by Jessica Ashe
“So Terrell is the only person working for you that you trust?” Janie asks.
“Terrell and you,” I add. “That’s fine with me. I don’t need to implicitly trust everyone who works for me, so long as they do their jobs.”
“What do you want to achieve as PM?” Janie asks.
“God, you sound like a reporter.” Janie looks visibly offended and takes a sip of water. “Sorry. I’ve just answered that question so many times.”
“You always give soundbite answers about eliminating corruption in politics.”
“Believe it or not, that’s actually true. I saw things I didn’t like and decided to stop them happening.”
“What things?”
“I can’t say. It happened while I was in the Army. Let’s just say that plenty of politicians have blood on their hands. I want to change that.”
“Sounds tough.”
“‘Impossible’ might be a better word.”
“As someone who lucked into a job as secretary for the British Prime Minister, I’m inclined to believe in the impossible.”
Fate works in mysterious ways. What were the odds of me stumbling onto evidence of widescale corruption and the illegal sales of arms to terrorists? What were the odds of me rescuing a man who went on to help bring down a corrupt US senator?
My life feels like it’s been one crazy thing after another these past few years, and I don’t see the crazy stopping anytime soon.
It’s the normality of tonight that I’m enjoying so far though.
“You got the gory details on my childhood,” I say to Janie. “Now tell me about yours. Any chance you ran around the playground naked as a kid too?”
“Sorry. I was normal… ish.”
“Ish?”
“Okay, but you’d better promise not to laugh.”
I cross my fingers under the table. “Promise.”
Chapter Seventeen
Janie
Wade makes the gesture of offering me a ride back home, but we both know I’m not going home tonight.
I’m on edge from the moment we step inside 10 Downing Street right up until his bedroom door closes. Wade clears the path, so only a couple of people see me enter. They don’t so much as bat an eyelid at me, but I know what they’re thinking. I’m the secretary screwing her boss who happens to be the Prime Minister. I look like a gold digger, or perhaps a woman obsessed with powerful men. Either way, it’s not flattering.
“Are you sure about this?” Wade asks. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”
“I’m sure,” I reply instantly. I’ve never been so sure about anything.
The second those words leave my mouth, Wade’s lips are crushing against my own, as we stumble backward onto the bed. My legs wrap around him as we fall and I end up lying there with his erection pressing against my sex and straining to be let in.
Wade has one hand in my hair and the other on my breast as we grind against each other, unable to stop long enough to take our clothes off.
I manage to open the buttons on Wade’s shirt and tug it off completely without our lips ever parting. My hands move over his back, arms, and chest, exploring the muscles that had previously only been hinted at under tight-fitting shirts.
Finally, our lips do part, as Wade opens my blouse and pulls it off, quickly followed by my bra. I went to the effort of wearing a nice one today, so it’s almost disappointing to see it discarded so quickly. Almost. Then I look at his chest.
Holy shit, it’s fucking delicious. I want to lick his stomach, and I can honestly say that is not a thought that’s ever occurred to me before. There are a couple of tattoos, one above his heart and the other on his right bicep. They both look like military tattoos with dates and what looks like a regiment number. Nothing too scandalous.
He leans down and takes a nipple between his teeth, while his other hand slides under my damp cotton panties and strokes my wet pussy. I whimper as he teases my folds and then eventually slides his fingers deep inside me.
“Oh shit,” I moan quietly.
His fingers curl and rub against the rough spot on the top of my tunnel, as his thumb gently rubs my clit. I try to keep quiet, wary of the security guard outside the room, but I can’t hold back a deep grunt that escapes my lips as his fingers work magic inside me.
“Your pussy is dripping,” Wade whispers in my ear.
“Because I’m ready for you. All of you.”
Wade’s fingers keep moving slowly as he stares into my eyes. “You should know… I like to be dominant during sex. Are you okay with that?”
I nod. I expected him to be. I’m not sure if that’s because he’s Prime Minister or just his personality, but it doesn’t come as a surprise. It’s one of the reasons I want him so much.
He slowly removes his fingers and pulls my panties off at the same time. My skirt quickly follows them to the floor.
“Do you have condoms?” I ask nervously. I know it’s not the man’s job to supply them, but I also get my bag searched every morning on the way into work so….
“Of course. Top drawer.”
I lean over and fumble around until I find a large open box with a few condoms left inside. “Are they… normal?” I ask.
“No, they’re special Prime Minister condoms. They’re embossed with the UK seal and they’re bulletproof.”
“Very funny.”
I throw the distinctly normal condom at Wade and he catches it, before ripping the packet open and sliding the condom over his shaft in just a few seconds.
He leans down, one hand caressing my chest, while another squeezes my thigh. His sheathed cock presses against my slit but refuses to go inside.
I’m dripping wet and desperate for him to fuck me. I grab hold of the sheets and push my pussy against his cock.
Wade grabs hold of my hips and holds me down.
“No,” he commands. “You don’t decide when I fuck you.”
His cock twitches against my slit but still refuses to enter.
“Beg for it,” he growls.
“Please,” I whimper. “I need you inside me.”
“Please what?”
“Please, sir. I need you.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to fuck me,” I whisper. “Fuck me, Mr. Prime Minister.”
Wade spreads my thighs wide and buries his cock deep inside me. His cock throbs, as he slowly moves his hips, rubbing against the exact spot that I always go for when I’m by myself with my toys.
“Is that what you like?” he asks. “You like having my cock buried deep in your pussy?”
“Yes, sir,” I pant in reply. “I like you fucking my tight, wet pussy.”
He grabs my wrists and pins them by the side of my head while his cock slams into me hard. The sound of my slick excitement is almost as loud as my panting, as I lose control of all the muscles in my body. I’m incapable of doing anything but moaning and encouraging him to go harder.
“You’re dripping wet,” Wade growls. “My cock is covered in your juices.”
“I want more.”
“You think you can take more?”
“Yes. Fuck me harder, Mr. Prime Minister.”
He pounds his cock into me so hard that I scream without regard for who can hear. I have no control. Pleasure soars through my body and shows no sign of stopping. Just when I think I’m regaining control, another wave hits me, and I’m back to holding onto the sheets and letting it consume me.
I barely notice Wade growl before his cock throbs hard and then explodes inside me. He keeps rocking his hips, gradually getting slower until he collapses on top of me. He kisses my neck as our sweaty bodies slip and slide against each other.
Finally he rolls over and we both lie next to each other. I can’t move; why would I want to? I’m lying next to the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom. It doesn’t get much better than this.
Chapter Eighteen
Janie
There’s a loud knock at the
door, and when Wade doesn’t respond it just gets louder.
“I’m awake,” Wade yells back groggily.
“Do you have to get up?” I ask, as he wraps a heavy arm around me and pulls me in tight.
“No. It’s just a wake-up call. I fully intend to stay here with you for as long as possible.”
Wade leans over and kisses me on the neck. I close my eyes and whimper, sinking back into the pillows as his hands move up to my breasts. I’m completely naked and still wet between my legs. It’s like we only just stopped fucking, except I’m already desperate to have him again.
His hands stay on my breasts, pinching and teasing my nipples, as his mouth moves down my stomach, leaving a trail of kisses until his head is between my legs, his breath tingling against my slit.
“We should get dressed,” I murmur, even though putting on clothes is the furthest thing from my mind right now.
“I’m not doing anything until you’ve come,” he replies, before running his tongue up the length of my pussy lips.
He pinches my nipples again, and the desire burns from my sex to my tits and back again. Everything is tingling, and without looking, I know I’m already flooding his face with my juices.
Wade’s lips find my clit and he sucks firmly, his tongue flicking over the bud, which makes me thrust my sex into his face. My toes curl up and my back arches, while I hold onto the bed sheets so tightly it looks like I’m trying to stop myself from floating away.
I shouldn’t be this wet this fast, but it’s happening already. He’s barely been licking me for a minute when I’m on the edge, groaning loudly and squirming against his mouth.
“I’m coming,” I moan. “Fuck, Wade, I’m coming hard.”
I need him to suck my clit, but instead he stops. Wade looks up at me and smiles, his face covered with my wetness like he’s fresh out of the shower. I’m all over him and I haven’t even finished yet.
“Don’t stop,” I moan.
“Ask nicely.”
“Make me come. Please.”
Wade smiles again and then dives back down onto my clit. This time his fingers slip inside me, and I come instantly. Every muscle stiffens, and explosions rock through my core, as Wade savors my orgasm until the waves finally subside and I’m able to breathe.
Eventually his lips leave my pussy and he comes back up for air. We kiss, and I taste myself on him, the sweetness reminding me of the ecstasy my body’s still trying to recover from.
“I’m going to shower,” Wade whispers. “Don’t rush. I’ll get breakfast sent up.”
I’m too weak to protest even though I want him to stay next to me all morning. He walks into the bathroom, completely naked, his large cock swinging between his legs.
The last twelve hours changed my life forever. I have no idea how to deal with that, but for now, I’m just going to lie back and bathe in the glow of this orgasm. I’ll worry about the details later.
We don’t have any privacy. There’s so much movement outside the bedroom that I’m sure someone is going to burst in at any moment. Even if I make it out of the residence section without being spotted, it’s going to be obvious I spent the night here.
Wade walks back into the room with two trays of breakfast. It’s the quintessential English fry up, except less greasy. The amount of fat on the plate wouldn’t clog up the arteries of a soccer team; just one or two players. There’s orange juice, toast, poached eggs instead of fried ones, sausages, baked beans, hash browns, mushrooms, and a fried tomato. Plus coffee; I really need the coffee. There’s no black pudding which comes as a huge relief.
“How did you get away with ordering two breakfasts?” I ask. “Isn’t that giving the game away?”
“They’ll just assume Emilia is here. There’s been a change of staff since last night. The morning guys are used to not knowing what happened the night before.”
“I’ll have to go home and get changed. I’m wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday.”
“I’ve sent Terrell out to buy you some fresh clothes.”
“I bet he loves that.”
“I think he’s glad to be out of the office.”
“Um, what about underwear? I probably shouldn’t wear the same panties again today.”
“Why not?”
“You know full well why not.”
“I want to hear you say it,” he whispers in my ear.
“No.”
“Say it,” he commands.
“Because they’re wet,” I reply quietly.
“Why?”
“Because you made me wet last night when your hard cock pressed against me.”
“Go commando.”
“I can’t do that.”
“You can and you will. I want to know that your bare pussy is exposed and waiting to be touched.”
Wade kisses my lips gently, reaching under the tray and between my legs. His fingers press against my wetness for a second until he moves away from the bed and starts getting dressed.
“You’re leaving already?” I ask weakly. I need him again. It’s barely been an hour, but I need him almost as much as I need air.
“Terrell will be along with the clothes soon. Feel free to have a shower and use one of the dressing gowns. Remember: go commando. I’ll be checking.”
Being Prime Minister doesn’t get you a decent shower. Wade’s on-suite bathroom has hot water, but there’s hardly any water pressure. I know it’s an old building, but if I were PM, the first thing I’d do would be to install a power shower. This one is like standing under a watering can.
The dressing gowns are nice, though. I hate the soft fluffy ones that people assume women like. These are like large towels with sleeves. I throw one on straight out of the shower and try to make myself look presentable with the tiny amount of makeup I brought to work yesterday.
There are plenty of spare toothbrushes in the Cabinet. I use one of them to freshen up and try not to think about why he has so many available. It’s like the half-empty box of condoms; it’s useful, so I shouldn’t worry about it.
There’s a loud knock on the main bedroom door, so I leave the bathroom just as Terrell is walking in with two large bags of clothes.
“I’m not great with fashion, so I picked up a variety,” Terrell explains. “Hopefully there’s something in there you can wear.”
I’m hardly fashion conscious either, and the clothes look just fine to me.
“Thanks, Terrell.”
“You might as well leave the rest here. You know, in case you need a change of clothes again.”
“I… I guess.”
Wade hasn’t mentioned going on a date again. Is it just assumed? He’s going to thrust his hand between my legs later today to check that I’m not wearing panties. I’m entitled to expect another date.
“I should warn you, there is some gossip about you two, but it’s just that at the moment—gossip.”
“Do you think we should stop?” I ask. I barely know Terrell, but Wade trusts him and given Wade’s skepticism that’s enough for me.
“God, no. He looks happy this morning. That’s not a common occurrence these days. You’re good for him.”
“I hope so.”
“He needs someone he can talk to,” Terrell says. “Otherwise he bears the burden by himself and that’s not good.”
“He has you.”
Terrell shakes his head and sighs. “He doesn’t confide in me much anymore. I don’t know whether he’s trying to protect me or just doesn’t trust me.”
“He trusts you,” I insist.
“I hope so. Either way, I’m glad he has you as well.”
“I’ll be there for him if he needs me.”
“Glad to hear it. The last thing he needs right now is to be betrayed. I’m worried that will tip him over the edge.”
I smile reassuringly right until Terrell leaves and the door shuts behind him. My smile disappears in an instant and I fight the urge to cry. I can’t go downstairs with red eyes; if there
’s already gossip about Wade and me, then it’ll look like he’s upset me.
I’m not going to betray him. Even if he does have his secrets, he’s done nothing to deserve me stabbing him in the back. I’d rather be a secretary than a journalist who gets stories through deceit. I text Stephanie and ask to meet her again. This is going to end. Now.
I pass three thin manila folders to Wade. “You need to sign these, sir.”
Wade looks up and then behind me at the open door. “Go close the door.”
I walk to the door slowly, knowing his eyes are on me the entire time. When I turn back to face him, he looks eager and excited, and it’s not about the prospect of signing papers.
“Here,” he commands, pointing to the space next to him.
I stand next to him, and lean over, opening the folders to the page that needs to be signed, and letting him stare through the gaps in my blouse as I do so.
His breathing is heavy as he picks up a pen with his right hand while his other hand glides up my skirt until his fingers brush against my wet slit. I gasp, but don’t move as he signs the first document. His thumb brushes lightly against my clit as he signs the second one. I grab hold of the desk for support just before he signs the final paper while sliding two fingers deep into my core.
Wade never looks at me. His fingers curl up slightly against the front of my tunnel for a few moments, and then he stops. He pulls his fingers out of me and examines my juices glistening on them before sucking it all off with groans of pleasure.
“Good girl,” Wade says, still not looking at me. He passes me the signed papers. “You can leave now.”
“Yes, sir.” I head back to my desk and spend the rest of the morning trying to focus on work instead of the burning desire between my legs. I don’t get a lot done.
I almost fall asleep at my desk at three in the afternoon. I’m tempted to blame the lack of sleep last night, but sex usually makes me feel energized the next day, regardless of how little sleep I got. Wade is practically bouncing off the walls in comparison to usual. So why am I yawning?
