Innocent (Inequitable Trilogy Book 2)

by Lesli Richardson

  Next order I’ll make will be for a portable under-mattress restraint system I can take with us on the road, along with one for here.

  Grazing his nipples with my nails draws a low moan from him and makes his cock twitch even more.

  “Such an eager boy I have tonight.” I play with the puddle of pre-cum and lick it from my fingers. Slightly salty, and he tastes a little different than Leo. “Time for someone to start negotiating. What will you do to come?”

  “Anything Sir wants me to do.”

  I feel myself channeling Leo and don’t have the mental energy to fight it. “That’s a dangerous game, boy. You don’t know what I’ll ask of you.” I tweak his nipples and he fruitlessly shifts his hips, but there’s no traction to be had against his cock from where I’m sitting on his thighs.

  “I trust you, Sir.”

  “Do you now?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Hmm.” I brace my hands on the mattress on either side of his head and lean in, just far enough he can’t kiss me, and that my body isn’t giving him much traction along the underside of his cock.

  But he can feel my hard cock rubbing against his abs.

  “Maybe I’ll want to do dark and dirty things to you, boy. Maybe during lunch tomorrow, I’ll order you to give that ass up to me over your desk.”

  He bites down on his lower lip. “Yes, Sir.” His voice is turning low and breathy as he spins down the rabbit hole.

  “Maybe I’ll put you on your knees in the back of the limo on the ride home and make you blow me.”

  Color flares high in his cheeks as he nods. “Whatever Sir wants me to do, please!”

  I ease myself down a little, making him moan as he rocks his hips again and feels my body now giving him some traction.

  “Don’t you dare grind on me, boy. Not without permission. You know better than that.”

  He whimpers but falls still under me.

  “That’s better. Gooood boy,” I coo, kissing him. He voraciously kisses me back as he fists his hands and tugs on the restraints again.

  One brain scrambled—check.

  I spend the next thirty minutes teasing and edging him with my body, my mouth, my hands. I make him beg and swear and plead for release. This is giving me an excellent starting point in building our new dynamic. I don’t have to be able to overpower him if I can still downshift his brain into a sweet abyss where conscious thought ceases outside of sexual pleasure and physical pain.

  I don’t even have to be that mean to him tonight. The addition of the bondage has done the work for me even better than I imagined it would.

  Yeah, I envy him. I wish our positions were reversed, that it was me begging for release—the way I have countless times in the past—and him teasing me nearly to the point of insanity.

  Or that it was Leo teasing me.

  I sit up and rake my nails down his sides, hard enough to leave pink furrows behind as he growls at me.

  Literally growls.

  “What’s the matter, boy?” I lean in and bite down, hard, on the inside of his upper right thigh. “Someone horny?”

  “Please make me come, Sir. I belong to you—I’ll do anything.”

  “Anything, huh?” I lean in and nuzzle his nose with mine. “I’ll put the medium-sized butt plug in you after your shower tomorrow morning, and it stays in until lunch, when I will take it out of you at the office. That’s the offer.”

  He freezes, staring at me, his eyes wide in near panic.

  I wait him out. He knows he can safeword for this, because I’ll never interfere with his work.

  Let’s see if he really trusts me as much as he says he does.

  Between us, his hard cock is still twitching.

  Soft snorts are the only sound beside the music as he breathes through his nose and contemplates what I’ve offered.

  Elliot slowly licks his lips. “The alternative, Sir?”

  I shrug. “I fuck your mouth, untie you, and we go to sleep. You can wait until next weekend to come, because you’re obviously not as horny as you claim to be.”

  Which is a bluff. Let’s hope my poker face is a fraction as good as Leo’s. I think I have the voice down pat.

  Let’s be clear—Elliot doesn’t masturbate. He hasn’t touched his cock to pleasure himself without permission in twelve years.

  He’s a good boy. He won’t cheat and jerk off, no matter how horny he is.

  That’s part of the tradeoff of what it is that we do with Leo.

  It’s why I barely touched myself after I left. I mean, not totally why. Mostly it was because of grief. But, yeah, the few times I tried, it felt like I was…cheating, in a way.

  So I know if I tell Elliot he’s not coming until next weekend, there will be no cheating.

  “Not the largest one, Sir?”

  I’m sure my smile is evil. “No, boy. Not the largest one. That’ll be some future time. I’m going to be sadistic, not an asshole. The second-smallest one.”

  “Until lunch?”

  I nod, already knowing his answer. “And I’ll reward you once it comes out for being a good boy and taking it for me.”

  His tongue flicks along his lower lip again. “Yes, Sir,” he whispers. “I’ll do it.”

  “Excellent. Good boy.” I kiss him, holding his head in place with a fist in his hair and making him moan again.

  I sit up, grab a jelly cockring, and wrap it around the base of his cock. Then I sheath him in a condom, slick him, and slowly impale myself on him.

  “No coming without permission, either,” I grit as I ease myself all the way down his length.

  Dammit, he feels good.

  I don’t mind fucking him, just like I never minded fucking Leo, but I’m a bottom at heart. Don’t care what position—on top or on bottom—I like being filled and fucked and coming with something firmly pressed against my sweet spot.

  I slowly start riding him because I want this to last a little while for him, too. Because of being tied up, he can’t really get traction to thrust with me. I play with my cock as I ride him, my other hand pinching my left nipple. “Such a good boy for me. I’m always going to reward my good boy for doing what I ask.”

  Houston, we’ve hit escape velocity. And I don’t mean an orgasm. His eyebrows lift in that subtle way that tells me he’s fucking gone. In this moment, I could make him promise to sign over Guam to me, and he’d probably do it.

  That means I want this to last more for his sake than my own. He’ll love it if I’m horny and I put him on his knees on the floor and fuck his face. I can get my rocks off any time with him.

  He needs the mental reset this deep, submissive headspace gives him. Needs it desperately.

  This isn’t just making love and experimenting with his physical buttons.

  This is me trying to puzzle out the fastest, easiest ways to dropkick his brain into neutral. Because one week from now, he’s going to be declaring his candidacy, and all hell’s going to break loose.

  If I don’t have a handle on handling him, he might break loose, too, in devastating ways, once the stress slams into him.

  In ways I don’t have the ability to fix for him.

  Even worse, I don’t know if Leo’s going to be around for the long-haul once Elliot declares, and once Leo finds out I’m back. I don’t know if he’ll return and try to deliberately sabotage Elliot so he drops out of the race so Leo can have him to himself.

  I hope he won’t do that, but I’d be naive as hell if I don’t add that possibility to the mental list.

  Leo once told me that doing advance work and logistics meant trying to plan not just for possible scenarios, but for the scenarios no one knew to plan for. The things that had no chance of happening but could still happen.

  Because you had to know how to weed out the things it’d be impossible to plan for and guard against, versus the things that no amount of planning could ever take into consideration but weren’t impossible.

  Like it wasn’t likely a meteor would drop
onto an event location. If it did, you were all fucked anyway. Nothing could stop it short of not being there when it hit.

  It wasn’t likely that a small plane would be deliberately crashed into the event location, but it could happen. Or even something like an ultralight that could fly in low under the radar. Meaning that you had to know what to do to mitigate risk to your protectee.

  Is it likely Leo will sabotage his beloved pet?

  No.

  Would I be irresponsible not to have a plan in place in case he tries it? Especially since he’s a psychologist and has more years with Elliot?

  Absolutely, I would be failing Elliot not to plan for that.

  It also means I need to be sneakier.

  I slick pre-cum over my cock as I stroke myself and try to time this right for him. “I want my good boy to come for me,” I say as I pick up the tempo. I’m close, and I want him to feel me coming just before he does.

  I want him anchored to me.

  I want him wanting me.

  I want this or hundreds of other kinky memories made with me to be what his mind turns to in those moments when his focus drifts for even a second.

  I want to be first in his mind, in his heart.

  I want to be his, and I want him to be mine.

  He’s so damned close—I can see it in his face. So am I. “Ask me to come for you, baby. Let me hear you beg pretty for me.”

  “Please come for me, Sir! I want to feel and watch you come. I want you to—”

  “Fuck, yeah!” It was there, all of a sudden. I speed up my hand and spill all over him, all over his abs, and force myself to keep moving because then he’s right there, too. I ride him hard, until his body finally trembles and stills beneath me.

  I scoop up my puddle with my fingers. Before I can even lift my hand from his abs, his mouth is open, his head up and straining, wanting it.

  Elliot eagerly sucks my fingers clean as I feed every drop to him and then lean in and kiss him possessively.

  He’s mine.

  Whether or not he realizes it yet doesn’t even matter.

  I clean him up before I free him from the restraints. He’s already falling asleep.

  As he clings to me while he falls asleep, I nuzzle his head. “Leo replied to your texts,” I whisper. “Cell reception problems with his phone. He apologized.”

  He mumbles something and lets out a soft sigh I realize is a snore.

  He’s asleep.

  I press a kiss to his forehead. “Sleep well, boy. Dream about me.”

  Closing my eyes, I settle in and contemplate what it’ll be like living in the White House and fucking Elliot over the Resolute desk whenever I want.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The next morning, I have an eager subby boy kissing me good morning when I wake him with his coffee.

  I let him have the burner and see the screenshot of Leo’s message so he can reply.

  But then he hands it back to me and I pick up a subtle shift in his energy this morning from yesterday.

  Like he realizes I absolutely can control him, and he’s willing to completely submit to me in all ways.

  I’m going to run with it.

  He’s my good boy and doesn’t complain when I fulfill my promise to stuff him with the butt plug.

  I also reward him at lunchtime, locking his office door and then locking us in his private bathroom, sucking him off before removing the plug. Then he sucks me off.

  Then lunch.

  Everyone’s a winner, and he seems filled with a vibrant, eager energy that wasn’t present earlier.

  Hmm. Good to know.

  My Wednesday move goes without a hitch. My storage unit in Tallahassee gets emptied, the movers help me box what little’s left in my apartment and load those things in the pod, and then they take it away after I put the same padlock on it that I used when I moved down here. As I make a final sweep of the apartment, I thought I’d feel… I don’t know.

  I don’t know what I thought I’d feel. Maybe because my entire and fortunately brief tenure here lay against a backdrop of grief and longing.

  Who knows?

  That is, I totally know, but I really don’t want to think about that now.

  I stop by my old office and say hello to everyone, pass out some candies from the White House, with the official seal on them and everything, and apologize again to Dr. Sently for abruptly resigning with no notice.

  Then back to the airport, where I catch an earlier flight after letting Elliot know I’m on my way even sooner than I’d planned. My things will be delivered to the storage unit late Monday afternoon, where I’ll meet another team of movers who will empty the pod into the storage unit for me. Based on how long it took them to do it the previous two times, it should take them less than thirty minutes. Hell, the space in Leo’s storage unit is already set up.

  Because it’s where my things were when I arranged everything for the movers to take my things.

  Fuck. Why did I leave Leo?

  Oh, yeah. Because apparently, I’m a masochistic idiot.

  Or is that why I came back?

  What the hell did I think I was going to accomplish by leaving though? Seriously?

  All I did was make myself miserable and drive doubts into my brain about Leo’s true feelings for me.

  If he really loved me, wouldn’t he have remained in frequent contact with me?

  I don’t know if Elliot’s a reliable narrator for what Leo’s going through, because all he knows is what he knows, and he’s not inside Leo’s head.

  Then again, my leaving eventually shook Elliot into making a seismic change in his life, so maybe it was worth it.

  Too soon to tell, too close to call.

  Too fucked up to figure out?

  Yeah. All of the above.

  Wednesday night, once I get Elliot back to the residence, I tie him face down on his knees, hands over his head and ass in the air, and viciously spank and ride him until he explodes without me even having to touch his cock.

  Moments later, cleaned up and untied, he collapses against me in a happy puddle of submissive bliss and falls asleep immediately.

  I lie there, wide awake and feeling angry at myself, at Leo—at the world in general.

  But I need to get my shit together, because tomorrow we’re going to fricking Nebraska.

  T-minus four days until Elliot’s world explodes.

  Still time for him to back out. I mean, I can hope he’ll back out.

  Even though I already know he won’t.

  * * * *

  I’m nervous about this trip, no matter what Elliot tells me. We’re still under Leo’s radar for now, taking off from Andrews Thursday evening just before eleven p.m. We’re traveling with the bare minimum of staff, four of them, at my last count.

  No press, except for two pool reporters, one print, one video. They’re there to cover Elliot attending a service award ceremony and him giving a short speech. The heavy hitters are all with Shae and covering her overseas trip. There are a few stringers in the White House press room, but for the most part, Angie’s handling daily briefings while on the trip. One of her deputies is giving daily updates from the White House only if something consequential needs to be announced.

  What the press doesn’t know about—and will not be included in—is our trip to visit Elliot’s parents.

  Which, I’m sure will make some news outlets howl.

  Fuck them. This is about Elliot and his needs, not theirs.

  While on Air Force Two, we ride in the front suite. Elliot seems in surprisingly good spirits and doesn’t need any special settling from me. Although we do pull out the bunk and nap for a couple of hours. We’ll land at Offutt Air Force Base, which is less than forty minutes by car from Elliot’s parents’ farm. Since we’ll be flying back late tomorrow evening, we’ll use the plane as our base of operations instead of moving to quarters on the ground.

  I’m sure Stella will be doubly pissed after she learns about her brother’s vi
sit. She’ll have wanted to turn this into a photo opp. Her and Representative Grace Martin, both.

  Which is exactly why they’re not being told about this.

  It’s not a photo opp. It’s anything but. This is private family time and not something Elliot wants talked about on the news. We’ll include it on the final daily schedule we hand out to the press after the fact, but they don’t have a right to intrude upon private citizens.

  Elliot already has Shae and Kev’s approval to announce while she’s gone. Elliot will be doing it while Shae’s in the air and traveling overnight, so he won’t upstage her. The timing means Shae can have what passes for a day off during the trip. The kids are with them, and it’s sort of a family vacation. Plus, that way, Elliot gets a little bit of a breather before the press descends upon him in full force to cover his campaign, because the Sunday morning shows are already booked with people discussing stuff happening on Shae’s trip.

  Kev’s idea. Totally.

  What I don’t know is if Leo’s been looped in on this. I suspect not.

  Especially since Elliot told me he asked Kev not to loop Leo in. Whether or not the sneaky chief of staff decided to throw Leo a bone remains to be seen.

  I remember a conversation Leo and I had months before I left DC. About Elliot running. I sure Leo’s still in denial and hoping Elliot won’t run. If Elliot doesn’t run, it means Leo realizes his dream sooner.

  Yes, I’ve avoided that discussion with Elliot. I can’t manage their relationship any more than Leo could manage the one I had with Elliot back then.

  Do I think Elliot should run?

  I want him to run, and not because it means I’m still employed if he does. I think he will be an amazing president. As long as he’s willing to let me support him the way he’ll need.

  Look, no president runs the country alone or in a vacuum. FDR did it from a wheelchair. For fuck’s sake, Reagan suffered from Alzheimer’s.

  So what if Elliot needs a hands-on handler?

  That in no way lessens the validity of him being POTUS. Shae’s had exactly that kind of hands-on help from Kev and Chris, and she’s been a spectacular POTUS. The decisions are ultimately hers, yet she’s surrounded herself with wise people who are not yes-men, and who will give her the unvarnished truth.