Dutch and Gina: The Power of Love (26 page)

Dutch, however, was even more determined.
 
“You cannot go and meet some governor somewhere and have him backdoor your brother into a pardon.
 
I’m not going to let you be a party to that, Gina.
 
Not because I don’t want your brother to get whatever he can get, but because I love you.
 
And you’re my responsibility, not that brother of yours.
 
You’re mine, Gina.
 
Do you hear me?
 
You’re my responsibility.”

They were now staring into each other’s eyes.
 
And something changed.
 
Their fighting spirit was suddenly replaced by a jarring reality of what they were doing and who they were doing it too.
 
And all Dutch could now see was the sincerity in Gina’s eyes.
 
And the sweet smoothness of her dark skin.
 
And the sensual curve of her full lips.
 
And her long, dark neck.
 
And the way his dick was pressed hard against her.
 
He loved this woman.
 
And his love was beginning to overpower his anger.

“Oh,
Gina
,” he said, now rubbing those arms he had just moments before grasped.
 
And he leaned closer against her, his mouth a mere inch from hers.
 
“I don’t want to fight with you.”

Gina fought back tears, too, as she placed her hands on the sides of his face.
 
And that small gesture, her mere touch, undid him.
 
He slammed his mouth down onto hers, capturing it in a searing kiss.

And Gina returned his passion, unable to think about anything else but this man she had in front of her, this big, strong, virile man she loved so much.
 
And her anger, too, was replaced with her love.
 
And that love was becoming personified in a passion that caused them both to want to fuck so badly they could taste it as they kissed.

And Dutch didn’t waste another second.
 
He reached beneath her dress and slung her panties down so violently that they fell in one swift swoop to her ankles.
 
And he began fingering her as he kissed her, preparing her as he ravaged her lips with such a hungry need that Gina felt that hunger too.
 
She felt as if she was already in the middle of a passionate sexual encounter through the power of his lips alone.

For the longest time they kissed with a heightened sense of urgency, and for the longest time he fingered her, prepping her, fondling her.
 
Marcus Rance was still in the back of their minds, and Robert Rand’s proposal, but in the front of their minds was the here and now, each other, their love, and their need to express that love in the heat of this battle.
  
There was something so disturbing, so off-putting whenever they were in dissonance, that they both felt an unrelenting need to right this ship and right it now.
 
And sex, for them, had always been a powerful course corrector.

And they were in synch from the moment their lips met, even to where Gina’s panties slipped over her shoes and dropped to the floor just as Dutch slung her up and wrapped her legs around his waist.
 
When he entered her, and began to slide in and out of her with those sensual gyrations he had mastered long ago, she wrapped her arms around his neck and groaned with delight.

And once again they started in medium and accelerated from there.
 
Dutch couldn’t tamp down his need for her.
 
He couldn’t moderate his motions to make it last longer with her.
 
Because this wasn’t their regular morning love sessions, where he entered her and slid in and out of her in a slow drag that kept them both satiated for nearly an hour sometimes.
 
This wasn’t that.
 
This, for Dutch, for Gina, was hard, cold sex.

And he sexed her, thrusting into her with a need that kept on intensifying.
 
And she moaned and groaned, her back sliding up and down the wall as he fucked her and she kissed him, as if their earlier fight was now a figment of their imagination.

Back in the Sitting Room, where their lovemaking sounded more like scuffling and bumping against the wall, caused LaLa to quickly realize that something more than a mere argument was going on next door.
 
She and Crader were still standing near the adjacent wall, and the bumps were becoming louder and louder.

“Do you think they’re fighting now?” she asked Crader.
 
“Do you think he’s beating on her?”

Crader tried to keep a straight face.
 
LaLa, for all of her experience, really wasn’t anywhere near as experienced as he and Dutch.
 
Which he was actually glad to know.
 
“Yes, La, he’s beating on her all right.”

Without hesitation she moved to head out of the Sitting Room and into that small office next door.
 

But Crader grabbed her by the hand, gently pulling her back and against him.
 
He wrapped his arms around her waist, encapsulating her.
 
His front was jammed against her back.
 
“Yes, he’s beating on her, La,” he said, as he was beginning to get a hard on just knowing what Dutch was doing to Gina.
 
“He’s banging her.”

LaLa attempted to glance back at him, but he was holding her too tightly.
 
“Banging her?” she said.

“As in banging her brains out, yes.”

LaLa frowned.
 
“But how can that be happening?
 
They were just arguing.
 
How can they go from that monumental fight, to sex?”

Crader closed his eyes, as he pulled her even closer against him, as he was certain she felt his expanding rod now.
 
“Just as I can go from wondering if he was beating on her, to putting a little beating on you.”
 

As soon as he said those words that she knew were filled with double entendre, she felt the thickness of his penis against her backside.
 
She leaned her head back, onto his broad shoulder, as he began to rub that penis against her.
 

“
Oh, Dutch
!” she heard Gina cry, and just like that she wanted to cry Crader’s name.
 

And Crader couldn’t bear it.
 
He unzipped his pants, and pulled out his rod.
 
Then he unbuttoned her pants and pulled them down, just enough to expose her big, tight ass, so that he could have clear passage to enter her from behind.
 
Only he knew he couldn’t just ram into her.
 
He had to get her ready.
 
And he did.
 
Rubbing his penis on the outside of her vagina, and rubbing her clit, prepping her.

Back in the adjacent office, Dutch was well beyond any prep work.
 
He was deep into his fuck.
 
And he rode Gina.
 
He held her in his arms and thrashed into her in a way that gave them both that wonderful whipping effect.
 
Gina felt that effect, felt it to the innermost sanctum of her womanhood, and bucked into him as he bucked into her.
 

They knew they were too loud; they knew they were behaving as if they hadn’t had it in ages, but that was why they loved coming together this way.
 
It always felt as if it was new to them, something completely different every time, and so unbelievably intense that they could hardly bear to feel it.

But they felt it.
 
Every fiber in their being felt it.
 
Dutch’s penis was aching with pleasure as it slid along Gina’s now sweetly slick walls.
 
And when she began to climax, when she began to feel that pinch of elation that wouldn’t allow her to forestall it any longer, his control broke too.
 
And the thrashing became a pounding as he bore into her with a release that took his breath away.
 

“Oh, babe!” he cried as he poured into her.
 
“Oh, babe!”

He kept thrusting into her and thrusting into her until his white liquid oozed out of her, and until the climatic intensity that came so quickly, just as quickly began to dissipate.

Crader, however, was just sliding into LaLa.
 
And that unique feeling of his penis inside of her caused them both to reel in anticipation.
 
Never would they have dreamed that their decision to wait until after their wedding would be shattered on the very night they publicly announced their engagement.
 
But it was a fact.
 
They were shattering that decision with this one, spontaneous act.
 

Crader was fucking her.
 
His penis was roaming in and out of her with a slow wonderment that made LaLa want to cry.
 
She continued to lean back against him.
 
She continued to feel the sensuality of his touch deep inside of her.
 
And the thought that they could be caught, that the president and First Lady could enter the closed door room at any moment and catch them in the act, caused Crader’s gyrations to increase.
 
He was no match for Dutch.
 
He hadn’t broken LaLa in to where he could bang her the way Dutch banged Gina.
 
But he was able to increase his movements enough to pick up the kind of sensual steam LaLa desperately was seeking.

“We’ve got to stop,” she whispered as he fucked her, as her entire body moved in rhythm with his.
 

“We will,” Crader whispered back.
 
“I just want to cum inside of you,” he said.
 
“Let me cum deep inside of you.”

And now it was LaLa’s time to cry, “Oh, Crader,” as the thickness of his rod saturated her.

Back in the adjacent office, Gina and Dutch were immobile.
 
Her back was still against the wall, her legs were still wrapped around his waist, and his penis was still lodged within her.
 
But the silence was deafening.
 
Because just as looking into each other’s eyes produced their sensual encounter, the silence caused them to remember their reality again.

Marcus Rance.
 
And Robert’s political gambit.
 
And Governor Feingold.

Dutch’s head was buried in Gina’s chest, his breathing barely regulated.
 
And Gina’s head was leaned back, against the wall.
 

Dutch slid his deflated penis out of her vagina and pulled out his handkerchief.
 
He began wiping between her legs, cleaning the excess juices that had slid onto her thighs.
 
She watched him, as he cleaned her; as he, once again, took complete control of her.
 
Not that she was concern about his alpha ways.
 
She wasn’t.
 
She knew Dutch looked out for her best interests all the time.
 

But what he viewed as best for her in this instance was in total conflict with her.
 
She continued to watch him wipe between her legs.
 
She continued to feel the power of his strong body holding hers up.
 
And all she could think about was how she always managed to cave.
 
Every time they had any major argument, she usually decided that Dutch knew best, and ended up letting him have his way.
 

But she couldn’t this time.
 
Not this time.
 
Not when the stakes were this high.
 
The last time, when she went to Texas, she was so certain the courts there would hear her brother’s request for a new trial and gladly accommodate him.
 
But when they turned him down so forcefully, as if even the act of asking for a new trial was an affront to them, she knew the legal system wasn’t going to serve her brother.
 
She instinctively knew it.
 
They could petition the court and petition the court until they were blue in the face, but her half-brother, her deceased father’s son, was not going to see that arc of justice bend his way anytime soon.

Then Robert Rand came along with a different way.
 
It was a different way that would be cloaked in the veil of justice, but would actually be just as rigged as she felt those court decisions were.
 
But it was, she knew in her bones, the last chance Marcus had.
 
And that was why she had to fight Dutch’s decision to keep her out of it.
 
She had to fight it.