by Aubrey Irons
Oh my God…
I moan deeply, the sound almost primal as I feel his finger start to slide into the place I’ve never had anyone. And it’s strange, and new, but as he continues to fuck me with slow, deliberate strokes and rubs my clit with his other hand, I can feel the newness morph into something insane.
I’m clawing at the edges of my sanity as the sensations of being so full and the jaw-dropping dirtiness of it all starts to wash over me. What we’re doing is so fucking illicit, and so wrong, and his cock and his finger feel so fucking good, that it’s all I can do to even remember to breathe.
I’m on my knees, in the Lincoln Bedroom of the White House, with my ass up in the air while my stepbrother fucks me with his big cock and slides a finger into my ass.
And I’m loving every second of it.
It’s wrong, and filthy, and so fucking naughty, and as his cock hits that sweet spot just inside again and again, and his fingers tease my clit in circle after circle, I know I’m going to go crashing over the edge at any second.
When it hits, it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Like a nuclear bomb going off. My whole body suddenly goes absolutely stiff and my mouth flies open in a silent scream before the world shatters around me.
I scream into the pillows, my whole body shaking and writhing under him as orgasm after orgasm roars through me. I’m coming again and again, literally clawing at the sheets and screaming my release into the bed as I feel him roar behind me. He drives in deep and then I feel him throb within me as pulse after pulse of his hot cum erupts bare inside me.
I’m gasping for breath and feeling my vision swim as I collapse onto the bed, trembling in the aftershocks. But he’s there, moving to lay beside me, wrapping my shaking, shuddering body in his strong arms.
“Holy…shit…” I manage to mumble out, feeling his rumbling chuckle as he holds me close to him, enveloping me in his warmth.
“Told you you could trust me.”
I groan, nestling back into him as my pulse finally starts to approach something resembling normal. “Remind me to trust you like that more often.”
31.
The gun ricochets in my hand, the thud of release echoing through my mind and bringing me right back to Baghdad. I squeeze slowly, pumping shot after shot down the length of the shooting gallery deep in the bowels of the White House. Trying to let the pent up frustration, anxiety, and memories explode out the barrel and far away from me.
I don’t enjoy shooting because I like guns, I do this because it makes me remember things no one should really forget.
I reload and wind another paper target down the field, leveling the gun in front of my eyes and lining up before I pull back and hear the crack of release.
Holding the weapon, and letting it be an egress for the traces of hate and rage and fear still rattling around inside of me keeps me sane on days like this. On days when the memory of that hell is a little stronger than usual, and the names of those I lost are etched in crystal clarity across my mind. I need to escape.
Even if I never can, or should, forget.
When the third clip is empty, I lower the gun and safety it before putting it down on the table in front of me, letting the air in my lungs out in a thin stream.
“Is this why you called me down here?”
I grin broadly at the sound of her voice, even before I turn to see her leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest. “Nah, just felt like seeing how fast you’d get down here if I texted you.”
She rolls her eyes. “You are ridiculous, sometimes, you know.”
“Yeah,” I grin, “I know. Thanks for coming down though.”
Truth be told, I wanted her here because on days like this when the demons come knocking at the door, it’s best for me not to be alone with them. And somehow Maddie Adams has this calming, soothing effect on me, I’ve realized.
Well, no, that’s a lie. She has a blood-pumping, hormone-spiking, erection-inducing effect on me, but I will gladly take that over regret and bad memories any day.
I nod at the gun.”Wanna take a few shots?”
Maddie gives me a look. “Do I seriously look like a gun person?”
I shrug. “You don’t look like a girl who would let me do half the things we’ve done.”
Middies blushes bright pink and rolls her eyes. “You’re the worst.”
I grin and step towards her. “I know, but you love it.”
She bats me away playfully. “Do not.”
“I’ve got another gun you can play with down here if you want,” I say with a wink.
Maddie quickly darts her eyes up to the very obvious security camera in the corner of the room. “Hunter—”
I cough and downplay my move to pull her into me as just a playful ruffle of her hair instead. I doubt anyone’s, watching, but you never know.
“Besides,” she says, “we have that thing.”
“Yeah,” I say, the sudden burst of ardor cooling as quickly as it flared up inside of me. “Yeah.”
The “thing” being the tour of the D.C. VA hospital, since Maddie’s picked that as one of the causes she wants to get behind. I mean, of course I’m going, and not just because she is, but it’s the reason the past is so fresh in my mind today.
I glance at the time. “Time to go, huh?”
“You don’t—” She gives me a soft look, her hand coming up to squeeze my arm. “You don’t have to come, you know. I get it.”
I shake my head. “Nah, it’s good for me to see it.”
It’s good because I don’t want to forget, because forgetting means failing those we lost all over again.
I smile at her as I hold out my arm. “Shall we?”
It’s raining when we leave and the wind cuts into us as we wrap our jackets closer and run to the waiting motorcade. The agents have barely shut the tinted-window door when Maddie grabs me by the collar and sears a kiss across my mouth. It’s not anything hot and heavy, or lusty, or anything like that. It’s sweet, and tender, and full of something fierce, and I’m suddenly losing myself in her as she holds me tightly.
“What was that for?” I say slowly when she pulls away from me.
“For being incredible, that’s what.”
I grin. “Well, I mean, preaching to the choir princess.”
Maddie rolls her eyes and pushes me playfully. “No, dummy, I just mean for being incredible in there. It was amazing to watch you talk to those guys after what you and them have gone through and seen.”
I nod slowly and watch the rain through the window as the car rolls through downtown D.C.
“It’s not easy, but it’s important,” I say, echoing my thoughts from earlier. “It’s important to remember, so the ones that can’t aren’t ever forgotten.”
I turn back, and she’s staring at me with wonder in her eyes, shaking her head. “I’ve mentioned that it’s a huge turn on when you talk like that, right?”
I laugh as I kiss her, losing myself all over again in those lips of hers. “Let’s talk about you in there.”
She shrugs, “It’s just one of the charity things my mom set up.”
I shake my head. “Nope, sorry; you don’t get to downplay it that easy.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you were amazing in there.”
“Oh,” she makes a flippant gesture with her hand. “I just like talking to people.”
“Yeah, well you’re really fucking good at that.” I raise a brow at her. “Ever think about following mom’s footsteps and going into politics?”
Maddie snorts. “Yeah, right.”
“Hey, I’m serious!” I grin, sliding close to her in the sequestered backseat of the SUV, draping an arm over her. “I think you’d be great.”
“It’s a broken system.”
“You could change it,” I murmur into her ear, letting my lips trail over her neck.
“You are very convincing, Mr. Ryan,” she says with a grin, letting her eyes close as sh
e sighs at my kisses. “Maybe you’re the politician here.”
“Couldn’t do it,” I say quickly.
“No?”
“Nah, I’m pretty sure I’d fail the vetting process pretty hard after the scandalous affair I’m having with the President’s daughter.”
Maddie erupts into giggles as I tickle her, before she lapses into a whimpered sigh as I pull her into my lap and kiss her neck.
“We should probably put seat-belts on,” she murmurs. “You’re a terrible influence.”
“The worst.”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
32.
“I’ve got a surprise for you.”
I jump at the sound of his voice and whirl in my chair. “Jesus, where did you come from?”
Hunter winks and nods at the bookcase at the back of the library where I’ve been pouring over grant applications for the non-profits my mother gave me to look over.
I roll my eyes as he wraps his arms around the sides of the chair, running his hands up and down my arms as he presses his face into my neck.
“It might be nice to try coming in through the normal door for once, weirdo.”
He laughs, “How often did you wish you had secret passageways or a hidden room when you were a kid?”
“All the time?”
“Exactly,” he chuckles. “This place is full of them, and I plan on acting out on those fantasies every chance I get.”
His hands slide up my arms and over my chest, and I blush as he cups my breasts through my shirt, his thumbs magically finding right where my nipples are. “Amongst other fantasies, of course.”
“You’re incorrigible,” I murmur, letting my eyes close.
“I don’t see you trying that hard,” his voice husks into my ear.
Suddenly he pulls away, and I pout as I turn to look up at him, “Tease. So what was this surprise you were just talking up?”
He grins, “Later, tonight after our parents are gone.” I wrinkle my nose and he snorts. “You know what I mean. After your mom and my dad head off for the UN thing in New York.”
He winks at me, and then he’s turning to head towards the door.
“Hey, wait a second,” I stand, still feeling the buzz of his hands on my breasts. “Where are you going? And what’s the surprise?”
“Wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you now would it?” He arches his eyebrows at me and grins before he slips out the door.
The regular one, I notice.
I still haven’t seen or heard from him later that night, so I grab the secure phone he gave me and send a quick text.
Get cold feet? ;)
The response is instant.
I was just waiting for you. Knock knock.
I jump as I hear the actual knock on the door to my rooms.
If that’s not you I’m going to freak out.
Haha, it’s the service help, just answer it.
“Ms. Adams?” I open the door to a smiling older woman who I recognize as part of the general staff around the living quarters of the White House.
“Yes?”
She smiles at me. “The items you requested, miss.” She lifts the basket box in her hands.
“I—”
The phone buzzes in my hand.
Just take it, dummy.
I cough and look around, as if I’m going to see Hunter hiding somewhere nearby. But of course I don’t. I turn back to the woman and thank her as I take the box.
Ok, what is it?
All part of the master plan. Soak, relax, put it on, and meet me at the bookshelf in the Jackson office in an hour.
What? I don’t understand any of his directions, but something tells me I know Hunter well enough to know I’m going to get nothing else from him even if ask. I toss the phone on the bed and sit the box down before opening it.
The first thing I pull out is one of those fancy, bubble-bath bombs, and I grin just seeing it. The master bath of the Lincoln bedroom has this massive tub that I’ve been dying to try out and just haven’t yet. I furrow my brow as I smile, wondering how the heck Hunter even knows that.
Up next is a split bottle of a very nice vintage pinot, probably from the White House’s very own cellars, an opener, and a glass, with a note that just says “To sip while you soak.”
But it’s the next thing inside that catches my eye, and I bite my lip as I pull out the smaller, solid black box, wrapped in a black silk ribbon. I pull at the knot and slide the top off before I feel the flush creep up over my cheeks.
I’ve owned some nice lingerie, or at least I’d like to think I have. But the matching black lace set inside is like nothing I’ve ever even seen before. Sheer, sexy, and silky; darkly forbidden and erotic in that way that elicits a sensual response just looking at it. I note with a bush that the whole thing is entirely see-through, but then, you don’t wear something like this to be modest, you wear it to excite. The note inside the box reads: “To replace the ones I ripped. Best worn with heels.”
I grin, feeling the wicked glow start to creep through my body. I glance into the box this all came in to see one final package, this one smaller though also wrapped in black velvet ribbon.
The lingerie was exciting, but nothing prepares me for the throb of pure desire that thunders through my body when I slip open the box.
It’s a mask; a black, matte, demur mask, exactly like the ones from the night we met. It’s almost hot in my hands. An illicit tingle teases from my fingertips, up my arm, and into my body just from touching it. I’m wet instantly, and it’s almost sexual as I run my fingers over the edge of it.
I start to shrug my clothes off, feeling my blood pumping quickly as I nearly sprint to the bathroom and turn on the hot water.
The White House is quiet at night, in that weird sort of empty way where you feel like everyone is off somewhere you should be but aren’t. I feel scandalous, like I’m trespassing or something in my own home.
Of course, part of that feeling might come from the fact that I’m slipping through empty hallways wearing a back knee-length trench coat, heels, and pretty much nothing else but the scandalously sexy lingerie Hunter sent me.
I feel like some sort of sexy spy, and honestly I have no idea why I’ve done anything in Hunter’s notes or texts. I don’t know why I have this compulsion to say “yes” to him, why I want to do things like walk basically naked down the hallways of the White House late at night.
It feels as though I’m on my way to some sort of wicked, passionate affair. Like I’m some sort of mistress of something, stalking down the hallowed halls of this house trailing scandal in my wake.
Which, honestly, is sort of what this is, even if I don’t really know what to label it.
I slip into the Jackson office, empty of course, and pause in the semi-darkness of the dim room as I stare at the bookcase that could, and would, lead me to him. I know the book to pull, and the code to punch in, and even how many feet to walk in the dark that lies beyond it to get to him.
But I pause.
I take a shaky breath in the dark of the room, knowing full well what continuing means. Leaving right now is also an option: running back to my room, and pretending I never agreed to this is a path I could choose right now.
Until I walk through that door, I still have the option to walk away from this madness. I still have the choice to step away and leave this crazy affair exactly where it is.
I could walk away from Hunter right now, and let the chips fall where they will.
I breathe, staring right at the copy of “A Moveable Feast” sitting there on the shelf, hiding the keypad. I know exactly where the next step leads. I know that taking that next step and putting one foot in front of the other puts me one step closer to falling.
It puts me one step closer to admitting that this is so much more than just “having fun”, or “experimenting”.
I pull the book and punch the code, and the bookcase swings open.
This is it, I think to myself, feelin
g the shiver run through me as I step into the dark passageway.
There’s no turning back here. With every step, my chance for escape and chance to convince myself that this is some experiment, or some sort of fling, slips further away.
This is real, and this is happening. Because the reality is that every step down this dark hallway takes me exactly where I want to be.
I push the door at the end of the hallway open, and suddenly I’m gasping at the sight that awaits me.
The entire damn Oval Office is lit up with candles; easily a hundred of them. The glow flickers across the room like firelight, glinting off framed pictures and casting shadows across the storied, historic room. I step into the office and close the door behind me, and it’s then that I lock eyes with Hunter.
He’s dressed in dark black pants and a crisp white linen shirt, open at the neck. He grins and stands as I enter, and I blush as I feel his eyes roam over me.
“You came.”
My jaw drops, and my eyes go wide as I stare, taking in the transformation of the room from strict and formal to an unbelievably romantic scene. I mean, candles; holy shit.
“I—” I take a breath as I take in the glowing magic of the room around me. “I never imagined this room could look—”
“Romantic?”
I grin as he steps out from behind the desk and winks at me.
“How did you even pull this off?”
He chuckles, “I was on the Secret Service and I’m the new crown prince of the White House.”
I raise an eyebrow. “So?”
He grins. “And I told Chris who’s on duty and owes me a favor that I wanted to bring a girl in here.”
My jaw drops and I stare wide-eyed at him. “You TOLD him?!”
Hunter laughs as he moves closer to me, slinking towards me like some sort of jungle cat stalking his prey. “I didn’t tell him it was you, obviously.”
He’s right in front of me then, and his eye blaze into mine as his hand come up to rest on my hips. “You look fucking incredible, by the way.”