My pulse spiked when I saw him.
Tall and lean and handsome in that academic way, his coattails flapped behind him as though he’d just stepped out of that preppy university in Oxford that he’d once attended. I was looking at the Charles Wildwood, the Prime Minister himself.
He glanced furtively around at the few people in attendance, his gaze flitting to James but not showing recognition, which I found strange. After all, we’d been in his office. I’d sat at the Prime Minister’s desk as James had told me that he owned this man.
That grand PM stood about ten feet away from the podium, checking his phone. Glancing over at Ballad, I was surprised his ego hadn’t been bruised that he’d not received a wave from the Prime Minister.
With a loud bang the doors were closed by a young man wearing round glasses, looking preppy in his duffle coat. He approached the Prime Minster.
My breath hitched when I saw it—a folder that looked startlingly like the two I’d carried and then left behind on the coffee table. Even from my vantage point, I could see where I’d worried the corner with fretful fingers.
“James,” I got his attention.
His hand came down on my thigh. “Shush.”
“It’s your folder.”
The warmth of his palm soaked into my skin and I was calmed a little by this, and by his seeming serenity. I had to wonder if our pause for tea had been planned all along.
The young man handed the Prime Minister the folder. It was carried off by the PM with an air of assuredness as he stepped up to the podium.
“This is all very impressive,” I muttered.
“I’m giving you a code name.” James lowered his sights on me. “In public, I’ll address you as Ms. Kingston.”
“Why?”
“It’s what we do.”
“Can’t I choose the name?”
“Hush, now.” His palm slid to my inner thigh.
His touch ignited a flame inside me. My skin quickened beneath his caress, legs opening farther so he could slide his palm higher. The pleasurable sensations caused my nipples to bead.
“These things can be tedious,” he whispered.
I bit my lip suggestively. “Don’t want you to get bored.”
“I’m afraid it’s unavoidable.”
Shielded by the seat in front of me, I hoisted my skirt to show James I wasn’t wearing any panties. “I want to please you.”
My body shuddered as he cupped my bare pussy. “Well done, Ms. Kingston.”
“Do it again…what you did back at the house.”
He rested his palm against me, still and firm.
“Will Xavier mind?” I whispered.
“I’ll let him punish you,” replied James, turning his focus back on the Prime Minister.
The PM was reading from that folder now, his familiar voice sounding eloquent as he practiced his speech, readying it to deliver to Parliament when the time came.
After several minutes, James drew my attention back on him. “You’re nice and wet.” He patted my pussy to show his approval.
My thighs shaking from tension, I tried to focus, tried not to shiver through this intense arousal wetting his hand.
James continued to stare straight ahead, listening intently to the speech, nodding occasionally, narrowing his gaze as though focusing in on a phrase or a word.
Drawing in a sharp breath, I ran through my options. There were none, not really. I needed to obey this man and please him, so I could prove that my promise was authentic…so I could stay.
Leaning back, I spread my thighs wider, our dirty secret concealed by the high-backed seats in front of us.
“Good girl,” he said softly.
Waiting…
And waiting…
“James.”
“Patience.”
With a dry mouth, I held my pose as my humiliation rose. Yet I was painfully aroused, my clit throbbing deliciously beneath the pressure of his touch, my muscles aching for relief.
Finally, his firm fingers trailed along my folds, exploring, opening, teasing…causing my breathing to hitch. My body went rigid and my internal muscles clenched when he slid in, beginning a slow, steady finger-fucking.
“So wet,” he teased.
“For you.”
“Silence.” He pressed the base of his palm against my clit to emphasize his point.
With my teeth embedded in my bottom lip, I tried to endure the pleasure quietly, tried not to grind my pelvis against his hand now that it had found its steady rhythm, my right hand clutching the end of the seat to hold on through this erotic punishment.
All the while the cheerless words flowed from below.
Familiar…
The PM emphasized each sentence as he read from the page before him.
“Even one life is too high a price to pay. We know this, we feel it in our souls as profoundly as we comprehend it. However, the winds of change have turned against our allies and we are again reminded of our profound history. And, like before, when we refused to bow to tyranny, or cower in the face of evil, we took action. We refused to allow our allies to crumble beneath savage attacks, from savage people.”
This was James’ speech.
“We cannot expect our brothers and sisters, our allies, to endure this on their own. We cannot abandon them. We will not abandon them. It is with a heavy heart but a strong heart no less, that I say…we must do what is good, what is right, what is honorable…”
It was the same speech James had written in the helicopter. The same one he’d read out loud to us. These thoughts and others filled my mind as I rose and rose and rose into the stratosphere, hovering near an orgasm as James’ fingers expertly manipulated me.
“I’ll only come when you say,” I said breathlessly, barely holding on. I knew this would please him. This was what he’d meant when he’d asked for my submission.
James’ fingers delved deeper. “You’ll wait until the end of the speech, understand?”
“Yes, sir.” I bit my lip, trying to endure the intense longing for release.
His thumb joined the fray and rubbed my clit with lightning speed. “You’re exquisite. Was it Xavier’s idea for you to go pantiless?”
“Mine.”
“Why?”
“I want to please you.”
He gave a nod of satisfaction, though his focus stayed on the man giving the grandest of speeches. It was a speech about war…a speech about changing the world.
“I can’t wait,” I whispered.
The rhythm slowed, bringing me a continued buzz, one I could only barely endure. “Thank you, sir.”
I glanced down as his soaked fingers strummed my glistening pussy, my clit swollen beneath his touch. It sent me close to the edge again…
Mercifully he whispered, “Come.”
Shuddering, grinding against him as slowly and surreptitiously as possible, I squeezed my eyes shut and disappeared into the nothingness, drenched in pleasure, absorbed by light and warmth as I chased after waves of release.
In his hands I was a tight bud desperate to flower. A young woman obsessed with the two men in her life who owned her every waking thought.
This was outrageous and forbidden and daring and filthy and I reveled in it. I was a dirty girl with dirty thoughts doing dirty things with a regal man in a bespoke waistcoat. The ultimate exhibitionist’s high. If Ballad wanted to prove he knew my darkest fantasies he’d landed on more than truth—he was fulfilling my darkest needs and satiating all of my secret desires.
My orgasm tore through me as I gripped his wrist so tightly it had to hurt.
He didn’t seem to mind. “Good girl.”
The air in my lungs finally found its way back as his fingers continued caressing me to bring me down slowly, proving he truly cared about my pleasure.
I leaned back, completely out of breath.
The Prime Minister seemed happy with the speech.
He strolled out of the chambers with the same dignity with which he�
��d entered. The few other men and women who were present trickled out behind him.
James whipped a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped off his fingers, then slipped it back. He tugged my hem down as I sat up straight again and tried to pretend I’d not just had the best public orgasm of my life.
The warmth in my cheeks remained and my body shuddered as though the memory of his touch was too much.
“I love you,” I managed.
His voice was unemotional. “For my purpose it’s pleasing to hear.”
“Why are you so cruel?”
“Why do you crave my cruelty?”
I don’t know.
Reaching over, I grabbed his hand and his thumb brushed over my palm as though to reassure me. It wasn’t enough, I needed more.
“Say something,” I pleaded.
“Xavier will be pleased with how well you’ve done.”
I threw my head back in frustration, though hearing Xavier’s name brought some reassurance. I’d probably fall at his knees in relief when I saw him.
This had all been too much…that speech written by Ballad, and his gift of pleasing, proving his possession. The fact he’d been arrogant enough to do it here. And I wanted more, craved more of him…
Even as his coldness endured and he shut me out.
“You passed the test, Emily.”
“You passed mine, too,” I said, pouting prettily. “I look forward to more of the same.”
He gave me a crooked smile as though this was all business as usual and pushed to his feet. I followed him down the stairs and out of the House of Commons into a grand foyer. We carried ourselves with the kind of grace that would fool everyone. No one would believe that we’d just committed some naughty act in the seats of Parliament that probably carried some ancient punishment.
My thighs were sticky, and I couldn’t ignore the feeling. I looked around for a place where I could freshen up.
A familiar face came into view.
Mike Todd, the burly Labor leader and head of the opposition, strolled by us, his rosy cheeks and waddle unmistakable. He was heading into the House of Commons.
At least this time James received a nod of recognition from him.
Todd paused before entering the grand chamber that we’d just left to exchange courteous words with the young man in the duffle coat who had handed the Prime Minister one of our folders.
Todd was handed the other one.
With a nod of approval, the Labor leader accepted it and then headed into the House of Commons.
James grabbed my hand to get my attention. “Don’t stare, Emily, it’s rude.”
I turned to look at him with wonder and trepidation burning my soul in equal measure. James Ballad seemed to be the man pulling the strings on everything.
“Head for the Tesla,” James said.
“What happened to the other car?”
“Walk faster.”
I spun to look back at the Houses of Parliament. He grabbed my elbow with an ironclad grip and guided me over to a flashy car idling on the curb. The blacked-out windows prevented anyone from seeing inside the Tesla.
I paused next to the vehicle, replaying what had just gone down inside those hallowed chambers. “Who gave you that level of authority?”
“God, I suppose.”
“God?”
“Fate, then.”
“My vote means nothing?”
“It’s not that cut and dry.”
“Your man always gets in?”
“Or woman, yes. Undoubtedly.”
“Who else is in on it?”
He gestured to the car. “Get in, Emily.”
“Who are you, really?”
He yanked open the Tesla’s rear door and shoved me inside, then climbed in and sat beside me.
I felt a rush of relief when I saw who was behind the wheel.
Xavier turned his head to glance back at us. “How did it go?”
“The speech needs some tweaking,” said James. “But we’re close.”
Xavier’s gaze lingered on me. “How did it go for you?”
Glancing cautiously over at James, I wondered if now was a good time to share what we’d done. “We were about to discuss the ethics of it all.”
“Drive,” snapped James.
“We can talk more later,” added Xavier.
“I’d rather talk now,” I said. “Help me understand this shaky democracy.”
“Well, royalty gets some say,” said James. “Drive, please.”
Xavier pulled away from the curb and pressed his foot to the accelerator. “You had fun?” he asked.
“I finger-fucked her,” said James dryly. “In the House of Commons.”
“You have no heart.” I turned in my seat to face him. “You don’t know what love is.”
He focused on the view of the Thames.
“You’ve gone rogue,” I blurted out.
“Know what’s criminal? Politicians using war for their own political advantage. When they have a sketchy history it’s easy for a foreign country to control them. Some men will do anything to get the attention off of them after a scandal, including and not limited to starting a war.”
“It still seems unfair.”
“We know things, Em,” James said, his tone firm.
“You play the all powerful role?”
“I don’t play it. I am it.”
Xavier glanced at us in the rearview. “Do your Jamaican accent for Em.”
“Seriously?” snapped James.
“Yes, I want Em to see your playful side.”
“It’s retired.” James tugged on his shirt sleeves. “Along with my patience.”
I studied his face. “You like playing God, or more accurately, the Devil. What made you that way, Earl Ballad?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you reflect on that in silence?”
“Honesty,” I whispered. “That’s all I’ve asked for.”
He looked out the window again, and ran a hand through his hair. “I need to keep you safe. There’s a balance between that and giving Xavier what he wants. What I want.”
“You want there to be an us?” I asked wistfully.
James looked conflicted. “Our time together is…”
“What are you afraid of?” I reached for him.
He swept my hand away. “This is futile. You are futile, Em.”
“Have you ever loved anyone?” I seethed.
He glared at me. “I loved my wife.”
“And you divorced her.”
“Never,” he said, pausing with a pained expression. “I was two thousand feet below the surface when I got the news.”
An icy chill raced up my spine as we turned in the opposite direction away from Westminster Bridge, leaving the murky Thames behind.
“What happened?”
“She was assassinated.” Grief filled his eyes. “She was in her car outside our home.”
That was undoubtedly why he’d left the Navy.
I swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“How could you?” He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have told you this.”
“You and I—”
“I’m merely the liaison between you and Xavier.” He blinked in frustration.
“No, you’re much more.” Scooting over to him, I cupped his face and kissed his cheek tenderly. “Thank you for telling me this,” I whispered.
“It was a long time ago.”
I reached for his hand and brought it to my lips, kissing his fingertips to let him know I wanted him to find peace.
“How the hell did this happen!” he yelled at no one in particular.
“You mean us?” I said. “What we have?”
James leaned back against the headrest and stared at me, giving me a sensual look that bared his thoughts.
“Let me soothe you.” I reached for his zipper.
His hand came down on mine to stay me. “I either need a stiff drink or…”
“I kn
ow what you need,” I coaxed.
His dark countenance hinted at conflicting emotions, as though he were struggling with ghosts that had found him again.
Finally, he gave me a slight nod of approval.
I began to caress him through his trousers, feeling him grow stiff beneath my touch as I pulled his zipper all the way down to free his hefty length. Leaning low, I licked the frenulum and then laved the ridges of his hardening shaft, massaging the base with my palm.
My tongue moved to the tip of the head, lapping at his pre-cum.
Stroking him I whispered, “Harder?”
“Yes.” James’ eyelids squeezed closed. “Should I give you more of my cruelty, Em?” he asked huskily.
I gave a nod. “I want that, sir.”
My sex throbbed as his hands fisted my hair with painful force, pressing me down on him, my throat opening and constricting around his tip and taking his full length as he moaned with pleasure. This was what I needed to hear more than anything…his arousal and his impending relief—his happiness.
Mercifully, he let me come up for air, only to push me down once more and guide me at a forceful pace. With a taut mouth I gave him the same aggression he shared with me, my palm burning from the strain.
“Xavier,” he called out.
Ballad’s firm hands went around my waist as he turned me to face forward, pulling me onto his lap and pushing my skirt up around my waist. I cried out as he entered me with one powerful thrust, his full length burying deep inside. He lifted me up and down aggressively so that our fucking was frenzied and forceful. It felt vicious and cruel, and was everything I needed in this moment. Everything he needed.
Blinking in surprise, I watched Xavier unbuckle his seatbelt and slide through the gap in the two front seats to join us.
The car was still driving.
“We’ll crash!” I gasped.
Xavier maneuvered onto the floor of the backseat as I braced for an accident.
Wait…it’s a self-driving car.
Of course it had to be, because Xavier was kneeling on the floor of the backseat between my thighs as I rode James. He took James’ balls inside his mouth, suckling and lapping at them.
And we were still moving…
My focus veered from the action happening below me as our car changed lanes, avoiding the Mercedes in front of us. It picked up speed, navigating its way through traffic.
The Pervade Duet Page 23