Page 58 of The Press Secretary's Passion
We lie there on the sofa, his front to my back and his body covering mine while our breaths saw in and out of our bodies. Sex with Ryan has always been fantastic, but this was… more. This was raw, and it was real. It was need, and it was frustration. And I have the feeling that it signifies a major change in our standard operating procedure.
Before I have a chance to put too much thought into it, he pushes up onto his knees and pulls out. He stands beside the sofa, and I feel him looking down at me, but I don’t turn my head to confirm it, because even though he’s said over and over that we’re happening, I can’t help but wonder if now that he’s had an orgasm if he’s going to pull up his pants and leave like he usually does. And I know he said he was protecting me, but still, in my heart of hearts, I always wish he’d just stay.
I don’t have to wait too long, because he tenderly places his hands on me and rolls me to my back. And then he scoops me up like a bride and carries me up the stairs to my bedroom, where he places me delicately in the center of the bed and shimmies the covers out from under me.
I watch as he takes off his dog tags, puts them in his pocket, and strips off his clothes. His hard cock still springs free from the parted material of his jeans, which he shoves down his legs and steps out of.
And then he crawls up the bed and covers my body with his. I let my legs open, and he falls between them before rising up on his forearms to take his weight off me. I feel the heat of him at my center, and he looks in my eyes as he slowly slides deep inside.
I wrap my arms and legs around him and hold him to me, while he tenderly glides in and out of my body. He gently touches his lips to mine, and we breathe each other in, but we never close our eyes. Instead, we hold that connection while we connect in other ways, in every way imaginable.
This time is different.
Before, it was wild and out of control like a forest fire. Now, the fire is still there, but it’s banked. This is not about need and frustration, instead a deeper emotion, one I’m not ready to put a name to.
He rocks us slowly together, like a boat on calm seas, and then, with our eyes locked, and wrapped up in each other’s arms, he takes us there again, and we both find completion together.
“Be with me,” he whispers against my mouth. Our bodies are still entwined and joined in the most intimate of ways.
“What?” I whisper back.
“Be with me,” he says again, this time stronger. “Be with me in all the ways that matter. I want to be with you during the day and in the light, where we don’t hide it away. I want you to get to know my kids and them you. And then when the time is right, I want to give you those babies you want. My babies.”
“Ryan,” I whimper.
“Say yes.”
“Yes.”
He closes his eyes in relief and then presses his mouth to mine. He pulls out and rolls, taking me with him so I’m curled in his arms, and he pulls the covers over us.
“Ryan,” I say, and I can hear the disappointment in my voice. “You can’t stay. Not now.”
“I’m going to stay as long as I can,” he replies and then kisses me once more. “But first, we have to talk.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that.” I sigh.
“I think we take the next week for just us but be clear with Jake and Rick what’s going on,” he says.
“I don’t like the idea of having this conversation with my boss.”
“Jake knows it’s me in the video,” Ryan states, rocking my world.
“What?” I gasp.
“Honey, he’s known me for years. He knows why I have that tattoo, because he was on the op when it happened.”
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah,” he agrees. “And one day, I’ll tell you about it.”
“Okay,” I say, because I’m not going to pressure him to tell me any of it unless he’s ready to. That’s his story to tell, not mine.
“I think in a week, we go out.”
“Like on a date?” I prompt, and he laughs.
“Yeah, like a date. We should have been dating all along, if I hadn’t been behaving like a horse’s ass.”
