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“More,” she demanded. “Give me more.” She moved again to accommodate him deeper, faster, harder, moaning louder, whispering, pleading. His need for control faltered when her pussy accepted every inch of his thickness with each successive, agonizing thrust.
“Harder! I want the pain... the pleasure... the searing heat of you, Daddy,” she begged in a hoarse cry.
His fingers on her clit tugged, circled, and pinched with one goal—to bring her to the edge. She began to pant, and when she thrashed and bucked, his muscles clenched. A thunderous roar rippled in the back of his throat. Sera writhed, choking, groaning, screaming.
“Yes! God, yes!” Her lips trembled as a powerful orgasm rushed her to the top and pushed her over. The intensity of her climax yanked him right along with her as he also succumbed to the rush of pleasure.
For long moments, all she could do was cling to him, struggling to find her breath. Her emotions were floundering, threatening to drown her with waves of insecurities and yearnings she knew she could never give in to. This wasn’t real.
It could never be real. Not with their history. Not with the secret she kept locked so deep inside of her.
Sera wanted to tear out of his grasp as the thought crossed her mind. That was the ultimate conundrum she was faced with. Yet the truth she couldn’t deny was that this was what she had been searching for all her life. Her inner submissive craved the perfect Daddy Dominant who would always care for her and give her his best.
Now that it was within her grasp, it broke her heart that she could never have it.
Tanner had waited his entire life to find the right woman to share a special connection with and to guide her into the joy of learning to submit.
But Sera was different—so strong and beautiful, yet vulnerable and wanting. It was a potent combination. There was goodness and a quiet strength in her that drew Tanner, the way water attracted the thirsty and the dying.
This woman was going to make the ideal wife and mother to her children.
Tanner wanted to have both.
As a man, a Dom, and as Sera’s daddy.
Chapter Twelve
State Senate Government Office, Tallahassee, Florida State Capitol…
Senator Hank Brinkman wasn’t a happy man. Until recently, his voice had carried the most weight during their Senate sittings. He was the one everyone looked to when deciding new state laws. No debate. No discussion. Done and dusted. Of late, before any decision was reached or a consensus agreed upon, one question was always asked… “What would U.S. Senator Tanner Wilde do in a situation such as this?”
Ever since the younger man had been elected, every state across the country sang his praises. It irritated the shit out of Brinkman. It wasn’t as though Wilde had any say in their state legislation or could wield any power over any of them, but they all seem to think he's God’s gift to all that’s good and powerful in the U.S. Senate. What he said, they all wanted to follow, whether it was the right approach for their state or not.
“One would swear the bastard was hand-picked by POTUS,” he grumbled as he bit into the scrumptious chocolate croissant—the third one he was gobbling down in less than ten minutes. The delicacy was his daily energy source when he arrived at the office. It didn’t bother him that his secretary had to leave home before six in the morning, travel across town to his favorite bakery, and pick up his treat. As long as it waited for him, fresh and hot, on his desk when he walked in, he was happy… and her job safe.
“And the fuckface caused me to lose millions. For that, he’s gonna pay. I will get my money’s worth, even if it’s only in a pound of flesh.” Brinkman had a tendency to talk to himself. An age-old habit that had started when he was a kid when he used repetition out loud as a study method. Over the years, his own voice had become his most trusted companion when he was strategizing.
A deep frown drew his brows together. No one knew how the FBI had found out about the banking scheme. Someone on the inside must have ratted them out. How else would Wilde have known what they were planning?
“Exactly! I’d love to know how he found out about the Golden Wizards and that Jock Abrams was even involved with them.” He guzzled down the last of the chocolate pastry. “It’s time to start some digging of my own. Sanchigo is so focused on making Wilde and the Frazers pay, he’s lost sight of the fact we have a mole in our organization. One I’m relatively sure wasn’t caught when the banking scheme went bust. Perhaps it’s time to visit a good friend in prison.”
The chair creaked as he leaned his oversized body forward to press the speaker button on his phone. “Ms. Scott, please arrange a helicopter. I need to get to Tallahassee FCI… ASAP.”
FCI Tallahassee was located only three miles east of downtown Tallahassee, so he could easily go by car, but he preferred to make use of the benefits his position as senator granted him.
“The Federal Correctional prison?” Willa Scott was a fifty-two-year-old grandmother who took her job seriously, which included worrying over her boss’ safety. “Should I arrange bodyguards?”
“It’s a goodwill trip, so I don’t expect any trouble.”
“Either way, you know my philosophy, Senator. Rather be safe than sorry. You never know what could happen. Don’t forget the 2006 shooting incident at that prison. No one expected it to happen at the time, either.”
Brinkman smiled indulgently. It was no use snapping at her, especially since she meant good.
“That was a long time ago, Ms. Scott. Also, ever since then metal detector screening and bag searches of guards coming to work have been implemented and still enforced today.”
The unfortunate shooting and killing of an FBI agent and a penal correctional facility guard resulted when the FBI and Inspector General agents of the DOJ attempted to arrest six correctional officers. They were identified during a corruption investigation into correctional officers trading drugs and other contraband for sex with female inmates.
“No matter. I will ensure you have a protection detail waiting for you at the helipad.”
