Chapter 60
Sixty
I n April, Butch whisks me up to Washington, D.C. for the National Cherry Blossom Festival. Thousands of trees bursting with pink and white blooms line the Tidal Basin reservoir and surrounding National Mall area. I couldn’t have asked for a more glorious welcome to the nation’s capital.
The walk among the flowering trees dazzles but visiting each iconic monument fills me with awe.
The Lincoln Memorial, with an enormous carving of Abe sitting in a chair overlooks the famous reflecting pool, the Washington Monument visually arresting at the opposite end.
The Jefferson Memorial is an open-air rotunda featuring a bronze statue of Thomas Jefferson standing atop a pedestal, surrounded by quotes carved in marble.
Our time at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial is silent and solemn as we walk the entirety of “The Wall.” It’s etched with rows upon rows of names honoring the fallen soldiers forever lost in that controversial war.
Countless flowers and trinkets are placed in front of panels as remembrances.
Through it all are the trees in bloom and miles of lawn greening up now that spring has arrived. Spending time in the heart of our nation, one that carries the weight of our history, blankets me in humility.
We venture to the White House, passing poignant quotes carved into sidewalks along the way, then head to our hotel.
When we arrive at the Willard InterContinental, it’s so fancy, I worry what it’s costing my lumberjack.
The palatial lobby is the epitome of elegance with huge marble pillars, inlaid ceilings, golden details, oversized ferns, and polished floors that makes the kid in me want to see how far I could skid in socks.
In the elevator, I joke, “Do you think we might be able to order canapés?”
Butch grins down at me, leaning close to my ear. “The only thing I want on the menu is holding my hand.” His eyes caress mine, looking at me like I’m priceless.
He opens the door to our room and wow . “Oh, Butch,” I murmur.
I take it all in. Spacious, stylish, and stunning.
An accent wall outlines the plush king bed with a very presidential-esque headboard.
An upholstered bench sits before it. I peer out the window, glimpsing the Washington Monument jutting to the sky.
And the bathroom holds its own glamour with a variety of soaps and lotions I’ll peruse later—plus a ginormous tub that easily fits two.
I throw myself into Butch’s arms, tackling him against the mattress.
He grunts, then laughs. “You like it, baby?”
Exuberance dances through me. “I love it. You’re spoiling me.” I gaze into those emerald eyes I also love.
“It’s my pleasure, believe me.”
“Are you secretly wealthy? I mean, this place must cost a fortune…”
He chuckles. “I’m not a closet billionaire or anything. ”
I pretend to be crestfallen. “What a shame. That’s kind of a dealbreaker.”
“Because you could get used to this?”
Laughter bubbles out of me. “Exactly that.”
Butch pulls me down to his lips and we share a languid kiss.
He lands a sharp smack on my ass, and I yelp. “Let’s clean up and eat dinner so I can have my way with you back in this bed.”
“Sounds like a plan, handsome, non-billionaire, lumberjack man,” I say before hoisting myself off him.
We take a cab to Georgetown and walk along M Street, home to a smorgasbord of restaurants and bars. A fair number of preppy college students mill the sidewalks. When we pass the Third Edition, I do a double take.
“What?” Butch asks.
“This looks familiar,” I say, staring at the facade. “Isn’t that the bar from St. Elmo’s Fire ?”
“Didn’t see it.”
I nudge him with my elbow. “Not a Brat Pack guy?”
“More of a Rambo, Red Dawn , Dirty Harry kind of guy.”
“Blood, war, destruction then? No comedies? Dramas?”
“I liked Beverly Hills Cop, Cannonball Run, and that one with Kurt Russell?” He pauses, then snaps his fingers. “ Big Trouble in Little China .”
“So… action comedies ? Way to branch out.”
He gives me a sidelong glance as we reach the restaurant. “Let me guess…you only like romances?”
My brows furrow before I give him a flat look. “Wrong-o-rama. I’m game for almost anything.”
“Good. Because I’m putting that to the test later.”
It’s a promise, one far more delicious than what we’re about to eat .
I emerge from the hotel bathroom in my emerald lace teddy. It’s not only a nod to Butch’s arresting irises, but it pairs nicely with my honey-blond hair. A deep V splits the material to my navel, and the high cut over each hip dissolves to a G-string in the rear. This audacious getup emboldens me.
Butch has stripped down to his jeans and stands by the window, low lamplight casting a sexy glow across his muscular frame. He’s already turned down the bed, and the crisp white sheets beckon in open invitation.
I strike a pose, watching him for a minute. Because the view is spectacular—and I’m not talking about the city. “Hey, Lumberjack,” I coo.
His head swivels, body following as he drinks me in. He takes his time, eyes growing hungrier by the second.
The ache thrashing within me intensifies. I’m a woman starved. For him.
“Come here, gorgeous,” he murmurs, holding out a hand.
Gentlemen, start your engines…
I join him at the window. A furtive glance convinces me we’re high enough that no one can see us.
Butch places my palms against the glass and nudges his knee between my legs, forcing them wider. His lips graze my cheek. “Mine,” he says, that bass tone a lightning strike to my groin.
“Yours,” I breathe, already so aroused my nipples ache.
He nuzzles my throat, trailing his tongue over to the sensitive area by my ear. His hands stroke the length of my arms, across my breasts, along my hips, and tease the apex of my thighs. He growls appreciatively and my flesh ripples in response.
“You look like such a sexy, naughty girl…so beautiful, baby.” His kisses trail down my back as every one of my cells responds to his words .
I’m panting. Yes, yes, yesssssssss.
“Are you my pretty whore tonight? My toy? Mine to do with as I please?” His fingers tease my entrance and the other hand travels across my front to pinch my nipple through the lace. It’s scratchy against my tender skin, but I like it.
“Yes,” I croak.
He hums deep. His erection strains behind his jeans, pressing into me so hard that whimpers leave my throat. His assault continues and I’m so taut I may spontaneously combust.
“Butch,” I plead.
He spins me around. “On your knees, baby. Open that fuckable mouth.”
Oh, hell yeah. I sink to the carpet, salivating for him. He’s already unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his zipper partially undone. The teasing glimpse of his bulging cock floods my center anew.
He caresses my hair, stroking down my face, and lifts my chin. Our eyes fuse, and his burn with raw hunger. “Do you know what the sight of you like this does to me?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “Now pull out my cock and suck it like it’s all you’ll ever need.”
My eager hands obey, sighing with choked desperation when my fingers wrap around his girth.
I draw him hungrily into my mouth. He’s so hard, I marvel at all that strength.
His dirty talk has me spun up and I’ve never wanted anything more than to be used and defiled by this man for hours.
Butch’s king-size dick is difficult to manage in its entirety, but I’m on fire.
He leaves one hand fisted in my hair, feeding me every inch.
My throat opens to take him deeper and deeper with each pull of my hollowed cheeks.
“You can take it, Sundance, all of it ,” he murmurs.
I work harder, and a low “ fuuuuuuuck ” rolls from his lips.
Moaning around his girth, I revel in his rigidity, stark masculinity, at how he’s using me while revering me. It spurs me on, all my nerve endings tingling.
A quick glance shows his eyes blazing, focused on me inhaling him, pleasuring him. Barely distinguishable words tumble from his lips…“heaven” and “death of me” and “mine.”
My jaw labors at being stretched for so long, but then his strokes come faster, his hand steadfastly keeping me at his mercy as he fucks my mouth with abandon.
“I’m…coming…baby. Swallow every…drop.”
I moan just before his hips thrust and grind, bottoming out in my throat as I breathe quickly through my nose. Warmth spurts with his final thrusts, and his hand nearly rips my hair. Tears from the intensity leak from my eyes as his gaze latches on mine.
He pulls out, still partially hard, and I gulp down the essence pooling in my mouth.
Inhaling some deep breaths, I tilt my freed head up at my towering lumberjack.
He stares down at me, green eyes blacker and hazy with lust. He lifts me from the floor, kissing me with renewed energy.
His tongue sweeps mine, surprising me a little, considering.
But he’s resolute, claiming my mouth with intensity.
“I love that fucking mouth,” he says, palming the side of my face.
I smile up at him, gratified at pleasing him…not to mention myself.
“Get on the bed on all fours.” His deep, captivating voice brooks no argument.
I’m feral for dominant Butch, willing to do whatever he demands. I want it, all of it, whatever it is. I crawl onto the ready sheets as instructed, my vulnerable assets on display.
“Stunning,” Butch murmurs, his breath warming my ass before he kisses me there. He unsnaps the teddy and the material springs away from my crotch. His fingers coast along my pussy and slip inside.
I moan, my entire body trembling from his touch, the anticipation, the desire surging unchecked through my veins.
He hums. “Baby, you’re dripping. Did you like sucking my cock? Did it make you want to come?”
“Yessssss.”
“Such a good slutty girl.”
His thick fingers venture in further— god, I love his fingers —two, then three. I’m gasping when he licks up the underside of my ass cheek and lands on my…my…um, other hole. I’m ripped from my delirium as his wet tongue probes. When I stiffen, he stops.
“Relax, baby. I promise this will feel good if you get out of your head.”
For real?
“I’ve wanted this since the day we met. You have no idea how sexy you are, or what this means…you giving this to me. I want all of you, Sundance. All of you.”
I whoosh out a breath. “Okay.”
“Trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Mine?”
“Yours,” I breathe.
“Relax. Get ready to come like you never have before.”
That’s one hell of a promise, and I force myself to chill. Butch resumes exploring the playground. His fingers and tongue create a symphony of sensations, pushing through my remaining resistance with surprising ease.
Oh… my . What he’s doing back there, everywhere, it’s an advanced level of dirty sex with a hint of taboo. We’re crossing new barriers tonight.
His tongue seeks, soft but persistent, as he groans against my flesh. Then a finger replaces his mouth, gently swirling and probing. He pushes in the very tip, allowing me time to adjust. My breath comes in pants, my center wiggling and pulsing and then pumping toward him, begging for more .
And he gives me more.
The pressure…fullness…of this foreign pleasure steals the air from my lungs.
With his other hand strumming my pussy into a frenzy, I have zero notice before I combust with such force, my eyes squeeze shut and I wail through a powerful, raging orgasm.
Tremors wrack my body, my limbs shaking uncontrollably.
“ Ohhhhhh, baby …that’s my good girl,” Butch croons, voice husky with wondrous praise.
My eyes tear from the sheer intensity. He pulls me gently onto the bed and into his arms, kissing my hair and whispering I love you and baby, baby, baby . I’m shook…speechless…spent, my mind and body blown.
Butch rolls over top of me and kisses my forehead, eyelids, cheeks.
He’s reverent and tender, tugging my heart nearly out of my chest. My legs part, wrapping around his waist as he eases his hard length into me, his massive size stalling my breath until he’s all the way home.
His strokes start slow and decadent but soon lead to hard, possessive drives, the kind that hammer mine mine mine with each thrust. If I wasn’t his before, I am now. Fully. Unequivocally.
The revelation knots my throat as I stare up at my beautiful man and find his eyes fastened on mine in an unspoken love letter.
A man who pulled me from the trenches of despair and healed some of my brokenness.
Patched the worst holes in my heart. Restored my faith in men, in desire, in two hearts beating in harmony.
I’m yours.
After, he wraps me in his arms, murmuring more praise, adulation, appreciation.
When we’ve sufficiently recovered, Butch draws us a bath and pops the champagne. With a lazy smile, he holds out his hand to help me into the tub. My back slides against his front as I sink into the soothing bubbles.
He lets out a contented sigh. “I could get used to this. ”
Without even looking, I know he’s smiling. My toes peek out of the froth before submerging again. “Better get busy making those billions.”
The arm he has wrapped around my chest squeezes as he kisses the top of my head. “I’m already the richest man alive.”