Page 8 of Praise Me: President
But even though I’m well aware I need to keep our relationship above board, I can’t help wanting to know more about Eloise. Personally. In fact, I want to know everything, right down to her preferred brand of fucking toothpaste. Which is a capital P Problem. “What would you be doing right now if you weren’t in politics, Ms. Rogers?”
She wets her lips and the tip of my cock dampens itself, too, because Jesus, I can see the tiniest hint of the crotch of her panties now. Lily white cotton lace. Son of a bitch.
“Before I started working in politics—and while I was attending Villanova—I worked at my dad’s shop. In Philly. He owns a crêperie.” She smiles fondly over the mention of her father. “Crepes are his one true love. My mom is the other woman in his life. Do you like crepes?”
“I’m afraid to tell you this, Ms. Rogers.” I tuck my tongue into my cheek. “I’ve never even had a crepe.”
She gasps, turning in her seat, giving me an even better glimpse of heaven, lithe thighs leading to her hot little pussy. She’s afraid of dying from a helicopter crash, but I’m more worried about my cock being strangled to death by my zipper.
“Can we land this bird in Philly real quick? My father will make you the best—”
We hit a bump—a big one. The helicopter drops several yards, before bouncing over a few more patches of rough air. And with Eloise suddenly the color of a ghost, I don’t even hesitate. As soon as the turbulence passes, I unbuckle her belt and drag her sideways into my lap, cuddling her as closely as possible to try and quell her shaking. “Nothing to be scared of, angel. I’ve got you.”
“I didn’t like that.”
“I know,” I croon, stroking her hair away from her face. “Do you believe me when I tell you it’s normal?”
“I’d believe anything you say,” she breathes, without a hint of sarcasm.
She truly means it, with her whole heart.
Eloise already told me yesterday that I inspired her to get into politics, but the more I get to know her, the more I feel a responsibility to live up to her expectations. If I’m the good man she believes me to be, I would put this young woman back in her seat, instead of rubbing my knuckles gently along her jawline. There’s another bump, however, and she whimpers, burrowing her face into my neck and there’s no letting go. Hell no.
I notice her high heels have fallen off and her feet are dangling down by my shin, her toenails painted bright pink. Why does that raise a lump in my throat? “Tell me more about the crepes, angel,” I rasp against her ear, breathing in the vanilla and flowers scent of her hair.
“Um.” She snuggles closer, the position of her ass very affective, rubbing my stiff cock up against my stomach, making me throb like a son of a bitch. “Well, I’m trying to think of which one you should sample first. Are you a savory or sweet person?”
“I used to say savory,” I say, cupping her knee, letting my thumb brush side to side against the inside. “But I’m leaning toward sweet these days.”
She hums, way too innocent to catch my meaning, thank God. “Then I think you’ll have to start with his cult classic—peaches and cream.”
“Yeah, I could go for some of that right now,” I say under my breath, barely holding on to my control.Distract yourself from how perfectly she fits in your arms.If one of the agents turned around right now, I’m sure there wouldn’t be any leaks to the press about President McAlister cuddling his youth council secretary—they’re way too discreet for that—but I’d probablylose some of their respect. Honor and respect are everything where I come from. Where I’ve been throughout my life. Still, I can’t seem to let her go. “What’s your favorite crepe on the menu?”
“I like the tropical flavors,” she says, lifting her head, and fuck, I’m so ruined with those big blue eyes trained on me, my heart booming and sawing in my ribcage. “Like banana and mango.” Her gaze travels down to my mouth. “Although the mango can get so sticky, you know?”
“Sticky,” I echo, mentally already buried inside of her up to my balls. “Sounds like you’re a messy girl, Eloise.”
“Am I?” We gravitate closer until I can feel her sweet breath on my mouth, our foreheads a hint away from touching, her incredible ass pushing down on my cock, bouncing up and down every so often, due to the turbulence. Then, “I haven’t had the chance to find out if I’m a messy girl or not, sir,” she says. “I’ve been waiting.”
If I’m not mistaken, the living, breathing temptation on my lap just informed me she’s a virgin and she’s been waiting for me to do something about it. And quote me on this, there isn’t a red-blooded man alive who could keep himself from kissing a woman when she says something that sexually charged to your face, especially when she’s wearing thigh-high stockings and a short skirt.
“Fuck it,” I pant, cradling the petal-soft side of her face and going in for the kill—and within a split second, her mouth ends up killing me instead. I’m a victim and a conqueror all at once. She’s so goddamn succulent, all I can think is peaches and her unfucked pussy dripping all over my chin as I lick hungrily into her mouth to massage her tongue, raking my mouth up, down, pulling away a centimeter to tease her, growling with satisfaction when she follows and drags my face back down, opening her mouth eagerly, her ass restless on my cock, circlingand rubbing, driving me to the fucking brink. “Keep your hips still, angel, or I’ll need to change my pants,” I growl against her ear.
She stares back at me, delirious, eyes glazed. “Tell me how to serve you, sir.”
This is a dream. This has to be a dream. “Let’s get one thing straight, Eloise. If we slept together, you’d be the first to get served.” I run my thumb across her cheekbone, humbled when she leans into my touch, so trusting. “I’m just a man. Not some god to be served. A real man is man enough to serve his woman. Don’t ever forget that.”
Eloise looks deep in thought for a moment, then nods, our mouths sliding back together, opening to let our tongues meet and indulge. Swear to Christ, there is nothing hotter on this earth than this girl and her sense of wonder, her open enjoyment of every stroke, every nuzzle of our noses and lips—and fuck, it’s not long until she’s turned on like a V8 engine, growing more confident by the second, her palms riding up and down my pecs, fingers tugging on my hair, her body twisting as if she’d straddle me with the slightest encouragement. Hell, even I am beginning to forget we’re in the company of the Secret Service, that flesh between her thighs calling my fucking name.
“Tell me it’s wet,” I demand, slanting my mouth over hers. “Tell me it’s so fucking wet and you’re thinking about me pushing your legs open and licking it.”
Bedroom eyes blink slowly at me, the tip of her tongue tracing the swell of my bottom lip. “Just thinking about you makes me wet, s-so you imagine what it’s like right now.” I’m pretty sure my brain is already leaking out of my ears, but then she adds, “Don’t worry. I brought five changes of panties, Mr. President.” She bites her lip, having the nerve to blush like a schoolgirl. “I know what being around you does to me.”
Horny doesn’t begin to describe me right now.
This is scorched earth. My cock is curved and throbbing. I’m sweating under my clothes. Despite the fact that I would use my mouth on Eloise before I even considered taking my dick out, I can’t help but imagine railing her with a vengeance up against a goddamn wall, her pink toenails digging into my ass while she calls me Mr. President. I could take her into the bathroom right now and—
There’s a loud cough in front of me. “Five minutes to touchdown, sir.”