The President's Daisy (Flowers of the Month)

For the first time ever, I know that I am about to take what I want. “Sir? Are you alright? You haven’t said anything for, like, six minutes. You’ve just been staring at me.” She waves her hand in front of my face, but I stare blankly. My mouth has gone dry. When the hell did she take her blazer off? Her white blouse is practically see-through. I don’t want other men to see her that way. For the first time, it crosses my mind that she could have a boyfriend, and I seethe. Instead of getting angry or asking inappropriate questions, I clear my throat before speaking.

“Hmm?” I ask, not knowing what the hell she said.

“Do you need to sit down?”

“No, Miss Daisy, I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?” she asks skeptically.

“I’m fine,” I reply, hoping that reassures her.

“I think this is the part where you tell me what my duties are.”

“Of course,” I say, forcing myself to get back to the business at hand.

I quickly give her a quick rundown of what is needed, but it doesn't feel right. I leave her in peace and go into the oval, where I suck in deep breaths. The thought of her being just outside this door in the anteroom all alone makes me want to go back out there. Every fantasy was so vivid, culminating in our wedding. Marriage has never been a priority of mine. I’ve barely dated and never felt the same need to fuck anything that moved as my friends did, so I didn’t, but now, my cock is hard, and I want to fill her. I want to dominate her little curvy body and make her mine.

Twenty minutes later, there is a brisk knock on the door before it’s pushed open. Daisy glides toward me, a cup of coffee in hand.

“The steward said you didn’t like coffee that much, so I took the liberty of making you an Earl Gray tea from my private stash.”

“Are you trying to poison me?” I ask, chuckling.

“Of course not. I would never,” she says, clearly appalled.

“I know that, Daisy. I was kidding,” I tell her.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have said it. Have a seat. Let me get to know you,” I tell her. Instead of sitting on the chair next to the desk, she hops up onto the desk, crossing her legs. Every brain cell I had left pretty much explodes. The more she talks about herself, the more I want her. She even has a cat named Buttons.

“I should get back to work, sir. I’ve talked your ear off long enough,” she says, shifting her body.

“Sweet Jesus,” I groan, as her skirt raises a little bit. Who would have thought that a flash of her knee would set me on fire? My dick is uncomfortably hard because of her. She’s so fucking gorgeous.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking,” she says, going to move. My hand springs out and touches her knee. I don’t even remember making the decision to do that. “Mr. President,” she breathes.

“Taylor,” I say, standing and moving between her legs.

“Taylor.” She uncrosses her legs and spreads them as much as she is able to in that fucking sinful skirt.

Without another thought, my lips are on hers. Everything feels right for the first time since that night, maybe ever. I move my lips to her neck and breathe in her perfume for the first time. She smells like Christmas and seduction, I don’t know what to make of that, but it’s intoxicating.

“Daisy, Daisy, Daisy,” I chant before using my teeth to open the first four buttons on her blouse. I need better access to her chest; I want my lips all over her.

“What are we doing?” she asks between heated kisses.

“Starting to fall in love,” I say without hesitation because that’s what this feels like.

“Mmm,” she moans. “Okay, I can get behind that,” she says, brushing her lips on my neck. Her hands roam the expanse of my chest, and she pushes my suit jacket off of my shoulders.

“You are such a temptation, Daisy,” I groan, pushing her skirt up to her hips.

“One, you don’t have to resist. I’m here to help you, Mr. President. Whatever you need, whatever you desire, it’s yours,” she says, fumbling with my belt. Could she be any more perfect?

Is this really happening, or have I fallen asleep? Her nails dig into my arm, and I know that I’m awake.

Looking down, of course, she’s wearing white panties. Groaning, I reach out and run my finger up and down her pussy. I see and feel the wet spot right on the center of her panties. It makes me feel like a fucking god. She’s just as affected by me as I am by her. I slowly push her tiny white lace panties to the side and slide my hard cock into her. Something tells me that she’s every bit as pure as I am. Pushing in slowly, I feel her cherry. Looking down at her, she smiles at me and nods. I don’t need anything else before I break through that barrier, claiming her for my own. It’s beyond clear to me that she’s meant to be mine and only mine.