Chapter 9 Selene #2
Impatient with Cal’s teasing, I cup the back of his head in my hand and bring him down to me for a searing kiss that he takes over immediately.
Ceding control has always been hard for me, but it never is with them.
I give myself over to Cal, parting my lips to clear a path for his tongue while my body sags into Beck.
He’s moved to the other side of my neck now, running his nose over my racing pulse.
A low growl escapes his throat when I roll my ass into the hardened length of his erection.
“Fuck.”
He bites down on my neck, and the moan it elicits pours out of my mouth and into Cal’s, navigating the twisted path of tangled tongues to complete its journey.
Distant voices carried by a light breeze meet our ears, and everything stops.
Cal breaks the kiss. Beck’s lips leave my neck.
We all turn frantic eyes to the world around us, scanning the area but staying close to each other.
When no one appears, a collective sigh of relief fills the air.
Beck sighs. “We should get you back to the party. There’s no way they’re not looking for you.”
“He’s right, pet,” Cal says, trying to move back.
“No. I’m not going back in there.”
Tension writes itself into Beck’s limbs. “What happened? Who upset you?”
There’s a lethal, accusatory note to his voice that leaves me with no choice but to soothe him face-to-face. I spin around in their hold and take his face in my hands. “Nothing and no one that matters now that I’m here with you two.”
“But you can’t stay here, Selene. Aubrey will be expecting you to—”
“Aubrey is too busy kissing up to the President of Singapore to give a damn about me.”
I inject confidence I don’t feel into my voice and pray its enough to manifest my words into reality.
Aubrey has to be distracted. He has to be thinking about smoothing things over with President Tao more than he wants to ream me out.
Otherwise, they’re right and he’ll be looking for me.
I don’t want them to be right. I don’t want this moment to end.
I don’t want to schlep back to that tent and play nice or hide from Aubrey’s wrath for the rest of the night.
I want this. I want them. I want us.
My touch turns tender, fingers slipping over the smooth skin of Beck’s head.
His eyes fall shut, resolve fading with every second that passes.
“Please don’t make me go back in there,” I beg.
“Let me stay with you. Let me have you.” He’s already caving, both of them are, but to seal the deal, I pull him into a slow, drugging kiss that builds and builds until I’m climbing him like a tree and Cal is cursing as he guides us backwards through the doors we’re all supposed to be standing outside of.
I’ve been inside the Oval once since moving into the White House, posing for photos that ended up in a design magazine that claimed Aubrey and I chose the new slate blue window dressings and embroidered rugs together.
Of course, I’d never seen any of the decor items before, and I don’t look at them closely as we stumble into the room.
Beck presses me against the nearest wall, the tips of his fingers digging into my ass through the silky chiffon of my Oscar De La Renta gown.
Aubrey had complimented the color, but I’d chosen the gown because I adored the rosette detail at the bust and liked the amount of cleavage the sweetheart neckline put on display.
Beck buries his face between the exposed mounds and inhales deeply. “God, I’ve missed you,” he moans, mouth wandering to my right breast where his tongue traces the curve of the fabric before his teeth pull it away from my skin, exposing the hard peak of my nipple.
“Bite her.”
The order comes from behind us, and my eyes fly open, gaze locking on Cal’s at the exact moment Beck follows his command.
He’s not as close as I thought he’d be. Instead of standing somewhere near the doors we just passed through or sitting on any one of the plush chairs in the space, he’s behind the desk.
The desk every President since Jimmy Carter has used during their tenure.
The one Aubrey treats with the same reverence one might give a throne.
Wet, heated lashes of Beck’s tongue steal my words, my thoughts, my questions about cameras and blind spots.
All of it, including the knowledge that Aubrey requested the cameras in his office be turned off in the evenings—falls away as Cal settles into the buttery leather of the desk chair, his expression almost bored as he watches Beck ravage me.
My sex clenches, liquid desire pooling in the fabric of my thong at the sight of his indifference.
“Do you want more?”
I bite my bottom lip and nod, hips churning. “Yes, please.”
“Give her more, Beckham.”
Whatever it is Cal and I have decided on is of no consequence to Beck because he ignores Cal, continuing to work me into a frenzy with nothing more than nipple play. Cal’s lips curl into a smirk.
“I think he wants you to beg, pet.”
Confirmation lives in the pools of onyx focused on my face, and the pleas spill from my mouth in an incoherent whimper. “Please, Beck, I need more.”
“More what, gorgeous?” he rasps, fingers already drawing up the fabric of my dress to bare my legs. I start to tremble as they ghost over the inside of my thighs and nearly convulse when he uses the pad of his thumb to work my clit in hard circles through lace coated in my essence.
“She’s so fucking wet, Drake.”
“Bring her here, so I can see.”
Beck’s touch is precise, every rotation of his thumb applying the perfect pressure at the perfect spot.
And it stays that way even as he carries me across the room and lays me out on the most important desk in this country.
The oak is cold against my skin, but I can’t bring myself to care because I’m with my men and on the brink of an orgasm so strong it’s likely to destroy me.
I plant my feet on the edge of the desk, spreading my legs wide so Beck has more room to work and Cal has an unobstructed view.
He slides the chair in closer, dipping down to take my mouth into a filthy kiss while Beck pushes my thong to the side and kneels before me.
As soon as he pulls my clit into his mouth, I come apart, back arching off the desk, thighs threatening to separate his head from the rest of his body, throat raw and aching from a howl of pleasure muted by Cal’s mouth latched to mine.
His kisses guide me out of the haze of my orgasm and back into the present reality where Beck is adjusting his dick in his pants and staring at my pussy like he’s never seen one before.
Despite having just come, desire starts to swirl in the pit of belly again, louder and more demanding than before.
“Beck?”
His eyes snap to my face. “Yes, gorgeous?”
“More, please.”
“Are you—”
“Positive. I want you inside me right now.”
Cal sits back, eyes smoldering. “Give her what she wants, Beckham.”
Without so much as another word, Beck unzips his pants, setting his dick free.
I obsess over the bead of pre-cum leaking from his tip while he grips my thighs, pushing them up and back until my knees are at my chest. And then he’s inside me, one perfect glide of his length through the slickness from my orgasm that takes him to the end of me.
“Jesus,” I hiss.
“He’s not here, baby. It’s just me,” Beck growls, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he pulls out and drives back in, meeting no resistance. “And I’ve missed you so fucking much.”
Between the way his voice breaks over the confession and the slow, thorough strokes he’s giving me, my heart is ready to burst. Even in our most rushed moments, he handles me with care, with reverence, with love.
The words spill from my lips, hitting the air in a rushed jumble of syllables that suggest it’s my first time saying them.
“I love you.”
His expression turns rabid, rapture writing itself into the lines of his face as he drops my legs and covers my body with his. “Say it again,” he begs, strokes growing jerky but still hitting that perfect place inside of me that turns my brain to mush. “Tell me again, Selene.”
“I…love…you,” I moan, the tears gathering in the corners of my vision turning Cal and the rest of the room blurry.
I wrap Beck up in my arms as my legs open further to give him space and whisper the words to him again and again until they become the soundtrack to a joint orgasm that leaves me filled with his cum.
“I love you too,” he says once he’s recovered, treating me to gentle kisses as he untangles his body from mine.
“Watching you two together will never get old,” Cal says.
Forgetting that I’m sharing space with Callan Drake is an unlikely possibility, but I still jolt when I hear his voice.
He’s smiling when I turn my attention away from Beck, who’s tucking himself back into his pants, and focus it all on him.
And while his smile is incredible, it’s not nearly as captivating as the erection tenting his pants.
I lick my lips. “Seeing what watching us together does to you will never get old.”
Beck hums his agreement but doesn’t say more. Still, I feel the weight of his gaze on me as I sit up and arrange myself on the desk so I’m facing our man. I lift my right foot, bringing it to his lap to trace his dick with my big toe. Cal shivers, pushing the chair back to slip out of my reach.
“We’ve pushed our luck enough, pet. We should be going now.”
A pout tugs the corners of my mouth down. “But you didn’t cum.”
Cal taps his temple. “I’ve got plenty of images to work with when I jerk off in the shower later.”
“Orrrr.” I lift my dress and draw my legs up, dragging my fingers through folds glistening with Beck’s release and mine. Cal curses under his breath. “You could come now.”
Beck chuckles. “You should definitely come now, Drake.”
“Yeah, Drake,” I tease as Cal scoots closer. “You should come n—”
The rest of the word dissolves into a puddle of nothingness when Cal’s fingers find my opening. Actually, they’re just below it, scooping up the drops of Beck’s cum that escaped me and guiding them back inside while he studies my face.
“You want me to come, pet?”
Two fingers move in and out of me with slow, shallow thrusts that fill the room with obscene sounds.
My whines layer over top of them, and Cal lets a dark, dangerous smile curve his lips.
He leans forward and plants a kiss on my knee then pulls away suddenly.
I start to protest then fall quiet when I see his hands go to his belt.
“Then get over here and make me come.”
My core clenches at the demand, and impatience becomes a riotous ball bouncing around my chest, only stopping when his dick is buried deep inside me.
It should be impossible to feel anymore gratification than I already have tonight, but that’s all I feel right now.
That’s all I am right now. A pleasure-driven being who couldn’t stop chasing the high of an orgasm if she tried.
I don’t intend to try.
In fact, I hunt down my orgasm and Cal’s too, taking control of the rhythm the way I did in the bathroom at Dahlia’s.
It’s a frantic fuck that lacks finesse but not passion, and I take great pleasure in dismantling the institution that is the man underneath me in a matter of minutes.
He comes seconds after I do with his teeth in my shoulder and sweat beading his forehead, and finally, I’m done.
The seemingly endless pit of lust inside of me satiated, at least for tonight.
The office we’ve just defiled is soaked in silence and the scent of forbidden sex as we put ourselves back together, preparing to return to a world where we pretend not to love each other.
I escaped to the private bathroom to clean myself up, focusing mostly on hiding the tears that come every time I have to say goodbye to them, and when I emerge from it, Cal and Beck are huddled up near the doorway.
Their heads are close together, eyes on the phone in Beck’s hand.
“What is it?” I ask, hoping some overzealous news outlet hasn’t already posted photos of my spat with President Tao online and put me in a position where I have to explain what happened and why I minimized it.
Neither of them appears upset or murderous as they look at me, but I still approach with caution, taking the phone from Beck when he holds it out for me. The screen is open to an article in the New York Times, and the headline reads as follows:
brEAKING NEWS: PRESIDENT’S MISTRESS FOUND DEAD, MORE DETAILS TO COME