Mr. President
Page 39
“I’m not throwing anything away, Charlotte.” He eyes me steadily. “Why are you so worried?” he prods.
“Why do you think? The whole nation has their eyes on you, Matt! The last thing you need is a scandal.”
“There will not be a scandal. I won’t allow it. You need to trust me.” He leans forward, his eyes scanning my features, his voice unwavering, hard and deadly serious. “I would never let anything happen to you. And even if something broke out in the news, I would protect you.”
“If anything happened, you know you would need to throw me under the bus. It would be the only way to salvage your image with the people and keep your campaign going.” My heart breaks at my words, because as much as it hurts, it’s the truth. He would have to place the blame on me, control the narrative in such a way that made me seem like a power-hungry girl looking to sleep her way to the White House, and make Matt seem like the victim. That’s just politics.
He stands up and starts pacing, and lets out a sarcastic laugh. “You really think I would do that to you?”
I stay silent, unable to speak.
“Jesus, I would rather lose the presidency than hurt you,” he growls, in a voice so low I wasn’t sure I heard him.
“That is exactly why we need to stop!” I plead.
He digs his hand into his hair in an exasperated motion.
“I don’t want to stop,” he says, looking at me with such conviction and desire in his eyes, it almost scares me.
“Neither do I,” I whisper, “but we have to.”
“Fuck, Charlotte—just let me have you! Let me have this!” His eyes pin me to my seat, his raw, unrestrained frustration burning bright. “I may be the next President of the United States! I’ll be damned if I don’t have what I want,” he growls, “and I want you. I not only want you, I need you. No matter what I’m doing, I’m thinking of you. No matter who I’m with, I would rather they be you . . .”
He stands there, his chest rising and falling with his every breath, his fists clenching at his sides, the muscle in his jaw ticking.
I sit there in shock at his outburst . . . at his words.
My heart is practically bursting in my chest at the adoration I feel for this man—and I let myself go. I let myself go to him. Because I want to.
I rise from my seat and his pupils dilate as I walk toward him, his fists still clenched at his sides. I see him fighting the urge to reach out to me.
I walk right up to him, our chests almost touching. Matt tips his head down to look at me, since he towers over me, and the turmoil in his eyes sets me on fire.
I wrap my arms around his neck and plaster myself against his body, and I start to kiss him with everything I’ve got.
I don’t care about more. I don’t care that there is no future for us if he wins. I won’t deny us both this moment. He said he needs me. And I need him.
I kiss him and in my kisses, I unleash all the desire, all the passion, all the need I had been so desperately trying to fight; and he does the same.
Immediately his arms wrap around my waist and I feel him lift me up. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around his waist. His hands grip my ass, holding me against him, and he keeps returning my kisses with equal intensity.
He kisses the shit out of me. All memories of anything existing in the universe other than this man, this moment, completely disappear.
He growls against my lips and I feel him start to walk while kissing me.
He breaks the kiss for a moment to take me up the stairs, but I can’t keep my mouth off him—his jaw . . . down his neck . . . nibbling and sucking on his delicious skin.
He kicks the door open, and I think he just broke the hinges but I don’t care.
The room is dark except for one lamp next to his bed.
He sets me down on his dresser, the first thing he finds, and stands between my legs, his mouth back on mine—taking my breath away.
His kiss is drugging, his lips warm and soft yet firm. His tongue is warm too and every time he puts it inside my mouth, I feel tingles all over. It feels intimate and incredible. I sigh against him, but my sigh quickly turns into a moan as his hand travels down and unzips my sweatshirt. He pushes it halfway off my shoulders, the straps of my top following. He doesn’t even take my bra off, just yanks down one of the cups and takes my nipple in his mouth. I gasp and wrap my legs tighter around him, letting my head fall back because of how exquisite it feels.
“Matt . . .”
He sucks harder, twirling his tongue against my nipple, making me wetter and wetter by the second.
“I could do this all day,” he groans as he pulls down my other cup and takes my other nipple in his mouth.
Just as I get used to the warmth of his mouth on me, he pulls back, gaining a moan from me in protest.
He looks at me and reaches up to cup my face, giving me a slow, tender kiss before reaching between us and unbuttoning my jeans.
I feel my heartbeat get faster as I realize what he wants to do.
I quickly jump off the dresser and take off my jeans, my sweatshirt, and my top, leaving on just my panties and bra.
Matt yanks his T-shirt off, revealing miles of hard, strong male-ripped chest muscles.
He takes me in, standing in just my bra and panties, his eyes filled with admiration and lust.
I look back at him, silently begging him to take me to his bed already.
And he does.
He picks me up and lays me down on the bed, following close behind. He lies on top of me, kissing me senseless, his hands traveling town my torso and gripping my ass.
He sucks on my neck, licking and biting.
I rake my nails down his back and moan, rocking my hips against his hardness.
“Please . . .” I beg.
He chuckles against my neck, and then lifts his head to look me in the eye when he places his hand over my panties.
“What do you want? My lovely, beautiful, sexy Charlotte.” He continues kissing my neck and rubbing his fingers against my soaked panties.
Before I can answer, he pulls my panties to the side and slips his finger inside me, and I gasp in response.
My breath is coming fast and hard, and I’m out of control with want as I pull his head up so that he’ll kiss me again.
He doesn’t need to be asked. His lips fasten to mine without apology or restraint, then he swipes his tongue down my neck, kissing and nibbling my skin.
I’m high, absolutely high on him, on this moment. Matt drags his fingers along my stomach.
“Why do you think? The whole nation has their eyes on you, Matt! The last thing you need is a scandal.”
“There will not be a scandal. I won’t allow it. You need to trust me.” He leans forward, his eyes scanning my features, his voice unwavering, hard and deadly serious. “I would never let anything happen to you. And even if something broke out in the news, I would protect you.”
“If anything happened, you know you would need to throw me under the bus. It would be the only way to salvage your image with the people and keep your campaign going.” My heart breaks at my words, because as much as it hurts, it’s the truth. He would have to place the blame on me, control the narrative in such a way that made me seem like a power-hungry girl looking to sleep her way to the White House, and make Matt seem like the victim. That’s just politics.
He stands up and starts pacing, and lets out a sarcastic laugh. “You really think I would do that to you?”
I stay silent, unable to speak.
“Jesus, I would rather lose the presidency than hurt you,” he growls, in a voice so low I wasn’t sure I heard him.
“That is exactly why we need to stop!” I plead.
He digs his hand into his hair in an exasperated motion.
“I don’t want to stop,” he says, looking at me with such conviction and desire in his eyes, it almost scares me.
“Neither do I,” I whisper, “but we have to.”
“Fuck, Charlotte—just let me have you! Let me have this!” His eyes pin me to my seat, his raw, unrestrained frustration burning bright. “I may be the next President of the United States! I’ll be damned if I don’t have what I want,” he growls, “and I want you. I not only want you, I need you. No matter what I’m doing, I’m thinking of you. No matter who I’m with, I would rather they be you . . .”
He stands there, his chest rising and falling with his every breath, his fists clenching at his sides, the muscle in his jaw ticking.
I sit there in shock at his outburst . . . at his words.
My heart is practically bursting in my chest at the adoration I feel for this man—and I let myself go. I let myself go to him. Because I want to.
I rise from my seat and his pupils dilate as I walk toward him, his fists still clenched at his sides. I see him fighting the urge to reach out to me.
I walk right up to him, our chests almost touching. Matt tips his head down to look at me, since he towers over me, and the turmoil in his eyes sets me on fire.
I wrap my arms around his neck and plaster myself against his body, and I start to kiss him with everything I’ve got.
I don’t care about more. I don’t care that there is no future for us if he wins. I won’t deny us both this moment. He said he needs me. And I need him.
I kiss him and in my kisses, I unleash all the desire, all the passion, all the need I had been so desperately trying to fight; and he does the same.
Immediately his arms wrap around my waist and I feel him lift me up. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around his waist. His hands grip my ass, holding me against him, and he keeps returning my kisses with equal intensity.
He kisses the shit out of me. All memories of anything existing in the universe other than this man, this moment, completely disappear.
He growls against my lips and I feel him start to walk while kissing me.
He breaks the kiss for a moment to take me up the stairs, but I can’t keep my mouth off him—his jaw . . . down his neck . . . nibbling and sucking on his delicious skin.
He kicks the door open, and I think he just broke the hinges but I don’t care.
The room is dark except for one lamp next to his bed.
He sets me down on his dresser, the first thing he finds, and stands between my legs, his mouth back on mine—taking my breath away.
His kiss is drugging, his lips warm and soft yet firm. His tongue is warm too and every time he puts it inside my mouth, I feel tingles all over. It feels intimate and incredible. I sigh against him, but my sigh quickly turns into a moan as his hand travels down and unzips my sweatshirt. He pushes it halfway off my shoulders, the straps of my top following. He doesn’t even take my bra off, just yanks down one of the cups and takes my nipple in his mouth. I gasp and wrap my legs tighter around him, letting my head fall back because of how exquisite it feels.
“Matt . . .”
He sucks harder, twirling his tongue against my nipple, making me wetter and wetter by the second.
“I could do this all day,” he groans as he pulls down my other cup and takes my other nipple in his mouth.
Just as I get used to the warmth of his mouth on me, he pulls back, gaining a moan from me in protest.
He looks at me and reaches up to cup my face, giving me a slow, tender kiss before reaching between us and unbuttoning my jeans.
I feel my heartbeat get faster as I realize what he wants to do.
I quickly jump off the dresser and take off my jeans, my sweatshirt, and my top, leaving on just my panties and bra.
Matt yanks his T-shirt off, revealing miles of hard, strong male-ripped chest muscles.
He takes me in, standing in just my bra and panties, his eyes filled with admiration and lust.
I look back at him, silently begging him to take me to his bed already.
And he does.
He picks me up and lays me down on the bed, following close behind. He lies on top of me, kissing me senseless, his hands traveling town my torso and gripping my ass.
He sucks on my neck, licking and biting.
I rake my nails down his back and moan, rocking my hips against his hardness.
“Please . . .” I beg.
He chuckles against my neck, and then lifts his head to look me in the eye when he places his hand over my panties.
“What do you want? My lovely, beautiful, sexy Charlotte.” He continues kissing my neck and rubbing his fingers against my soaked panties.
Before I can answer, he pulls my panties to the side and slips his finger inside me, and I gasp in response.
My breath is coming fast and hard, and I’m out of control with want as I pull his head up so that he’ll kiss me again.
He doesn’t need to be asked. His lips fasten to mine without apology or restraint, then he swipes his tongue down my neck, kissing and nibbling my skin.
I’m high, absolutely high on him, on this moment. Matt drags his fingers along my stomach.
