Mr. President(53)

My breath is coming fast and hard, and I’m out of control with want as I pull his head up so that he’ll kiss me again.

He doesn’t need to be asked. His lips fasten to mine without apology or restraint, then he swipes his tongue down my neck, kissing and nibbling my skin.

I’m high, absolutely high on him, on this moment. Matt drags his fingers along my stomach.

I stroke his pecs and kiss his nipple too. A groan of pure hunger and approval rumbles up his chest. I push his shirt over his head, and his hair ends up rumpled and sexy.

He leans over me again.

Matthew unhooks my bra and exposes my breasts.

He touches me.

My nipples harden under the feathery touch and I suck in a breath. I wait, my body tense, wanting. He strokes the pad of his thumb over the tip of my breast, sending a shiver down my spine.

“So responsive,” he says as he leans over and kisses the inside of my thigh. I squirm a little, and his laugh caresses my skin. “So sweet.” He moves his lips over my sex. Oh god. He trails his hand up my hip, to my breasts. My muscles contract deeply and a low groan leaves me.

He tugs my panties off and tosses them to the floor. His thumb circles my clit and passes over my wet slit, over my folds, then penetrates me. I clench my muscles, even my belly muscles. “Ohhh.”

He pulls on my breast with one hand.

He breathes in my skin and licks and laps my nipple. His warm tongue moves languidly over my skin, and my body beneath it is on fire.

He swipes his tongue over my belly and lower, to my sex again.

He’s so hungry. I’m so hungry.

I want to touch him. I reach out and run my fingers over his chest, his muscles visible in the city lights streaming through the window.

He kisses the inside of my other thigh. I squirm and thrust my hips up in a silent plea.

His tongue dips into my sex, tasting me.

I’m about to come. It feels so good. I’m so hot for him it’s not even funny.

“I can’t get over how good you taste. How gorgeous you are.”

His eyes look tender and wild as he kisses my sex for another minute, watching my reaction, and it’s an intoxicating combination.

I pull him up and kiss him. He kisses me back, tasting like me. Our tongues move, our hands searching, his exploring, mine kneading.

He grabs my hips and leans in to lick his tongue across my nipple. I gasp and thrust my chest upward, and his laugh again brushes over my skin.

“Don’t laugh at me—this is serious,” I groan.

“It’s very serious.”

He kisses my sex lips with a languorous, wet tongue. I buck, but he stills me with one hand on my hip bone. He eases his thumb over my clit and starts rubbing in circles as his tongue dips languidly inside me.

My clit is getting rolled in delicious little circles by the pad of his thumb, and I’m biting down on my lower lip to keep from moaning too loud.

My breath comes in a fast, choppy rhythm as Matt shifts back and strips his jeans with fast, powerful jerks of his hands—I see all of him, golden skin and muscles, and I salivate in silence.

He’s well delineated, athletically built and perfectly proportioned, and I want every inch of the guy. He rolls on a condom. He’s so big and thick, I lick my lips, screaming silently in anticipation.

“This is what you want, Charlotte.”

And then he pushes in.

He’s so thick and he moves fast, taking me by surprise with the delicious stretching sensation in my sex.

I go off.

“Oh god, Matt!”

My orgasm gains intensity, a curling, twisting, tightening rope, stretching from the tips of my toes to the tips of my fingers.

I groan one second, and the next, I’m experiencing the most intense, breathtaking, body-shaking, soul-shattering orgasm I’ve ever had in my life, caused by Matt’s thick cock inside me. I’m bucking beneath him, the pleasure almost agonizing, clutching onto his shoulders for dear life.

He grabs me by the hips and moves inside me, faster, deeper, and shouts as he releases.

He holds me against him as he comes, really hard, his cock jerking several times inside me, bringing me to a second orgasm.

Cursing under his breath, he continues rocking his hips as he brushes my hair back behind my face, prolonging the pleasure, gazing down at me until the convulsions in my body turn to tremors and then to lingering little shivers. Then he rolls to his back and brings me with him, brushing one stubborn wet tendril of red hair back again.

I’m panting against his neck. I’m sweaty; we both are.

I shut my eyes, not certain that just happened and not certain that I don’t desperately want it to happen again—even if it shouldn’t.

My body throbs from the way he just fucked me. My nipples feel sensitive.

I stroke my finger up his chest.