Mr. President:A Billionaire & Virgin Fake Fiance Romance(217)

"You have no idea," I tell him, my fingers finding their way to his  crotch. Flattening the palm of my hand there, a shiver goes up my spine  as I feel his hard cock straining against his pants. I curl my fingers  around his thick shape, remembering how it felt to have him inside of  me, and I grow even wetter. Squeezing his cock, I look up at him, a lewd  smile on my lips. Grinning back at me, he tangles his fingers in my  hair and yanks; I gasp and, a heartbeat after that, he leans in and  crushes his mouth against mine.

We kiss as if we are possessed, our tongues dancing around each other as  a burning need takes over me. I don't think I have ever wanted a man as  much as I want Mason. Somehow, knowing that he's going to be my  stepfather, makes it even better. I never knew that doing the wrong  thing could feel so right.

As desire buries its fangs in my mind, I lose all control. I tug on his  shirt, untucking it, and then take my fingers to his shoulders. I pull  his jacket down his arms and, before it has even hit the floor, I'm  already unbuttoning his shirt, my fingers moving anxiously.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he tells me, grabbing my wrists and  forcing me to stop. Looking into his, I can almost see the flames of  desire dancing there. This might be a dangerous game, yes, but Mason  loves the way we're playing it.

"Yes," I whisper, trying to break free from his hold, "and you love it."  A grin lights his face up and, forcing me to turn around, he pushes me  back and against the wall. I breathe out sharply as I feel my back  against the wall and, at the same time, he pins my arms over my head.

"You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now," he continues,  slowly leaning into me and laying soft kisses on my neck. Closing my  eyes, I surrender to the way his wet lips make their way from my neck to  my cleavage, my nipples getting so hard they almost hurt.

"Then do it," I tell him, my heart racing faster and faster. I can't  believe that I'm asking him to fuck him here, in his office …  I know that  we fucked in a public bathroom, but this is different. Now there are  consequences, and serious ones. The thing is, right now, I couldn't care  less.

As his hands go down the side of my body, my skin prickles in anticipation and I sigh heavily.

"Not until you beg me to, baby girl," he whispers.

I whimper. He feels so good. I can feel his hands traveling down as  every nerve fires. When he finally meets the hemline of my skirt, he  slides his fingers underneath it and pushes it up to my waist. I pant,  throwing my head back against the wall as his hands make their way  toward my inner thighs. As he moves closer to my pussy, desire starts to  boil in my mind, my insides clenching as primal desires take precedence  over everything else.

I run my hands through his hair, disheveling it, and then pull harshly.  At the same time, he presses his hand right between my thighs, and I  can't help but let out a subdued moan. I don't think I have ever been  this wet. It's funny, really; I've had all kinds of men chasing after  me, but it took an older one to make me feel like this. Of course, even  though Mason is 37, he doesn't look like it; in fact, he looks better  than men ten years his junior.

"This," he whispers, placing his mouth close to my ear as he starts to  rub my pussy over my drenched thong, "is mine." My insides clench at his  words and I realize that he's right; my pussy belongs to him and to no  one else.

"Yours," I pant, letting go of his hair and grabbing his wrist. I pull  him into me, forcing him to press harder against my pussy. My insides  are on fire, but I won't stop until both my mind and body are turned  into ashes.

I go back to his shirt and, with trembling fingers, I finish unbuttoning  his shirt. When it's done I press both my hands against his firm  pectorals, feeling their hard shape under my fingertips, and then go  straight to his abs. Sweet God, Mason looks better than men my age. He's  sin incarnate.

As I push the shirt down his arms, he lets go of my pussy and takes one  step back. I look at him, my eyes roaming over the ropes of muscle in  his torso, and then he's on me again. His hands go straight to my  breasts, his eager fingers squeezing them softly. With a growl, he grabs  at my blouse and, tugging on it, he makes all the buttons pop out,  baring my bra.

My hands dart to his head and, grabbing at his hair, I pull him into me.  He dives in, his mouth going straight to the valley between my tits. As  he runs his tongue across my cleavage, his hands go up my back and,  with a simple flick of his fingers, he undoes the clasp on my bra. The  cups droop over my breasts and, acting fast, he pulls the straps down my  arms. I do the rest, pulling at the bra and throwing it somewhere on  the floor.

"These are mine too," he grins, pressing his fingers over my tits. I  shiver as I feel his hands pressing down on my hard nipples and, my  fingers now back in his hair, I force his head against my body. He  doesn't resist; he comes willingly, parting his lips and wrapping them  tightly around my right nipple.

I sigh heavily, his tongue lapping at my hard tip as he sucks eagerly.  The clouds are already gathering, and I know that I won't leave Mason's  office without being consumed by the storm of pleasure.

Still sucking on my right nipple, he takes his fingers to my left one  and starts to pinch on it. My nerves carry the pain all the way up to my  brain but, by the time it gets there, it has already been transmuted  into pleasure.

"It's so …  good," I moan, the words coming out of my mouth honeyed and soft.

"And it's just the start," he whispers, pulling back from my breasts.  Placing his fingers on my waist, he forces me to turn around; the moment  I'm facing the wall, he grabs the zipper on my skirt and pulls it down.  The fabric falls down my legs, pooling at my feet, and I try to look  back over my shoulder at him; his eyes are glazed, a bonfire of desire  burning there. There's no stopping him now.

He presses his body against mine and, reacting on sheer instinct, I  thrust my ass back against his crotch. I feel the bulging in his pants  fitting between my ass cheeks and, as he grabs at my breasts, I start to  move my hips in an up and down motion.

"You can't wait, can you? You want me inside of you," he says, and I close my eyes and start to grind against him harder.

"I want it," I purr, electricity running up my spine as I feel his shaft  pulsing against my ass. "I want it now," I repeat, anxious for him to  push the thong down my body. I want him to use my naked body like no one  ever has before …  I want him to fuck me, to ravage me, and then I want  to do it all over again.

"You'll wait," he tells me firmly, grabbing at my ass cheeks and  squeezing them. Then, no warning whatsoever, he smack my ass with the  back of his hand. The sound is dry and snappy, and the sting of pain  hits me at once. I cry out and, biting on my lower lip, I wait for him  to do it again. "I'll fuck you …  But first I'll make you beg." He smacks  my ass again, hard enough to leave a mark, and then presses his mouth  against my neck.

"I'll beg … " I pant, thrusting back as hard as I can. "I'll do whatever you want."

"I know that," he whispers, and then takes one step back. I turn to him  and try to kiss him, but he simply grabs me by the hair and forces me to  throw my head back. "On your knees, Becca." The deep sound of his voice  acts like a drug on my brain and, almost immediately, I feel my knees  buckling under the weight of my body. I go down, my hands going straight  for his crotch.

"Go on … " he says, and I take a deep breath. Unbuttoning his pants, I  feel my heart becoming tighter inside of my chest as the shape of his  cock pushes back against my fingers.

Before pulling it out of his boxer briefs, I start by flattening my hand  against it, rubbing it up and down. Before I even know what I'm doing, I  lean into him and, tilting my head to the side, fit my mouth against  his shaft. I start to suck over his boxer briefs, my fingers tightening  up around his shaft.

As the pressure intensifies, I finally hook my fingers on his boxer  briefs and tug on them as hard as I can, sending them with his pants  down to his ankles. I grab his cock immediately, struggling to get my  fingers around his shaft. Swear to God, I didn't even know cocks as big  as these existed; he has to be as thick as a can of Coke.

Flicking my wrist, I start to stroke them with both my hands, moving  them at a steady pace. He groans and then, as he pulls my head in, I go  straight for his glans. I stop stroking him and angle his cock down;  parting my lips, I wrap them around his tip and start to suck. My mouth  moves down his shaft with maddening patience, but I go all the way-no  half measures. It should be physically impossible for me to have all of  his length inside of my mouth, but I don't care about it. I push  through, only stopping when I feel the tip of his cock against the back  of my throat.