But if it doesn’t, and Elliot’s my life for the next ten years, I might as well settle in now, right?
Right.
I finally snake my hand lower along Elliot’s torso, lightly stroking his skin and in no hurry to make it to the promised land. He’s as starved for physical affection as I am.
Taking care of my boy, in all ways, will be the focus of my life. Including in this way, and right now.
Leaning in for a kiss, I don’t miss how his fingers dig in a little, seeking purchase, a tighter grip as he obviously wants more. I slant my lips over his and slowly devour him, mindful of where my hand is and gradually working my way south.
That’s why I nearly giggle from the way he sucks in a sharp breath when my fingers brush the head of his cock. This way, kissing him, I can swallow his moans, too. I ease up on the fist in his hair and instead cup the back of his head to keep my lips in contact with his.
With my other hand, I slowly wrap my fingers around his cock, sliding his foreskin back and my thumb lightly rubbing across the slit, smearing pre-cum all over him and my fingers.
Needy energy swirls around him, drawing me into his vortex. It’s easy to forget this man is second in line to running the country.
That there are armed Secret Service agents just outside the door. That we’re being ferried to our nation’s capital by a crew and an airplane assigned specifically to and designed for this purpose.
I’m sooo fucking this man over theResolutedesk after he’s elected POTUS.
Maybe, if Leo’s lucky and treats me right, I’ll let him go second.
In my hand, Elliot’s cock feels hard, silky, hot—and I love the desperation in his whines when I lift my lips from his and release his cock so I can bring my fingers to my mouth and lick them.
From the way his blue eyes look fully glazed as he watches me, I know I have him in the zone.
Excellent.
If I have to use tease and denial to get him there, that works to my advantage. A spanking won’t always be in the cards, depending on a situation’s logistics. Marks can also be problematic. Especially when I know Elliot loves having marks.
I mean, who doesn’t? I do. How many mornings did I smile as I stared in the mirror at Leo’s handprints on my ass or thighs? Never mind the times there were plenty more marks than that.
Too many times.
I loved wearing his marks.
Feelingowned.
When I shove my fingers into Elliot’s mouth, he eagerly laves his lips and tongue over them much as he did to my cock earlier. It’s tempting to put him back onto his knees right now to get another blowjob from him, except I want to wait for that.
I won’t be conscious after a second one as good as—or better than—that one.
I have no doubts the next blowjob will be even better, because he won’t be worried about me saying no.
He’ll be eager to please his Sir.
Pulling my fingers from his mouth, my lips crash over his while I reach for his cock again. It doesn’t take me long to milk enough pre-cum from him that I don’t even need to bother getting up and grabbing a bottle of lube from my carryon. It was one of the things I purchased earlier, along with condoms and suitcases.
I don’t even bother lifting my mouth from his. I just mumble against his lips. “You have permission to come, boy.Thistime.”
Against my back, I feel his fists tighten, along with the rest of his body. I hold his head in place and suck every last moan and whimper from him as his cock almost immediately pumps my fist full of his cum.
While he’s lying there limp in my arms, I release his cock, lift my mouth from his, and because he’s a well-trained boy, he knows exactly what to do. His eyes flutter open again as he meets my gaze and licks every drop from my hand.
The whole time he’s doing that, I massage the back of his head.
“Good boy.”
I spot the moment when his brains fall back into his head. There’s a flash of awareness as he processes we just crossed another line between us, one that can’t be uncrossed.
