Mr. President (White House #1)(44)

I nod.

He grabs the back of my neck and holds me still and kisses me.

The next few minutes, I’m trembling under his kisses and caresses. His hand running from the top of my head down to my feet as he removes my shoes. I feel protected, cherished …

What we’re doing is risky, but how can it be wrong when it feels so right?

Matt eases back and cups my face, and he looks so hot right now, I could be staring at the sun. He’s staring at me as if I dazzle him too, and the smile on his lips softens a little as his eyes start pulsing like a living, breathing thing. We’re both high from the adrenaline, the forbiddenness of finally, finally giving in to this attraction between us.

He scoops me up by the hips and lifts me in the air, just a few inches, so that my lips are exactly where he wants them.

And he takes them. Hard.

His lips forcing mine apart, his tongue plunging, his head angled for the best, most instant access.

The longing that’s been building inside of me bubbles up and I wrap my arms around his shoulders.

It feels as if every day since I joined his campaign, I’ve been waiting for this. To feel Matt’s hands around me, holding me to his hard chest. Engulfing me in his strong embrace.

All my resistance vanishes as his tongue strokes mine, and I suck and lick and rub his tongue back in a whirl of heat and passion and recklessness. I tighten my arms around his neck, and he makes a low sound from deep in his chest, as if he approves of my wild kiss.

He’s breathing fast, but I’m breathing faster. He sets me on my feet, and his hand covers my cheek and his fingers stroke along my temples. “I’ve been trying to do the right thing. I f*cking can’t,” he says.

“Don’t.”

I turn my lips to nip at the heel of his palm. He releases a sound I’d never heard him make before, like a growl that contains one word inside it: Charlotte.

His lips smash down on mine.

We kiss madly for about thirty seconds, then pull free to study each other.

I look into his face, and he stares down at me, still the guy I craved when I was younger, but now so much hotter, and more unattainable than ever.

Nothing matters, it doesn’t matter.

All I know is I want him. My body is so on fire I could splinter any second.

I take his hand and put it on my shirt and drag it lower, lower, beneath the fabric of my blouse, then upward, pressing it to my breast—over my bra.

Matt rewards me with a slow, languorous, sensual smile as he cups me fully in his warm grasp.

He leans in and kisses me slowly this time, stroking his thumb over my nipple. I let his hand remain on my breast, thrilled when he flicks open a button with his free hand and steals it under my shirt. Now both my breasts are getting fondled.

Teased.

Kneaded.

Swallowing back a groan, I grip his shoulders and fist the fabric of his shirt in my hands, arching up against him.

“I want to strip you down and run my tongue over every inch of you,” he rasps. His body vibrates with his desire, and I can see that he likes how I’m rubbing up against him like a cat.

He peels my blouse away and exposes me in my lace bra.

“God, you’re so beautiful I need to see all of you.” He takes me in with his eyes, then our mouths are fusing back together. He kisses me with relish, as if he plans to enjoy me all night. Yes!

Things are getting heated when there are noises out in the hotel hall.

Matt peels his lips away.

He lifts his head and turns to watch the door, and I wait, holding my breath. His nostrils flare as the noises fade.

Doubts try to trickle in, but they don’t stand a chance against this—against him.

He glances back at me, his chest heaving, his lips tipping a little. He looks at me and licks his lips. “Charlotte, Charlotte. You have no idea the kinds of things I want to do to you, baby.”

Show me! Do it!

For long seconds, he looks down at my lace bra and slowly lowers his head and captures one nipple. He flicks it with his tongue. It’s already hard, but when he sucks over the thin fabric, it hardens more.

His growl excites me.

I groan and rub my hands over his back when he eases his hands between our bodies, under the waistband of my skirt. His fingers slip into my panties, brushing over my folds.

“Give me this, beautiful,” he part growls, part croons as he finds my nub, my folds, and teases his finger along my wetness. “God, give me everything.”

“Please.” I tilt my hips as he pushes his finger inside me.

I clench around him, my whole body tightening as a low mewl bubbles up my throat.

“That’s right, baby, do you like it when I do this?” he asks thickly as he inserts a second finger.

He’s easing my bra down and circling the tip of his tongue across my bared nipple, murmuring, “God, you’re so gorgeous like this,” when there’s a knock on the door.

Matt peels his lips away and curses under his breath, extracting his finger and licking it clean.

That has to be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, god help me.

Smirking, he heads to the door. He looks through the peephole and then waits until I straighten my clothes before he opens it.

Wilson steps inside swiftly and shuts the door. “Someone must have recognized you and tipped off the press. We need to leave, Matt.” He’s frowning and seems to be avoiding looking at me.