Page 8 of The Press Secretary's Passion
He pulls the passenger door open for me, and I slide in just before he slams it closed. I do not turn to him as he walks around and climbs in the driver seat. He does not look at me as he turns the key to start the engine or as he backs out of the old barn and heads back to D.C. In fact, he acts as if I’m not even there the entire two-hour drive back to the city and then on through to my home in Virginia. And I’m all too happy to return the favor. I opt to spend the trip with my arms folded across my chest and my eyes trained straight through the front windshield.
When he pulls into my driveway, I can’t move fast enough as I grapple with the buckle of my seatbelt and snatch up my purse.
“Stay here,” he barks at me, and I see red.
“I don’t think so.”
“I said stay here,” he repeats. “I’ll walk you to your door.”
“I’m a big girl, Captain,” I snark. “I don’t need you to see me to my door.”
“Well I’m going to do it anyways, duchess, so get fucking used to it.”
I barely hold in a scream as he steps down from his door, stomps around to my side, and yanks open my door before hauling my body down from the SUV. Ryan is such a dick, and I wonder not for the first time when I started thinking of him as Ryan and not Captain Black.
He wraps his large hand around my upper arm and practically perp-marches me to my front door. I don’t believe this. Who does he think he is, treating me this way? I’ve just pulled my keyring out of my brown leather hobo purse when they are snatched out of my hand, and Ryan expertly selects the key to my front door like he does it every day.
I stand there stunned, and I’m sure my mouth is hanging open as he unlocks the deadbolt and pushes the door open. And then, since I was still standing there in stunned silence, he puts a palm to my belly and gently shoves me through the door.
I’m about to tell him to go straight to hell when he follows me over the threshold and kicks the door shut behind him.
“Are you over your fucking snit?” he asks, and I narrow my eyes on him. What a dick!
“Are you done being an asshole?”
“No,” he answers. “Not fucking likely.”
“Then no, I’m also not over my snit.”
I don’t know who moves first, and likely, I never will. It could have been me, as I jump in his arms, or it could have been Ryan as his arm struck out to grab me. All I know is I’m in his arms with my legs wrapped around his lean hips as he crushes his mouth down on mine.
I don’t hesitate when he opens over me and let him thrust his tongue into my mouth. I dig my fingers through his hair and pull him closer. I can’t get enough, and I hold him to me as tight as I can.
Thanks to my skirt, his hard length presses against the gusset of my panties through the worn, soft denim of his jeans, and the feeling sends an electric current through my body. I rock my hips against him, needing more, more, more, and he grips my ass tight in his hands as he groans into my mouth.
Ryan dips his hand down the back of my panties to between my thighs. He circles my opening with a finger, just barely grazing my clit with each pass. I tip my ass back, needing his fingers on me, which takes me away from his cock, but he’s so good with his fingers that it doesn’t disappoint when he dips just the tip of one inside me on a pass.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he bites out. “My prissy duchess is wet for me.”
“Yes,” I pant as I reach my hips back for more while I slip my arms between us and unbuckle his belt.
“Fucking drenched for me.”
I get half the buttons down on his fly before I give up and reach inside. I wrap my hand around his thickness and barely register as he curses I’m so intent on my goal, and I pull his cock free. It’s long and hard and thick, and I want it. I pump him in my hand, wanting him to feel as crazed and as far gone as I am.
“Show me your tits,” he growls as he hits my clit with a fingertip, distracting me from my mission. “Now.”
I nod as I let go of him and slide my hands up between us to undo the buttons on the front of my poplin blouse. My hands shake as I go one by one down to my belly button, and he watches me with dark eyes, burning my skin as I go.
“Show me,” he says as he brushes my clit again, and I part the material of my blouse, revealing my lace bra. I pull the cups down, exposing my pink nipples, and I immensely enjoy the flare of his pupils as he takes me in, so I decide to push him a little more by pinching my stiff peaks.
His response is everything.
Ryan roars as he drops forward, taking the tip of my breast into his mouth and sucking hard as we fall. He controls the impact by taking the brunt of it on his knees before my back hits the floor. I can feel the cool tile of the entryway through my blouse, but it doesn’t matter, because I am on fire.
He scores my nipple with his teeth as he rips out the seam of my panties before thrusting two fingers deep inside me.
“Yes,” I pant.
