Page 85 of Pandora's Pleasure

“I can only imagine.” He scrunched his nose. “They don’t know how lucky they are.”

“Thank you for the offer of work. I’m flattered. I mean, if it was up to me—”

My body erupted with sudden pleasure—the space between my thighs wired with a potent pulsing, a deep-rooted vibration within my pussy. “Oh, God!”

Palmer looked concerned. “Sorry?”

“What?”

“Are you okay?”

With my face burning up, I tried to catch a breath. “I just remembered I have to talk to…somebody. It’s amazing. I mean, it’s been lovely to see you again.”

“Likewise.” He gave a bow.

With a look of apology, I hurried through the crowd searching for Damien.

No one walkedawayfrom the Vice President. It wasn’t what you did, ever. It was always the other way around. You followed protocol and respected his rank as first in succession to the President.

My sex was alight with sensations coaxing me toward an orgasm—right here in the middle of a fucking garden party.

I’m going to kill him…

My fake fiancé was using a remote to pulse those spheres inside me to what felt like maximum oscillation.

I glared at him as I approached.

Damien raised a finger to indicate he was deep in conversation within a circle of journalists, and then waved to impress upon me he couldn’t be interrupted.

Ignoring him, I eased through the gathering and whispered, “Turn it off.”

He offered a polite smile to the men and women around him. “Excuse me for one second.”

Damien’s strong grip led me a few feet away. “I’m in the middle of an interview.”

“How dare you? Of all places. Turn it off.”

“I don’t have the control,” he said flatly.

“What?”

He smiled, seeing the blissful torment on my face.

“Listen to me,” I seethed. “If you don’t want me screaming—”

“You’re not a screamer.” He gave a shrug. “That’s what I’ve learned so far. There’s more of a slow, quiet build up and then your expression is one of pure joy. You moan softly when you finally climax.” He played with a strand of my golden hair. “No one will notice. Except me, of course. Come at will.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.” His thumb caressed my bottom lip. “You’re my break from the tediousness.”

“People are looking, Damien.”

“I love your dress. The color is—”

“Mr. Godman!”

He hesitated and then admitted, “I seriously don’t have the control.”