He circled his hips with just the crest inside of me and I arched my back trying to pull him deeper inside of me, but Jack’s other hand pinned me in place where he wanted me. “Again.” He commanded.

“I belong to you. Only you.” My cry was desperate, I needed him inside of me so badly it was painful. But my response was raw and full of emotion and earned me what I wanted. Jack thrust into me deeply stretching me wide as he filled me to his root. He grinded deeply inside of me, desperate to go further. “Again.” His voice was throaty and deep.

“You, I belong to you, only you.” Jack held me in place, restraining my movement and pumping deep and hard into me as if his life depended on filling me.

His constant, rhythmic pounding over and over, deeper and deeper had me panting wildly and I was on the edge of what I knew would be a wild, soaring orgasm. I shut my eyes and began to let it wash over me as he continued his brutal thrusts.

“Open your eyes.”

My eyes flew open to meet his.

“Again.”

My orgasm ripped through me at his command. “I belong.” I moaned, unable to finish the sentence in one breath. His rhythm quickened and I knew he was unable to hold back much longer. “to you.” The last two words came out in a scream as the orgasm completely washed over my body, shaking me to my core. I felt the heat of Jack’s se**n run through me as he emptied his body and filled mine. He growled my name and my body collapsed spinelessly into his arms.

I was vaguely aware of Jack carrying me to the bedroom and covering me up, but I was exhausted and emotionally drained and my body needed to escape to rest.

***

The next morning I was surprised to find Jack next to me when I woke. We had established a routine of him getting up while I slept and me going to find him in his office hours later. “You’re still in bed.” I smiled and snuggled closer to him.

He spoke with his lips in my hair as he kissed the top of my head. “I couldn’t leave you this morning.” I knew what he meant. I needed him next to me that morning after the night we had too. “I’m glad you couldn’t.” I spoke softly.

I rested my head on his naked chest, playing with the smattering of hair, twirling it between my fingers. “My mom is coming down for a visit next weekend.” His hand had been stroking my hair and stopped in its place. “Do you want me to meet her?”

I thought about the question before asking. “I don’t think I have a choice. I sort of mentioned I met someone and she started an interrogation over the phone. If she doesn’t get to meet you, she won’t sleep for a month.”

Jack laughed lightly and I was relieved that he didn’t seem bothered by my response. “Where is she staying?” I hadn’t thought about it. My apartment was small, but she could share my bed with me for a night or two and deal with the close space. Although there would be ab-solutely no escaping her inquisition in such a small area. “My place I guess, we didn’t really talk about it.”

“I’ll book you a suite here, so you can each have your own bedroom. I’ll tell the manager to book you both a day at the spa so you can relax and get pampered together.” I raised my head to look at him.

“That’s very sweet, but I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask, I offered, and I want to do it. Plus, I have my own secret agenda. It keeps you closer to me and butters up your mom for me.” I laughed. “I can’t image any woman would need any buttering for them to not fall head over heals for you.” Jack rolled on top of me playfully.

“Is that so?”

“You’re a mother’s dream. Tall, dark and handsome, good manners, straight teeth and wealthy.”

“What about her daughter’s dream. How am I doing there?”

“Fulfilling them all.” I lifted my head to kiss him softly.

Chapter 20

The next week flew by and I was surprised that I was actually looking forward to my mom’s visit. Lyle had complained, but gave me Saturday night off, and the thought of staying at the Heston Grand and having all day spa treatments with my mom was exciting. At first, my mother balked at the idea of staying at a hotel, but then I filled her in on Jack and his hotels and she warmed to the idea quickly. She sounded excited to visit and I realized that I had missed her and was excited to see her too.

Jack had insisted on Mateo picking up my mom Saturday morning and had arranged what sounded like an amazing day.

Brunch in Café Dumo, the hotel’s five star restaurant, followed by massages, manicures and pedicures, and wash and blow outs at the Luxor Spa. He had booked us into the Presidential Suite, one floor below Jack’s Penthouse, which occupied the entire top floor.

Jack gave me the key to the suite Saturday morning and told me that he had work to do all day and would meet us at our room at seven, before dinner. I took the elevator down one floor and found the entire floor had suites named after presidents.

Each single door had a carved sign with a president’s name and a silhouette of the president’s profile. Following the signs for the presidential suite, I passed Ford, Lincoln, Washington and Kennedy. As I passed the Kennedy suite, I remembered that Jack had said that he kept a “sex suite” and wondered if one of them was his secret love shack. Perhaps the Kennedy suite? After all, his name was Jack and he was known as the womaniz-ing president. I hated the thought of Jack’s suite seeping into my brain to darken the day after all that Jack had done to make the day perfect for my mom and I.

I arrived at the double door Presidential Suite and slipped in the key to open it.

The smell of fresh flowers hit me immediately as I entered. The suite was beautiful and enormous. Floor to ceiling windows overlooking Manhattan, glistening white marble floors and three huge bouquets of all white roses sat in sparkling crystal vases spread across the grand living room. To the right was a working fireplace, with a huge wooden carved mirror hanging above the mantle. To the left was a dining room, a small kitchen and a long hallway, which I assumed lead to the bedrooms.

I had expected the suite to be nice, but it was beyond anything that I could have imagined. It hadn’t dawned on me that the suite was truly a presidential suite and it was likely that it had housed actual presidents in the past. I walked to the dining room table, where a card was perched up on one of the vases that houses at least two dozen roses. I opened the card, recognizing Jack’s handwriting immediately. Syd, Hope you enjoy the suite. The thought of you being so close, yet not in our bed, is going to kill me tonight. Jack.