HIS FIRST LADY(SANDRO MARCOS)

Chapter 3: Can I See You Once More?

Sandro immediately agrees. He effortlessly opens my mouth by crashing our lips together and licking his tongue inside. He walks over the bed before slowly lowering me onto it without kissing.

We take a brief breather and use it to reorient ourselves. I work my way up the mattress with elbows until my head is resting on the pillows. Sandro then crawls over me after kicking off his shoes.

I skillfully pluck at his shirt buttons before he even reaches me again. I have all the buttons undone and slide my hands underneath by the time his mouth is once more in mine. Under that, he is wearing a thin, skin-tight tank top. Every sharp curve of his muscled chest is traced by me.

Keeping his mouth on mine, he tugs the shirt off of himself and tosses it to the side. He breaks the kiss only long enough to lift his tank top up over his head.

For a moment m, he's on his knees towering over me, his bare skin on display through the open window, the moonlight illuminating him like a sex god sent to earth just for me.

"Sandro," I sigh, and grinning, he lowers back down on rope of me.

I lift my head to kiss him again. He tastes sweet, like honey and whiskey. But this time, he keeps his mouth just out of reach.

"You look hot as hell in this dress, Rafha," he says. His grin is devilish. "But I can't wait to see you out of it."

"Then what are we waiting for?" I ask. His flirtation stroke my confidence and I roll over to give him access to the zipper down my back.

He grabs it with his fingers right away and slowly pulls it down, revealing my naked back inch by careful inch. I know I made the right decision tonight by the time he kisses every inch of new skin the zipper reveals when he drops his mouth to kiss it. My tailbone is where the zipper ends. Sandro then begins to work together. To assist him, I shimmy. We take that tight dress off my body together. Sandro goes on and on. He also takes my pants off.

"Roll over," he whispers, voice strained and breathy. "Let me see your beautiful body."

Who am I to deny him? "Only if I get to see yours."

"I promise." He starts to shuffle over top of me. He must move at lightning speed, because as I roll onto my back and gaze up at him, he's naked now too. Holding his 9-inch d*ck in his hands, he strokes himself slow and steady as his eyes drop to take me in.

"Christ," he groans through gritted teeth. "I'm going to fucking cum just looking at you."

My pussy weeps at his words. My nipples tighten into hard little buds. His words and the ways he's looking at me makes me feel so sexy in my own skin. I've never felt like this before-so wantonly desired.

"I'm not satisfied yet.." I say, my voice matching with its lust-roughness.

"Baby, we're just getting started," he growls and drops down to kiss me.

Two minutes later, his mouth is matched onto one my nipples, suckling, as he teases the other with firm flicks of his tongue. I arch my back, wanting more.

He's down between my open thighs five minutes later, lapping at my p*ssy like a man on the verge of starvation. He pushes me deep inside with his tongue in a ruthless manner before lifting away to clasp my clit instead.

I scratch at his head as I run my fingers through his hair. He only benefits from this. I scream as he sucks so hard. Before finally burying his hard d*ck inside of me, he makes me cum twice.

He fucks me so hard that the bed frame hits the wall. We have no concern. I can barely hear anything but the sound of my own heart because I am so engulfed in bliss.

Only his moans break through. "God, yes.Fuck. Rafha!"

I grip both hands in fists at the pillow behind my head. Sandro reaches up and untangles one of my hands, but only so that he can slid his fingers through mine.

We hold onto each other as we chase our pleasure. Climbing, pushing, pulling, begging more and more..

Then, at last...

"S-Sandro!!"

As we come down from our high, Sandro startles me as he snuggles in behind me. The sweat has not yet cooled from our skin when he asks, "Can I see you again?"

I don't know what he's asking me. Does he hope to be a monthly retainer? No way he could actually want me to keep him.

Either, I doubt I can afford. So I don't answer him.

Soon, he drifts off to sleep without asking a second time.

I retrieve my checkbook from my purse. Because I don't know how much he owes me, I give him a black check with his name, Sandro Marcos, his signature, the date, and nothing else on it. I hope that is not a fake name. I glance back once at the door to see his sleeping form.

He was so handsome, his dark hair partially covering his eyes and the sheets twisted around his naked body.

I tried very hard to look away, but I eventually got out of the room and started the long journey home.

In the morning, Samuel never asks where I was last night. Maybe he saw me sleeping on the couch and assumes I stayed there all night. Or, more likely, he just doesn't care.

After the girls depart, Samuel lingers. He frowns at my pajama and my unkempt hair. "You couldn't find time to make yourself presentable? We have meeting with your father in ten minutes."

"We do?"

Samuel has not mentioned it before now. I would have written it on my calendar if he had.

Still, he says, "I told you."

He's a liar through and through.

I tun to clean myself up as much as I can in ten minutes. Then I sit beside Samuel on the couch, just in time for the video call to start on his laptop.

To see the screen, I have to inch close to him. My stomach turns as I do so. I haven't decided what to do with Samuel yet. For the girls sake, I need to consider my options carefully. But I'm not ready to be this close to him right now.

Especially when I keep thinking about Sandro.

The meeting begins, revealing my adoptive father and several more of my other family members. I glower when I see Kaylee among them.

The call's aren't unusual. Father likes to take charge of everything, ever worried about preserving his legacy.

"Senator Marcos is retiring by the end of the year," Father says. I don't bother asking how he knows that.

"The father of the son?" Asks one of my uncles.

"The son is a Representative, not a Senator," Father continues.

My mind wanders m. Isn't Marcos is the last name of the DJ? What does it matter now? That has to be a coincidence.

I return to the conversation too late, distracted by Sandro once again.

"I expect to see you all at the Senator's event on the 12(th) at the Rockview Elite Country Club," Father says.
"No one is exempt." He ends the call, just like that.

I exhale a length breath.

"We're not attending this meeting," Samuel says.

I take another breath in. "What?" Samuel could take advantage of the large number of politicians and wealthy businesspeople in attendance to establish connections.

Why would he want to decline that chance?