her clit. Once, twice, and then she fell apart, spinning out into blinding light where everything sparkled and shone like a million tiny diamonds. When the blood stopped rushing in her ears, the stars cleared from her eyes, and Kamal was above her crying out her name, before he collapsed onto her, his breath coming in huffs, his silky hair soft against her cheek.

He rolled off her in a moment, pulling her along until she was draped on top of him, her head on his chest, where she could listen to his strong heart beating in rhythm with her own. And something inside her clicked into place. Something that had been out of alignment for so very long slid into its rightful slot, and just like that, Jessica’s entire world changed.

* * *

Kamal ran strands of Jessica’s hair through his fingers, relishing the feeling of her delicate frame on top of him, her silky skin and perfect, soft tits against his torso. His cock was already semi-hard again from the weight of her hips, and his mind was so bright, it was as though someone had illuminated it with starlight.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

“Mmm.”

He chuckled before flipping her over and looking into her eyes. “This is officially the single best date I’ve ever had.”

She laughed. “Yeah? You don’t get lucky on all your first dates? You have some pretty impressive moves, Mr. Ambassador.”

“Jessica,” he said seriously, even though he knew he ran the risk of scaring her off if he was too honest too soon. “I’ve never gotten this lucky ever. First date, tenth date, none of it. Right now, I am truly the luckiest man on the planet.”

She froze, her eyes searching his for something, what he wasn’t sure.

“Because of who I am?” she asked, her voice small.

“Because of who you are—Jessica,” he asserted. “Not because of what you are—the president.”

Breath left her lungs in a rush, and she bit down on her lip to stop it from trembling. She cleared her throat before she responded.

“It has been a very long time since anyone but Fiona has cared about Jessica,” she told him.

He stroked her hair, his heart tender, a new rawness there that he’d never experienced before. “I told you, I am here for Jessica. The president has more than enough people looking after her. Let me make Jessica my job.”

She gave him the tiniest of nods, her beautiful blue eyes blinking rapidly.

“I want to see you again,” he rasped, her heightened emotions making his own throat feel thick and raw.

“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “But it won’t be easy. We can’t let anyone know. You can’t tell a soul.”

“Of course.” He kissed her on the lips. “I don’t ever want to put you at risk.”

“The agent who brought you up will be the only one who knows. The guards at the gate are simply given a list of cars to admit. They don’t know any details. But to get you into the building, we must always do it the way we did tonight.”

He sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“I’d understand,” she rushed the words. “If you didn’t want to be treated like a dirty secret. If I could think of a way to do this without incurring the wrath of half the country—”

“It’s okay.”

And he meant it. The only thing he hated was that she had to sneak around, have her life controlled by things and people who didn’t really care about her except for how she related to them. America loved an image of Jessica Hampton, not the real woman, and that made him angry on her behalf. He turned and cupped her cheek in his hand. “Of course you can’t date someone publicly, especially not a foreign official. I don’t mind. If I did, I wouldn’t have come here tonight.”

“If you’re sure…”

“I’m very sure.” He smiled, charmed by her concern.

“Okay, then.” She blushed, and his heart flipped over. He was in deep trouble, he knew it, but he didn’t even care. She made his soul fly, and it had been a very long time since he’d felt light enough to leave the ground.

“Now,” he said as he wrapped his hands around her waist and squeezed, causing her to giggle delightfully. “I think we might need a little more Jessica time before I have to sneak out into the cold night.”

And then the ambassador made slow sweet love to the president, while America slept, certain that their favorite daughter was locked away in her castle, safe from foreign invasions.