23.2
Georgina
I thought that the return to Denver, back to my normal life and the foundation, would take whatever was happening between Nathaniel and Adriano and I down a notch. After all, the threat of my security detail leaking details of my personal life to my parents is hanging over me like a black cloud.
Except that threat hasn't done anything to dampen what's happening with the three of us.
I’ve become reckless - completely and utterly reckless. I told Blair and David that I was working on a football-related charity project with Adriano and Nathaniel that required visits to their house and vice-versa.
It was quite possibly the stupidest thing I’ve ever said to anyone while keeping a straight face. To their credit, they didn’t flinch or say anything other than “Noted, ma’am.”
I haven’t gotten any frantic phone calls from my parents, so Blair and David haven’t ratted me out – yet. I tell myself that Secret Service agents keep all kinds of secrets, that even if they suspected anything they have zero evidence that anything untoward is happening. I tell myself that they’re professionals.
Unlike me. I used to be a professional, but my level of professionalism might be very quickly spiraling downward.
“Your call with Robert Brownstone was rescheduled.” Jane’s voice is loud over the speaker on the phone.
“Perfect. I’ll catch up on –“
“Wait. The call was rescheduled, so I slid a donor into the spot,” Jane says. “He’s here now.”
“Great.” I keep my voice cheerful, even though I really would rather watch paint dry than schmooze a donor right now.
At least, that’s true until I see who the donor is.
“Ms. Aschberg,” Nathaniel says, his words clipped, his tone professional. He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and his hair is wet, like he just got out of the shower.
“Mr. Ashby,” I say, extending my hand to shake his. Electricity runs through me at his mere touch and my body aches for him, despite seeing him and Adriano last night. He holds my hand a few moments too long before releasing it. “Jane, how much time do I have?”
“Thirty minutes,” she says before answering another call.
“Plenty of time,” Nathaniel says gruffly, his eyes locked on mine. I turn around, the throbbing between my legs almost too intense to bear as I walk back to the office with Nathaniel behind me. I can feel his gaze on me as I walk. Inside the office, he closes the door and locks it immediately, his hand going straight to the nape of my neck before I even turn around. “I couldn’t wait until tonight.”
“Who said there was going to be a tonight?” I whisper as he pushes me forward, going straight to the window that overlooks a busy street. He puts my palms flat on the glass, his hands going to my skirt and yanking it up at the sides.
“There’s going to be a tonight,” he growls, his voice low in my ear.
“You didn’t even ask if this window was see-through from the outside,” I whisper, as he hikes my skirt over my backside and yanks my panties down my thighs.
“If this window was see-through, you wouldn't have let me pull up your skirt, Georgina," Nathaniel growls.
Okay, so maybe I'm not that reckless. I might be reckless enough to let Nathaniel Ashby pull my panties off and push me up against my office window, but not reckless enough to screw him in public.
Yet.
At the rate I'm losing my inhibitions, I may be fucking Nathaniel and Adriano in the damn White House next week.
That should strike fear into my heart, but in this moment, all I can think about is how much I want them.
“Adriano’s not with you,” I say, half a question and half a statement, but I'm immediately distracted by Nathaniel’s fingers between my legs.
“Fuck, you’re so damn wet already,” Nathaniel growls. He doesn’t need to tell me to spread my legs. I step wider to give him access, like some kind of reflex, and he pushes his fingers inside me so easily.
“I think I’m wet all the time,” I whisper. I think I’m walking around in a constant state of arousal now, between being fucked by them and thinking about being fucked by them. It’s a high, some kind of addiction they’ve triggered, and I don’t want to come down from it.
“Adriano's coming soon. Right now, you’re all mine.”
Oh, God. I’m close to coming already myself.
“This pussy is so wet for me, Georgina,” Nathaniel whispers, his voice gruff. “So ready all the time. Tell me how ready you are.”
I whimper softly as he pulls his fingers from between my legs and the crinkle of a condom wrapper fills the room. “I’m so ready,” I whisper.
“Tell me how much you want me to fuck you,” Nathaniel growls. “Tell me how much you want to feel my cock inside you.”
I can’t resist reaching between my legs to rub my clit. “I want to feel your hard cock inside - ”
He doesn’t wait until I’m finished telling him before he enters me. With one long, swift thrust, he's inside me. I breathe in sharply at the sensation of fullness, at his hands on my breasts through my shirt, at the way he pulls me against him over and over as he begins to fuck me.
This isn’t like other times he and Adriano have fucked me, when they’ve taken their time, brought me to the edge over and over just to torment me before letting me have my release. This time is raw. It's primal. It's all about taking the edge off. I think that’s true for both of us.
He fucks me hard, and I meet every one of his thrusts with mine, pushing my ass back against him, one palm on the window and another on my clit. I’m just as greedy as he is, not waiting for my pleasure but taking it from him, losing myself in him as he thrusts faster and faster inside me. His hand is on my hair, pulling my head back, using it for leverage as he rides me.
“God, I want to come inside you, sweetheart,” Nathaniel growls, his hand yanking my hair for emphasis, sending shocks of pain radiating through me, that are mixed with pleasure. I think I’m drunk, intoxicated by my near-climax, my fingers moving faster and faster over my clit as I fly higher and higher.
