An AMAZING 5 of 5 stars
I recommend this to FANS of:
Those who want to know what an Alpha Submissive Male looks like
Readers of Joey Hill
THE WHITE HOUSE GETS A SPANKING rocked my world.
I have read about shy submissive's, snarky submissive's, submissive's that deny they are really dominates, but this Femme Dom is much in line with the male submissive's of Joey Hill that steals our hearts and puts the driver's seat directly with the female dominant and her strong submissive.
Stella is not uber alpha, but she's strong! I loved walking a mile in Stella's high heeled, thigh-high leather boots. She wowed us as a responsible, controlled, real dominant. The kind whose only interested in unleashing the inner power of her submissive.
Who doesn't love a "I know you better than yourself" dominant? BUT, there was human vulnerability in Stella and Laird's complete, real, and moving story.
Stella was the kind of Alpha that has real power. Laird was a heart melting submissive. The story was unique and I mean that it was fresh. I couldn't help but love this story inside and out. I bow down to Elizabeth SaFleur and begged her to write more.
If that doesn't tell you how much I loved this story and recommend it, then I'm not sure I can convince you no matter what I say.
The last place Washington D.C. investigative journalist Stella Martin wanted to cover was the White House. But when a friend’s request to watch over her latest submissive plaything when she’s out of town turns out to be the White House Communications Director, Stella's unwelcomed and unbearable assignment becomes quite interesting.
Laird Harkness hadn’t expected his perfect Domme would show up in his office—the most famous house in the world and a place where his secret desires could end his career. Stella calms his fears, but can she sate his craving to submit, serve and belong to someone?
FAN MADE BOOK TRAILER
Please make note that this is a FAN MADE trailer and in no way should be associated with the ELIZABETH SAFLEUR brand.
This is the first of three (3) in THE JUSTICE SERIES and that may not be enough for me! The books are diamonds and I feel honored to have read this book!
While Elizabeth says it's either the greatest move of my writing career or the worst I don't have a problem with the Washington theme. I, for one, am grateful for the FREEDOM OF SPEECH as Elizabeth SaFleur so aptly puts to good use!
Warning: sexual content
“Tell me Samson—I should call you that?”
“You can call me anything you want.”
“Samson then. What are you looking for?”
He blinked up at her. “Dominance.” He phrased it like a question as if she was either an idiot to ask such a thing or he wasn’t sure what that meant. She chose the latter.
“And what does this dominance look like? When you are in complete surrender in your mind, the thoughts you have late at night when you’re alone in bed playing with yourself . . .” she stilled his fingers once more. “Yes, Samson, when you are touching yourself, what is she doing?”
She didn’t need to ask him if he’d thought of her as he jacked off. She knew he did. He wouldn’t have come looking for her otherwise. And, his little gifts throughout the week were finally the right messages she’d sought.
“I haven’t. Touched myself.”
She cocked her head. “You’re telling the truth?”
“I always tell the truth.” His gaze shot to her.
“You forget I’ve been to your briefings.”
“I have never lied to the press.”
“Oh, the Assistant Press Secretary is ill? Or in bed with a certain someone?”
His nostrils flared. “Okay, I touched myself. But I didn’t—”
“You didn’t relieve yourself? Why not? Did Hannah forbid it until she got back?” If she had, that would have been another useful bit of information Hannah should have shared.
His expression sank a little. “No, she didn’t forbid it.”
“But you wished to prove something to her anyway.”
“No.” He lifted his gaze to her, his eyes beseeching yet clear. “To you.”
Mixed emotion cascaded down her spine: pride, bewilderment, happiness and a little distrust. He still could be playing her. So many did in this town. But Hannah wouldn’t be with a player, despite the fact his job was in the biggest playpen. And, he had shown candor tonight. She’d give him the benefit of the doubt, but she wanted to know more.
He blinked. “You’re different.”
He tossed her a small smile. “I didn’t take you for someone who required flattery.”
“Don’t you dare.” She smiled back at him. “Tell me what you’re looking for. Details, Samson.”
His head swiveled immediately upon her words to see who might be around. Three men were walking by them. He angled himself so he leaned into her more.
“You’re among friends, Samson.”
“I want someone to belong to.”
Now they were getting somewhere.
“Belong,” she repeated, not because she didn’t understand, but because she did. The transience of their worlds—media, politics, Washington itself—wasn’t for someone who required constant reassurance. Comfort wasn’t on the menu. But if one’s nature was in direct contrast with who one had to be on the outside, well, having a place to be yourself could be very comforting indeed. Who didn’t long to be themselves, devoid of pretense, pseudonyms, false identities and the niceties everyone must adopt in D.C.?
“What do you want?” he asked.
“I’ll tell you. But, first, tell me more about this belonging.”
His eyes didn’t get that dreamy cast like so many other submissives when they paint their ideal fairytale. His eyes grew fierce.
“You would tell me what to do, of course. We are equals but you understand my need to serve you. You’d love . . . having me. It would be a shared experience.”
His unwavering clarity made her sit back against the couch cushions.
“I know watching is not the same as doing,” he said. “But what I’ve seen, well, I can tell the difference between people who are playing and people who are together and playing.”
The man used words for a living, so she shouldn’t be so surprised at his articulation. But the fact he expressed himself exactly as she would have? His answer rendered her nearly speechless.
It didn’t matter if Hannah had told her to watch over him. She wouldn’t turn her back on this man for anything. He wasn’t just rare. He was perhaps once in a lifetime.
You don't have to take my word for it...