The President's Secret Baby: A Second Chance Romance

by Gage Grayson

  She's pulling at my heartstrings a little bit, mentioning the bank and how they took over the land. This is virtually all my company does all day every day. We've taken over so many spaces that it's hard to count.

  At this moment, I'm very glad that Katie doesn't know the truth about me. And yet I do know the truth about her, and there's a treachery that lies between us still. It will never go away...unless, of course, somehow it comes out.

  Will it ever come out? What will happen then?

  Instead of torturing myself by thinking of the day when she will learn the truth, that I've been spying on her this entire time, I bury those thoughts.

  I pull Katie away from her cooking and onto the bed. I start to kiss her and to undress her, doing the things I've been dying to make good on all day.

  Katy

  I dress the trout with herbs and spices.

  I don’t like cooking fancy, because food is usually the last thing on my mind when I’m working. Plus I grew up poor, and I had to make do with few ingredients.

  I wonder what Marcus thinks of this…me cooking for him, my sparse apartment, everything.

  Compared to his elegant apartment, my place must seem like a very bland box. While he has art adorning every wall, tasteful furniture from the likes of Pottery Barn and Crate and Barrel, and even a full set of dishware...my place is decidedly less designed.

  I have two plates, one for me and one for a guest. I have virtually never had another person over, so Marcus is actually the first person I can consider to be a guest.

  My place is sparsely decorated because I’m always ready to run, ready to move, just in case my identity is ever discovered.

  Hacking is no easy job. It’s highly illegal. Especially since I’m stealing millions of dollars from huge corporations. There’s no point in dressing up my apartment or in leaving more clues that need to be had as to my existence.

  I’m used to living as a ghost. I’m naturally invisible to society, and that’s the way I like it.

  Growing up on the streets taught me about how important it is to remain invisible. The cops came down hard on the poor neighborhoods. I learned at a very early age to just keep to myself and remain under the radar.

  It’s a good thing I don’t care about pretenses, otherwise I might feel embarrassed about my place. As it is, I don’t mind.

  I could be a multimillionaire by now if I kept all the money that I stole, or even just some of it. But money doesn’t impress me.

  “Do you like your fish well done?” I ask him.

  “Whatever you’re having.”

  “I would apologize for the state of my apartment, but I really don’t care,” I say.

  “I can see that.”

  He doesn’t seem totally surprised by my living situation. Activism doesn’t pay well, after all.

  He gets up and comes to stand behind me in the kitchen. I’m trying to concentrate on frying his fish, but when he buries his face in my neck from behind, the thrill of having him touch me like that sends waves of shivers down my body.

  He turns off the stove, leaving the fish to fend for itself, and pulls me towards the bed. I’m at least glad that I make it a rule to have nice bedding.

  He pulls me down on the soft duvet and kisses me. We make out for a long time, and I find that I’m even more attracted to him after having seen how he did today.

  The fact that he has a sense of compassion for other people is such a turn-on. It’s my life’s work to help those people, so having seen Marcus be so natural in that setting made me want him more.

  He pulls my hands up above my head and says, “Keep them there.”

  He proceeds to undress me with his teeth. He pulls layer upon layer of clothing off of my body so that I’m spread eagle before him wearing absolutely nothing.

  “Wow,” he marvels. “You’re absolutely fucking gorgeous.”

  I’m naked and vulnerable, subject to his touch and his every whim and desire.

  I’m his to take. And one look into his explosive eyes that are alight with lust makes me understand that this is going to be an experience I won’t ever forget.

  He takes off his shirt, and I admire the view of his rippling abs and chiselled muscles that are carved and defined in every which way. He’s so handsome, and I can tell there’s also a fire burning within him that I also feel.

  He brings one leg of mine up to his shoulder and proceeds to trickle small kisses down my ankle, down my leg, until his face is between my thighs and I’m quaking with need.

  I move my hands down and so I can grip the sheets in pure expectation, but he pulls up and says, “Don’t do that. I want your arms above your head. Keep them there.”

  I reluctantly do as he says, and I try to grip the headboard instead. There’s a certain satisfaction that comes with obeying him. I would never obey anybody else that wasn’t him. He has this power over me, and somehow it feels right to follow his lead, because I know that ultimately, he’ll lead me to having a wild orgasm.

  I hold the headboard and arch my back as he goes to town on my pussy. I’m wet―and getting wetter by the second as his tongue plunges in and out.

  He expertly licks my clit, and I swoon in pleasure. He keeps up a steady beat, and the intoxicating vibration is what I need to release.

  I come hard into his mouth, and he licks up my juices as though it’s some kind of nectar. He’s ravenous for me, spurred on by my hot desire, which he just witnessed and pulled from my body.

  Every time he makes me come, I know that I venture a little deeper into unsafe territory because it allows him to know how very badly I want him to consume me.

  In these moments, there’s no façade or trickery that I can keep up. He sees all my truth, and there’s no hiding from him the fact that he’s the focus of all my arousal.

  I am especially vulnerable in this position being spread out so wide before his hungry mouth.

  He plunges two fingers inside of me, and I feel another wave of climax start to rise. He has me beholden to him, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. In this moment, I would do anything to ensure this next orgasm goes off without a hitch.

  So when he says, “Tell me you’re mine. Say it.” I don’t hesitate or stumble on my words. I just give him what he wants.

  “Yes. Fuck yes! I’m yours,” I cry.

  Once he’s satisfied with my answer, he circles his two big fingers around the walls of my cunt making me cry out in glorious agony for more.

  Then he smiles darkly while pressing those perfect fingers over my G-spot―and I’m toast.

  I come fiercely and explode all over his hand. My pussy tightens, and yet he keeps on pleasuring me, forcing my G-spot to erupt again in another round of mini-orgasms that roll one into another.

  No man has made me come like this. It’s an experience I’ll never forget. My body is convulsing, and I never knew it was possible to have this deep and vigorous of an orgasm.

  My whole body is peaking with arousal. I feel like I could continue to come for an eternity. Waves upon waves of pleasure force me to shut my eyes tight and try to take in the reality of being so thoroughly fucked…

  I feel like I could pass out―and I nearly do.

  At last, he removes his expert fingers from inside of me. Then he traces them on my lips, forcing me to taste myself. I suck at his fingers and want for more.

  Even though my body is still wavering in silent delight of having a delightful climax, I find myself always thinking of his giant cock and how badly I want it inside of me.

  That’s the thing about a huge cock: it’s easy to become slave to the feeling of it torturing your tight pussy.

  Even having come so hard, and even though I feel like I could pass out right here and sleep for 12 hours, I also know that my craving is not yet satisfied.

  I shut my eyes and imagine his cock entering me right after I’ve come so hard. It’s a feeling that’s matched by no other.

  And to my delight and greatest fantasy, he makes my dr
eams come true by unzipping and pulling off his pants to reveal that huge cock.

  He doesn’t hold back or force me to suck it, but he instead slides it into my aching, dripping pussy that’s still vibrating.

  He enters me at the perfect time, and I feel the ridge of the tip of his cock slide against my now engorged G-spot and that’s it...I’m done for.

  Marcus

  I’m making her come with just the tip of my cock.

  It’s an awesome sight.

  She wants me so badly that just the tip is making her come wildly. She’s moaning and grabbing onto the sheets. She’s clawing at anything she can find. She’s in another world.

  I did that.

  I’ve got her nicely primed because she’s come so many times already. And now I’m finally giving her what she really wants.

  And it’s my cock she wants.

  I push in a little further, and she goes wild.

  “God, fuck yes. What are you doing to me?”

  “That’s it, baby, just take it in slow,” I say.

  I know I’m a lot to handle for any woman. Especially Katy because she’s so small. I’ve got her stretched out her max, and I haven’t even put it in all the way yet.

  I sink it in deeper and deeper, and with every movement, she cries for me louder and harder. I wonder what the neighbors think? Fuck, I don’t even care.

  All I care about is the fact that Katy is going fucking insane for me. It’s evidence of how much she’s wanted me all along. While she might try to play it off like she’s aloof, this moment of her going crazy for me is all the evidence I need to know that she’s as into this as I am.

  I go in deeper, and I make sure to take it slow so that she can adjust to the size of me. I push in and pump out and repeat the process until I get her nice and opened up.

  She’s arching her back and fingering herself, trying to help make it easier to take in my entire manhood. I know she’s faded into a world of coming and not coming so that she can no longer tell the difference. It’s all so fucking glorious.

  I finally sink in all the way, and she cries my name.

  “Fuck, I don’t think I can take it. You’re just too big.”

  I don’t move but give her a moment to adequately orient herself. Once I get going, she’ll be overtaken by pleasure, and the pain will subside.

  “It’s okay, baby, just take your time.” I try to soothe her.

  I push it in deep and slide it out, and she’s moaning a guttural kind of sound. She wants it but it’s a lot. I get it.

  And it’s my absolute pleasure to give it to her because I know this is what she really wants. She’d be disappointed with anything less.

  She fingers her clit, and I feel the wetness start to surround my cock. I look at her tits and the way she’s splayed out across the bed, eager for only me, and it’s just too much for me.

  I’m going to have to fuck her without holding back. There’s no other way for me now.

  She’s so wet that I know she wants it. And I know she’ll be able to take it just fine, especially when I get going and establish that nice rhythm that will help her come again and again.

  “This is it, baby. I can’t hold back any longer,” I say through gritted teeth.

  I thrust into her deeply and it feels so fucking good as she tightens around my cock. Pressure builds up inside me and while I’m trying to think about her, all that’s really happening in my brain is the fact that I’m getting the sweetest pussy I’ve ever had.

  She screams in pleasure, and I know she’s loving every second of it. I find that rhythmic pace, and I’m hitting up against her G-spot. I pull her up, and she’s hugging my torso, trying to manage the length of my cock.

  We’re clasped together in an embrace that neither of us wants to break free from. I’m pounding into her, and she’s getting tighter around me. I lean down and kiss her beautiful lips, and at that moment, I know there’s no more holding back.

  I gasp and pump my seed right into her, and it mingles with her own essence.

  Our lips are interlocked, and both of us are just kissing each other and trying to understand this strange connection that’s taken over both of our rational minds.

  I’m coming hard, and I’m practically in the cosmos.

  So is she, I think. I can’t tell anymore whether she’s in the middle of an orgasm or just building up for another one. Women are so fucking lucky.

  We hold each other and kiss like that for a long time. With our embrace, we’re saying everything that words can’t express.

  Through the tender way our lips engage, we’re saying all the unspoken things that can’t yet come to light but have been brewing just under the surface.

  We care for each other.

  At least, I believe we do. I don’t know for sure that she cares about me beyond just the length of my cock, but I can’t imagine her being like this with any other guy. What we have is unique, and for me to be saying that…well, it should tell you a lot.

  In a normal situation, I’d be cleaning up by now and trying to usher myself out of the door. But instead, I feel comfortable here in Katy’s apartment. I feel like it’s where I’m meant to be. Wherever she is, is where I’m most at home.

  When I’m not with her, my thoughts are about her. I constantly wonder what she’s doing and if she’s safe. I might be possessive, yes, but it’s only because I care.

  She finally pulls away from my lingering kiss and says, “That was so good. Am I right? That was the best you’ve ever had, wasn’t it?”

  I slide out of her at last but lean down for one more kiss. The taste of her is erotic.

  “Yes, baby, that was fucking good.”

  She gets up, and I watch her delightful, heart-shaped ass go to the refrigerator. She gets us a couple of beers. And good thing, too, because the cool liquid is the perfect antidote to squelch my beating heart still on fire with lust for Katy.

  She sits down next to me on the bed, naked. I look at her and just enjoy the sight of her beautiful body set against the austere apartment.

  She’s beautiful. She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever known. And I’m so happy that I get to be the one to fuck her.

  She cracks open our beers and says, “To us.”

  We clink bottles, and I take a long sip of the Heineken.

  I lean back against the many soft pillows that line her headboard. And then I say, “Katy, I just don’t understand you. You have absolutely no furniture or decor of any kind, and yet your bedding is top-of-the-line. What’s with that?”

  She laughs at my statement, and I take in the moment to see the way she lights up. I would do anything to make her happy, to see that smile flash across her elegant face again and again.

  “You noticed,” she says. “I just have a thing for bedding. I can’t sleep unless I’m super comfortable. I like to feel like I’m floating on a cloud.”

  She’s right about that, for sure. I can tell the sheets are at least a thousand dollars. They mimic the ones I have in my penthouse.

  I’m thinking this cash comes from her hacking jobs, but I can’t help but wonder that, if she steals so much money, why is she not living in a greater state of luxury?

  I think about what happened today, going to that poor part of town with her, and I realize that to Katy, money just doesn’t matter.

  Except when it comes to sheets, that is.

  I love that she seems to know and understand the real side of life. Nothing about her is phony or fake.

  She’s a far cry from the women I meet, the models and actresses who are out and about at the clubs of New York. It’s a totally different scene from the women painted and plucked, wearing the latest fashion, thinking that the superficial bullshit is the best part of life.

  That’s not the way I see it, and I can tell it’s not even close to the way Katy does.

  Maybe it’s the fact that she hasn’t yet revealed her true identity to me. In fact, I’m not sure she ever will. That’s a conversation for another
day.

  But I know that Katy has substance and that she can hold a conversation―and to me, right now, all that combined with her impeccable beauty is the perfect potion for me to fall in love.

  Katy

  Marcus is lying on the soft pillows that adorn my bed.

  I’m glad that at least someone besides myself can enjoy them.

  He’s taken notice of the fact that they’re about the only glamorous thing in my apartment. Besides my high-tech computer set up, I’ve got bedding and…that’s about it.

  Of course, I can’t reveal the reason why. How could I ever tell him the truth? What would I say?

  Hey Marcus, I’m a hacker. I steal millions of dollars from big banks and financial corporations. I don’t have any stuff because I’m always on the edge of my seat wondering if I’m going to need to run away.

  If I told him that, it would be the fastest way to get him out of my life. People are always afraid of my truth. I found that out the hard way.

  When I even try to mention what I do to someone, obviously omitting the fact that I’m a burglar, they often run.

  People don’t understand my life, and that’s fine. It’s fine because I know in the end, I’m helping a lot of people by donating to organizations that need the funds. It’s my mission in life to help people who are less fortunate like I was.

  The fact that I grew up so poor without a family never escapes me for one day.

  When I see a father hold his daughter, I get jealous because I didn’t have that. When I see a mother doting on her children, I feel envious because I didn’t have that. When people talk about going home for the holidays and being together on Christmas, I feel left out because I have nothing of the sort.

  Being so different from most of society makes one build certain walls of comfort. I know who I am, and I know that I can always take care of myself. These are my walls.

  I know that I can’t be with one person or in one place for too long because I might get in trouble with the cops. These are my boundaries.