Chapter 19

Henry

“I’ve wanted to do that since I first laid eyes on you,” I tell her.

“Tonight?” she asks, breathless. I cup her face with both my hands and look into her eyes, rubbing my thumb across the high ridge of her cheekbone.

“Six years ago.”

Her full lips pop open in an ‘o’ and then quirk into a half smile. She throws her arms around my neck as she rises on her tiptoes.

“Too bad, I beat you to it,” she says, her mouth hovering against my lips.

The thrill of the memory of that kiss, paired with the immediacy of her body in my hands, is too much. I want to take this slow, savor every taste of her skin, but the moment my lips touch hers, I knew that was a lost cause.

“Fuck it,” I groan—more so to myself than to Beatrice.

Her beautiful fingers grab my neck, and then I’m crashing her mouth into mine, hard enough to bruise.

She breaks the kiss and drops her hands, clawing at the front of my shirt, scrambling to undo my buttons.

I toss my shirt to the floor, and Bea takes this opportunity to slide her hands along the grooves of my abs and chest.

I can see her soft brown eyes grow darker with desire.

She leans in close to whisper in my ear, “Now help me take this dress off and fuck me, Mr President.”

I jerk us both up and off the couch. I turn Bea around, unhooking the clasp behind her neck and unzipping the long line of the zipper, tracing its track with my tongue. She shivers beneath my touch.

When I’m done, she lets the dress fall to a puddle on the floor, giving me an unhindered view of her from behind. The creamy expanse of her slender back, her high, pert ass in the barely there scrap of black lace, the way her brown hair falls in a river down her back as she releases it from whatever contraption holding it up—it stops me cold.

But only for an instant.

She then turns around, and I get my first view of her full, plump breasts and the taut lines of her torso. Suddenly, I’m no longer the cultured and dignified leader of the free world—I’m a fucking animal.

And, by the way, she’s eyeing me like she’s ready to eat me alive herself. I think Beatrice might be one too.

I practically growl as we collide, thudding against the hotel room wall, my mouth devouring hers. But it’s her tongue that thrusts into my mouth like some invading force. And she does growl in frustration as she rips at my clothes, desperate for skin against skin.

My mouth is on her neck, biting and sucking on the tender, delicate flesh, while her own clever hands are removing my belt. Then she reaches down and cups me, my hard cock twitching at her touch. She moans like an animal.

I feel her knees buckle and catch her, before she starts frantically trying to undo my pants. I snatch both her wrists in one large hand and raise them above her head against the wall. She tries to fight against my grip but grows still as I hold her gaze and use my other hand to release the straining fly of my pants.

Her full breasts heave as her eyes trail down my body. I release her hands, and she doesn’t move, just watches as I push my pants and undershorts down my hips and step out of them. The throbbing length of my hard cock is now prominently on display.

Now the only thing separating us is that flimsy bit of lace. I see her shiver again—this time, in anticipation. I grab her face, kissing her red, swollen lips, before I make my way to her breasts, sucking one into my mouth as I cup the other, running my thumb over the rosebud nipple.

“Fuuuck, Henry,” she moans, her head falling back against the wall.

I love the sound of my name on her lips. She pants it out as if saying it will give her some sort of release.

I switch to suckling her other breast and slink my other hand to her pussy, pushing aside the soaked thong.

“Fuck,” I groan.

She’s dripping. I bring my fingers to my lips and taste her. She tastes like honey and pomegranate—delicious.

Then I’m so fucking ravenous that I drop to my knees and rip away the fabric keeping me from my feast. Beatrice readjusts, widening her stance to give better access, and then I lick the juice from her.

I gently suck her swollen clit, and she cries out, her body shuddering as she does. I feel her knees start to buckle, so—though it’s almost impossible for me to do so—I tear myself away from her wet pussy.

I pick Bea up and carry her across the suite to the bed. She wraps her legs around me, kissing and biting my neck.

Then she licks along my ear before she whispers, “I’m going to need your dick soon, Mr President. It’s a matter of national security.”

My cock throbs, but I huff out a laugh. “Oh, really? How’s that?”

“Because if I don’t get you inside me soon, I might kill you. And assassinating the president is frowned upon.”

I bark out a laugh, and somehow, it makes me want her even more.

I throw her onto the edge of the bed, all set to resume my leisurely devouring of her sweet pussy, but she scrambles up. And before I know what’s happening, she’s deep throating my cock.

I run my fingers through her hair and feel a growl reverberate up from my core and slip between my clenched teeth.

Bea has every muscle in my body clenching and wanting release, but I absolutely refuse to give in and see this end too soon like some inexperienced frat boy.

Though that becomes increasingly difficult when she pulls back and starts sucking my balls and licking up and down my shaft like it’s an ice cream cone.

“Beatrice,” I growl.

“Hmm?” she hums around my dick; it jumps at the vibrations.

“Come. Here.” She gives my shaft another long, slow lick.

“Is that an order, Mr President?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Well, in that case.”

She makes her way up my body, kissing as she goes, the weight of her breasts crushing against me. I palm them, and she moans again, pulling me against her mouth. My cock slips in the slick warm folds of her cunt, and I can’t fucking take it.

I throw us both down on the bed, desperate to slip inside.

I move back down, teasing her lower lips open with my tongue as I move my fingers into her tight, throbbing pussy.

“Oh, god! Yes...Henry. Fuck, yes!”

I’ve got her wound so tight she’s about to explode. But then, so am I.

Her hips buck up, and I use my other hand to hold her still while I keep licking her clit as I finger fuck her over the edge. And when her release comes, I almost lose it myself.

But then, she’s tugging at my hair, trying to yank me up, her body still trembling from her orgasm.

“Oh my fucking god, Henry. You better get your ass up here and fuck me now.”

I don’t need to be told twice.

I’m up, bracing myself over her, and she grabs my cock and guides it inside her. She’s warm and slick, swollen with desire. One stroke, and I’m as deep as I can go.

Her juices flow down my shaft like honey.

And as she whimpers and moans and pants out my name as I bring her back to the edge, I let myself go.

My body betrays me and succumbs to its need. My knees begin to quake like I’m on a ship in the middle of a rough sea, and the muscles in my thighs and stomach begin to clench on their own accord.

That growl from my core rises up and through my lips once again as I fill her to the brim with my need and six long years of regret and pent-up desire.

It’s feels like the Fourth of July fireworks in Washington—well worth the wait.