Praise Me: President (Praise Me Daily)
Praise Me: President: Chapter 9

I’m a patient man. Usually.

Eloise Rogers has turned me into a slavering beast.

I want her legs spread for my cock and I want it now.

But she’s drowsy and sated when I carry her into the presidential suite, a penthouse on the top floor of the hotel. A week ago, I would have been very concerned by how this must look to my team—the president carrying a slightly wine-tipsy twenty-something into his hotel room with the obvious intention of taking her to bed. And not to sleep.

I’m too fuck-starved to care anymore.

I’m too in love with this creature to water down my possessiveness. My need to be with her, touch her, care for her. She’s mine and everyone better be aware of that.

At the entrance to the room, I kick off my dress shoes and continue across the living room to the separate bedroom, carrying her inside and gently laying her down on the bed, quelling the urge to hike up her skirt and take an inhale of her pussy. In my thirty-seven years on this earth, I’ve never tasted anything so sweet or felt anything so fucking tight, and I never will again. She’s the only women I’ll ever touch for the rest of my life.

My pounding heart confirms it.

I look down and realize I’m touching myself with long grinds of my palm against the bulge in my pants. She’s flat on her back, her dark hair spread out around her, those sexy tits barely contained within her dress. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen—and I’m so hard from giving her head, I’m in physical pain. I could climb on top of her now and kiss her awake, tell her I’m hurting, and she’d give herself to me without hesitation.

I know she would.

She’s sleeping, asshole. Where is your honor?

Swiping the fine sheen of sweat off my lip, I stride back into the living room and approach the wet bar, pouring myself two fingers of bourbon, draining half of it in one sip. There is work I could do right now, not to mention there are ruffled feathers that need smoothing since I missed the senator’s gala. But I can’t concentrate.

I can’t think of anything but getting Eloise pregnant.

It’s almost like this obsession was implanted inside of me tonight, already teeming with intensity, and it started as soon as I saw her pussy up close. Smelled her. Fingered her. I’m almost sick with the need to seat myself as deeply as I can go…and leave behind everything inside of me. I want to stamp my fucking name on that thing. I want it known she’s my woman and no one else can have her.

“Mr. President?” Eloise murmurs behind me, the innocent note in her voice making my eyes slide closed. And when she comes up behind me and slips her hands up the front of my shirt, unbuttoning the garment slowly, popping the buttons one by one, I almost groan out loud with relief. Instead, I use the time to get myself under control, as much as possible. I can’t simply impregnate her. Not yet. I’m losing my head. “I’m sorry I fell asleep,” she continues in her husky bedroom voice. “I don’t think I realized how locked up my body was, until it wasn’t anymore.”

“I’ll never let it get locked up like that again, angel.”

“Thank you, sir,” she says, peeling the dress shirt off my shoulders and down my arms. When she reaches my wrists, she has to come around the front of me and take the bourbon out of my hands, and I’m surprised when she looks me in the eye and drains the contents of the tumbler, her eyes glazing over like frost on a windshield. “For the pain.”

“What pain?” I ask, raggedly, ready to call ten doctors, if she requires them.

She doesn’t answer me right away, her brow furrowed in concentration as she sets down my glass and unfastens my cufflinks, arranging them near the wet bar. Once my hands are free of the shirt and it drops to the ground, she looks up at me earnestly. “Aren’t you going to take my virginity tonight, sir?”

“Yes,” I say, instantly winded. Weak in the fucking knees.

She waited for me. She waited for me.

Eloise steps closer, smoothing her palms down my bare chest and not stopping. No, she strokes down past the waistband of my pants, massaging my hard cock through the black material. “You didn’t think I forgot about this, did you?”

“I didn’t want to wake you,” I say in a hoarse rush.

“Mr. President, I’m yours whenever you need me.” She has my belt buckle undone, now she pops the button free at the top of my fly, sliding her hand into my pants and jacking me off through the cotton of my briefs. “Sleeping or otherwise.”

“Eloise.” My voice is uneven, strained, along with every muscle in my body. “I’m not feeling very in control at the moment.”

She goes up on her toes and whispers in my ear. “I know, Daddy. That’s why I drank the bourbon. In case you need to hurt me.”

I’ve fisted her entire length of hair before she’s even finished speaking, snarling, marching her toward the bedroom with it in my grip, a modern version of a caveman bringing a woman back to his cave to fuck. I want to reassure her that there won’t be any pain, but I replace I can’t do that. I don’t know the animal she’s turned me into. Pulses clamor throughout my body, my vision is glitchy, like I’m in some kind of fever dream, my balls warm and heavy, the need to claim full ownership of this girl roaring in my blood.

As soon as we’re in the bedroom, I release her hair and unzip her dress, wrenching the garment down her body to her ankles. She’s in nothing but wet panties now, still soaked in the orgasm I gave her downstairs, and Christ, she’s a sight straight out of a male fairytale, standing there in high heels, a two-inch strip of white lace dividing her juicy ass cheeks, her eyelids at half-mast from the bourbon, liquor still shiny on her mouth.

“I have this fantasy,” she purrs, running her tongue along her bottom lip. “Do you want to hear it?”

“Fuck yes.”

She smiles slyly, seductively over her shoulder as she crawls onto the giant, king-sized bed, winding me with the view of her on all fours from behind, her thighs flexing as she crawls, her asshole and pussy visible through the pattered lace, taking herself all the way up to the headboard before flopping onto her side, stretching like a kitten in the center of the white comforter.

“You’re in your room after a long day of meetings and press briefings and running the country. And you’re stressed out. Overwhelmed.” She rolls over onto her belly, crossing her ankles in the air behind her, swinging them playfully, her earnest sex appeal the strongest drug in the fucking world. Cartels would make billions if they could sell whatever she’s laced into my bloodstream. Infatuation. Starvation. Love.

“You call me to come to your room at the White House and I take care of everything for my president.” She crooks her finger at me and I go, in a goddamn trance, joining her on the bed where I allow her to push me onto my back, every ounce of me being absorbed by her beautiful face, her throaty voice, whatever she’s going to say next.

She straddles me, topless in her see-through panties, leaning down to speak up against my mouth, her breath tasting like bourbon.

“I get on my knees to suck you as soon as I’m in the door,” she whispers, slowly licking her tongue into my mouth, her mound dragging at a leisurely pace up and down my stiff cock where it’s trapped inside my briefs. “And then, when you’re so hard from my blow job that you’re ready to burst, I stop. I tease you, make you chase me to the bedroom where I finally give you your reward. I do all the work, because you’ve already done so much for the day.” She closes her eyes and hums, as if she’s picturing the scene, her hips rolling like waves, her sides puffing in and out. “I’m riding you. Riding my president like a good girl until all that frustration is let out and you’re ready to take on the world again.”

I’m fucking spellbound. Ready to promise her all the stars in the sky.

My instinct is to roll her over and pounce, but she’s a virgin and there’s a pinprick of honor left inside of me, because I resist the call to mate her in a frenzy. “Act it out, angel,” I rasp. “We’ll see how long I can stand it before I’m on top with your ankles pinned beside fucking ears.”

She moans, rubbing her cunt on my erection and leaning down to kiss me in between hot exhales of breath, the filth turning her on. “Okay, Daddy.” When she manages to stop humping me, she scoots back slightly, working my dress pants down to my knees, followed by my briefs. I have to stack my hands beneath my head to prevent myself from reaching for her, picking her up and slamming her down on my prick.

Fuck. Fuck. I’m not going to survive this.

But I’ve given my trust to the right woman, because she senses my pain, sees the visualization of it via my sweaty chest and harsh breaths. And then she’s back to straddling my hips with her panties shed, pressing the head of my cock to her wetness while choking my cock up and down, up and down, little spurts crowning on the tip, joining the arousal already glistening on her pussy.

“I studied how to fuck, sir. Just for you,” she whispers, pressing my length inside, circling her hips like a corkscrew, taking me a little deeper with every revolution, my bones nearly melting at the wet, silky pleasure, the pressure capturing my cock on all sides. Squeezing. “Hours and hours, I studied, praying you would notice me when the time finally came. I wanted to be the best for you. I wanted to be the one you needed at night to ease the stiffness.”

The deeper she takes me, the more I’m in disbelief, my loins winding up like a fucking clock, my heels burying in the mattress, teeth clenched. “Ohhh.” My vision blinks in and out, my thoughts going fuzzy. “Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ.”

“I know it’s so tight,” she pouts down at me, her eyes knowing. Well aware that she’s an indescribable treasure with a body that’s going to keep me alert and jealous for the rest of my natural born life. “Think you can stand it?”

“Move,” I order, hoarsely, my balls in a vise. “Oh, God. Please move!”

“Yes, sir,” she whimpers, setting off into a gallop. “It only hurts a little.”

My heart shoots up into my throat, but the guilt isn’t enough to stop my hips from pumping upward, needing to be inside the heaven of her body. “I’m sorry it hurts, angel. I want to make this good for you, but you made me so fucking hard. I can’t think straight.”

“You don’t have to think at all. My President only needs to sit back and enjoy while I serve him,” she says, leaning down and sipping at my mouth while her hips buck, a hot fucking dream on top of me, luxuriating in the act of sliding up and down on my dick, her pussy dripping wet, teeth marks indenting her bottom lip. “Oh, Daddy. When I rub my clit right here, I forget about the pain.”

“Fuck.” I replace her butt cheeks in a bruising grip, holding her steady while I thrust from below, careful not to prevent her from sliding her clit right there. Ah Jesus, right there. Can feel her swelling, her little humps getting faster. Yes. “Is there still pain, angel?”

“No,” she whimpers, her tits dragging up and down my chest, her thighs open wide, so wide, allowing her to grind deep into her soaked flesh, unabashed in her enjoyment of my cock. “No, it’s so good now, Daddy. Am I doing a good job?”

Lust sinks its teeth in deeper. “Eloise, you’re a fucking gift from God.”

“That’s what you are, sir,” she sobs, tightening up. “I think I have to come. You make me so crazy.” Hips bouncing now, eagerly, so eagerly, she licks my throat, collarbone to ear, a light of obsession in her eyes that I know matches mine. What did I do to deserve her? “Are you going to come, too, sir?”

“Very soon,” I grit out, trying to prevent just that. Not wanting this to end. “I’m not…no way in hell I’m going to be able to pull out, Eloise.”

“Is that bad?” she whines in my ear.

She’s pumping furiously on top of me now, her pussy retreating to my tip, hips scooping and grinding, her young ass smacking off my thighs. It’s the king’s treatment that men only dare to dream about and she’s enjoying it as much as I am, her cunt soaking our joined flesh, my shaft the thickest and horniest I’ve ever felt it, all because of her. “Nothing about what you’re doing is bad, angel. Believe me,” I manage, my words running together, my chest heaving up and down. “But I’m not wearing a condom.”

“My president shouldn’t have to,” she half-gasps, half-whispers, starting to shake, letting out a long, whiny call of my name into my neck, riding me so rough through her climax, I’m shouting every curse word in the book at the ceiling by the time she’s finished setting the flood of her pleasure loose. “My president comes wherever he wants,” she says drowsily into my neck, kissing and licking. “As long as it’s somewhere inside me.”

I lose my mind. It’s almost a blackout, my only goal to loosen the pressure beneath my naval. It’s an ungodly pain. One that has my dick standing straight up like a fucking power line as I flip Eloise onto the mattress, my roughness of her unforgiveable, but I’m grunting and sweating like a possessed animal and there’s very little humanity left in me to temper myself. All I want is her pussy and I get it, pounding into her from behind with a growl, raw dogging my tight virgin on all fours, reaching around to her tits to feel them bouncing around in my palms, her nipples hard as glass.

“Come deep, Daddy,” she sobs.

“Try and stop me.” I reach between her legs and tickle her clit with my middle finger, my teeth roaming up and down the slope of her neck, leaving bites behind. “This is how it’s going to be, Eloise. Candlelight and wine for my good girl. Then it’s back home, so I can bang you like a dirty slut.”

She chokes on my name, coming on my fingers, her cunt twisting with an intense spasm, and I can’t hold on to my lust any longer. It runs away from me fully, my cock firing a load from the deepest recesses of my body, the pull of pain and relief so harsh that I’m hunched over her gorgeous body like a dog, humping and begging God for an end to the ache, my balls slapping loudly off her rear end, and my girl simply lays the cheek of her face on the bed and reaches back, pulling apart her ass so I can sink deeper and look at her tight asshole while I do it, my soul nearly exiting my body over the experience of her. The height of relief and triumph and pleasure. Eloise.

“You’re going to grow something in that belly for me now, little girl.” I bite back a curse, my hips thrusting involuntarily, come alternately seeping and pluming out of me, right into the sweet spot between her legs. “Daddy wants you pregnant before we leave this room in the morning.”

“Yes, sir,” she whimpers, rolling over onto her back with a dazed and dreamy look in her eyes, opening her thighs so I can watch my spend drip down the perfection of her pussy flesh. “If it’s a boy, can we please name him Pierce?” she asks, the obsession deepening in her eyes…but mine has surpassed it now. By miles. I’m insane for this woman.

And I’m putting a ring on it as soon as we get back to Washington.

No two ways about it.