Loving February – The President’s Daughters Read Online M.K. Moore, ChaShiree M

Categories Genre: Alpha Male Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 87(@200wpm)___ 70(@250wpm)___ 58(@300wpm)
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“Who was at the door, Jerry?” a beautiful woman comes around the corner. She looks like a Jazzercise girl from the 80s. Big hair and spandex as far as the eye can see.

“February and Connall,” Connall says, answering for the both of us.

“Well, aren’t you a cute couple?”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Nonsense with that ma’am stuff. I’m Janice. Come in. I just made some fresh sweet tea.”

“Thank you, ma’am… Janice,” I quickly correctly when she looks at me.

We spend forty-five minutes in the apple orchard with Jarrell and Janice. They were probably the nicest people we’ve met with yet.

“Do you have any children?” Janice asks as she sits down on Jarrell’s lap.

“No,” I say at the same time Connell says, “not yet.”

“Our youngest just started high school in the fall and our oldest just got married.”

“That’s nice. I’d like to have a large family myself,” I say. Connall looks like a deer in the headlights.

“Have not you talked about that yet?” Jarrell asks, laughing.

“No,” I say embarrassed. “We haven’t.” Connall grabs my hand.

“We will,” he says reassuring me.

“So how did y’all meet?” Janice asks.

“Oh, Connall is my boss.”

“Oooh. There’s nothing like a workplace romance. It’s one of my favorite genres.”

“Surprisingly enough, me too,” I say laughing.

One glass of ice tea turns into two, which turns into lunch. I even exchanged numbers with Janice. I promised to keep in touch with her.

We check into the hotel and decide to stay in. We order room service and climb into bed. The hotel provided us with a deck of cards when Connall asked for them. We played Rummy and War for a while until I was ready to lie down. He lets me watch the Food Network until I can’t take it anymore. He’s been steadily stroking his hands on my body for hours now. I turn the TV off and roll on top of him. He pushes my robe open. I’m naked underneath. Ready for him. I’m always ready for him.

“Fuck, babe,” he groans as his hands cup my breasts. He rolls my nipples around his fingers until they are tight buds. I push his robe open and fist his cock. His perfect, perfect cock. “You want to ride my cock?”

“Oh my god, yes. Please let me ride your cock. I need it. I need you,” I breathe.

“You beg so prettily, babe. Are you wet for me?”

“Always.”

“Good girl. Raise up onto your knees.” I do, and he grips his cock, guiding it into my pussy.

“Yesss,” I hiss as I fully seat myself on him. I feel so full this way. So powerful.

I ride him for long minutes until he flips me onto my back and pounds into me. Harder and harder, the headboard hitting the wall. Over and over, he drives into me, leaving me breathless and reaching for more. He owns me body and soul, and I never want that to change. I’m his in every way.

“Take my cock, babe.” He grunts above me. He’s sweating, a drop hits my belly, and instead of being grossed out, it turns me on more. I tighten my legs around his waist and take the railing he gives me. I’m so close to coming. When he strums my clit, I lose my mind.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” I shout.

He leans down and kisses me.

“Sleep, my love,” he whispers into my ear sending shivers down my spine. He pulls the covers over us and me closer to him.

I really do love him, I think, as I place kisses all over his chest. I really, really do. I always have and I always will.

CHAPTER

TEN

CONNALL

Raleigh, North Carolina, is also turning out to be unsuccessful, but it is also lots of fun. We met with Edmond Handcock, who was a riot. Apparently, after he left the service, he realized he was gay and loved to dress in women's clothes, so we were greeted by a drag queen. He told us in the only way he could that he never donated but that he wished he had because that would have been his only chance to have a baby. He invited us to a drag show which we gladly went to and had a wonderful time.

With only two days left in this state before we move on to the last place, we decided to go to the North Carolina Museum of Art for today since we both have a love of all art, and she is hell-bent on driving two and a half hours tomorrow to hit Pit Road Bar & Grill in Charlotte, a place Guy Fieri went to of course.

Right now, we are standing in front of Pierre-Jacques Volaire’s Eruption of Mt. Vesuvius. “It’s so strong,” she whispers in reverence. “I mean, you can see the panic in the shading. The way he captured the cover of the city in fire.” I nod my head. I know what she means. I have always loved this painting, but right now, I am more focused on her. This woman consumes my every thought, and now that we have shared the ultimate connection, all I want to do is lock her down and make her my wife. The problem is, we haven’t said I love you outside of being in the throes of passion. I have been waiting for the right moment.


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