Page 24 of Praise Me: President

Those last few words are issued in an emotional rush and my heart responds with a rippling squeeze, a whisper of his name on my lips. I’m not in control of my body when I spring off the desk and wrap my arms around his neck, a sense of homecoming, need, terrible need, overtaking me and my legs climb his hips, his strong arms crushing me to his chest at the same time, our mouths panting and gasping against one another.

“Angel.”

“Pierce.”

“Angel.” His hands fumble with my ponytail, releasing my hair, so he can drag fistfuls of it to his nose, inhaling. “The way I miss you is inhuman.”

I hold onto him for dear life, absorbing his heat, his power, hot tears pressing behind my eyelids. “I miss you so much, too, but—”

“No. No buts. I’m bringing you home to Washington right this second. I know some members of my staff tried to scare you and there might be some bumps ahead, but if you ever trusted me before, Eloise…” He rolls his forehead right to left against mine. “Trust me again now. The nation is going toadoremy wife.”

“I trust you more than anyone…” I trail off, his words finally sinking in and sending a beautiful rush of joy through my system. “W-wife?”

Pierce settles me down on the desk, but stays pressed in close between my legs, neither one of us willing to relinquish an ounce of contact. Still, he manages to unearth a ring box from his pants pocket, holding it aloft between us. “I need you at my side, angel,” he rasps, popping open the black velvet box to reveal a three-stone, princess cut diamond ring, the sight of it making me tremble. “Be my first lady.” He takes out the ring and slides it onto my finger. “Be my only lady, for the rest of time.”

“Are you sure?” I breathe with tears in my eyes, my attention traveling from the ring to the president. “Are you sure I won’t…be your downfall?”

“I’ve never been surer about anyone in my life.” He drops his face into my neck, laughing darkly. Taking my knees in each of his hands, he presses them open. All the way open. Before going to work unfastening the button and fly of his pants. Breathing hard, he leans me back on the desk and yanks aside my panties, pressing the tip of his shaft to my slippery entrance, tapping his hardness there, before sinking in deep, deep, deep, his hoarse moan drowning out my hiccupping sob of his name. “But if you were to be my downfall, little girl,” he says through his teeth, “I’d go with a smile on my face.”

I’m jerked upright and off the desk, impaled by Pierce’s thick intrusion. And holding onto his shoulders, I work my hips back and front, taking him deep with quick slaps of my hips, my movements eager because I’m looking right at his face as it transforms with open-mouthed euphoria. Coupled with the rapid, telltale swelling inside of me, I know my president needs relief badly and my sense of duty towards his pleasure takes over, my walls locking him in hard, my thigh muscles helping me deliver the tight bounces that make him groan like he’s dying, his hands holding my butt in a death grip, giving me even more leverage to please my president.

And oh, my goodness, yes, myself while I’m at it.

“Does that feel good?” I murmur in his ear, nipping it with my teeth.

“You have no idea,” he groans, surging forward to pin me against a row of lockers, rattling the metal locks with increasingly rough drives. “I’ve been craving you for over seventy-two hours. Don’t make me do it again, angel. Say you’ll be my wife.”

“I’ll be your wife,” I heave, my vision blurring with tears, a permanent notch forming in my breast. “I’ll be so much more than that.”

I catch the overflow of happiness and relief in his eyes a split second before he kisses me hard. “How much more could you possibly be?” he rasps, working me relentlessly against the lockers.

I bring his forehead down to mine, rubbing our wet mouths together. “I can be a woman who loves romance…and you give me that so well.” I lick us into a filthy kiss that makes him throb inside of me and I whisper against his panting lips, “But I’m also a good girl. I know when the president wants to fuck me like a little slut.” He sucks in a breath, his thickness jerking and growing even more between my thighs, his eyes flashing with something predatory. A side to him no one will ever see, except me. “Do it, Daddy.”

He upthrusts so deeply and with such naked hunger, my legs start to shake uncontrollably, his husky growls echoing in my ears for the rest of the day.

epilogue

. . .

Pierce

Four Years Later

I try notto make it obvious that I’m glancing at my watch, but I’ve been dressed in this Santa suit for hours and the damn thing is getting kind of itchy. A steady line of children has been filing through the crowded East Room at the official White House holiday party since 7 pm, eager to sit on “Santa’s” lap and tell me what they want for Christmas.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s a nice thing do for the kids of my staffers, but I haven’t seen my own twin girls in a few days, as they’ve been in France on a diplomatic trip with Eloise, and I’m missing my family like hell. It was a long year campaigning for reelection, but thankfully I won a second term by an overwhelming majority.

Now, I want nothing more than to stop shaking hands and talking about myself and settle into a private Christmas with my girls.

Especially my wife. God, I miss my wife so much, I don’t even feel like myself.

“There are two more children eager to meet you, sir, then we’ll call it a night,” says Rodrick, one of the interns.

“Send them up,” I say, shielding a yawn with my forearm.

I’m expecting two strangers to approach me.

Instead, my three-year-old twins, Julie and Danielle, come bursting from behind one of several ten-foot Christmas trees lining the East Room, dressed in matching red dresses with big, white bows tying up their rich brown hair, so like their mother’s. They jump into my lap simultaneously and I scoop them up into my arms, the pressure in my throat catching me off guard. “Girls. My girls.” I hold them close, absorbing the sound of their laughter like the dry sponge I’ve become in the absence of my favorite three people. “When did you get back?”

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