“You…” I breathed out, a soft chuckle escaping my lips as I knelt before him, my hands resting lightly on his thighs. The silk of his black robe had already fallen open, revealing the smooth expanse of his skin and the dark fabric of his underwear beneath. Levi remained silent, his gaze fixed on me for a fleeting moment before he reached for his phone with a decisive movement, his thumb dialing a number. Wow. The cliché, was reaching new heights of delicious predictability.

A beat later, his attention snapped back to the call, his voice regaining its usual authoritative edge. “Cease your lamentations, Minister. The entirety of the newly appointed cabinet requires decisive leadership.” I nuzzled my nose against the warm fabric at his crotch, my gaze lifting to meet his, a silent question in my eyes. He maintained eye contact, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “No,” he continued into the phone, “you are to allocate the necessary funds for the presidential campaign. Yes, Minister, it should be patently obvious that a portion of the national tax revenue will be utilized to facilitate the democratic process. Ugh…” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

A low growl rumbled in Levi’s chest as I nipped at the elastic of his underwear, liberating his already impressive erection. He didn't acknowledge it. “Gods…” he muttered, a hint of breathlessness entering his voice, “are there truly sixteen of you requiring individual hand-holding on this fundamental principle? Sixteen separate lamentations regarding a perfectly reasonable directive? Obviously, Minister, your adherence to the acting president’s mandates is not a matter for debate… Allocate the necessary funds, forthwith.” My hands found his hips, grounding him as I flicked my tongue against the sensitive tip of his cock. “No,” Levi snapped into the phone, his voice losing a fraction of its polish. I licked the underside of his shaft, feeling him twitch. “Ugh… Minister, a moment of blessed silence, if you possess the capacity for it.” He clenched his jaw. “Less… crying, more signing? Is that a concept that penetrates your thick skull? Hm?” He tilted his head back, a mixture of frustration and something else entirely in his eyes as I began to circle the tip with my tongue.

Sixteen whiny bureaucrats, each a tiny cog jamming the gears of progress. Levi, however, was navigating their complaints with the detached authority of a deity managing unruly supplicants. One hand gripped his phone, the other… well, was currently experiencing a more intimate form of executive control. As Levi listened to the minister’s latest lamentations, a tempo took over my ministrations. I traced the length of him from base to tip, savoring the hitch in his breath, the clench of his jaw. With Levi, I knew the slow burn was always the most potent.

I wrapped my lips around the very tip, not yet taking him fully, but maintaining a glacial dance of my tongue.

Levi’s voice sharpened, a flicker of genuine disbelief momentarily eclipsing his earlier frustration. “Wait… What in the blazes do you mean by that, Minister?” Levi’s voice hitched, a tremor running through his body. His rapid blinking betrayed his divided attention. “No, no, absolutely do not proceed with that course of action. We are actively in the process of transitioning to a fully digitized currency; to do that would be… utterly counterproductive. Of course, utilize digital fund transfers.”

A soft groan escaped Levi’s lips as I deepened my ministrations, the gentle suction increasing with each breath, taking more and more of his length into my mouth. His size, as always, presented a delightful challenge, stretching my palate in a way that was a slight, pleasurable discomfort for me. But the tension radiating from him, the barely suppressed irritation from dealing with his incompetent minister, fueled my actions.

“Are we clear on this singular directive, Minister? Have you finally grasped the full weight of your one, solitary responsibility?” Levi’s voice was tight, a low growl rumbling beneath the surface as I continued my ministrations, the rhythm slow and deliberate. He punctuated his words with sharp inhales. “Yes. Digitized funds. Allocated directly to the accounts of the upcoming political parties. Nothing else. Just this one, remarkably simple task.” He tilted his head back, his eyes squeezed shut for a fleeting moment, as he gripped the edge of his desk.

“Excellent,” Levi clipped out, his voice still tight but with a hint of returning control. He took a shuddering breath. “Now, repeat your assigned task to me, Minister. Verbally confirm your understanding of this exceedingly straightforward directive.”

The absurdity of the situation, nearly sent a muffled laugh bubbling up from my throat, the sensation vibrating against then length currently filling my mouth.

“Good enough. Cease your incessant whining,” Levi clipped, finally disconnecting the call. He immediately shifted his attention, his free hand moving from the edge of his desk to the back of my head, his fingers threading through my hair. “Hm?” he murmured, a playful smirk returning to his lips. “And here I thought you were merely offering a… silent form of support, Pulla. Were you perhaps deriving some amusement from listening to your husband’s rather… colorful interactions with the less intellectually gifted members of the cabinet?”

I blinked my eyes twice, affirming.

“Hm, dearest,” Levi murmured, his fingers tightening slightly in my hair, a clear indication of his enjoyment. “Please, do continue then.” He then, grabbed his phone again, his thumb already dialing another number. I did not falter, maintaining the steady tempo.

“Yes, Minister, the presidential election,” Levi clipped out, a hint of steel returning to his voice, though it was still underscored by a low hum of arousal. “Cease your histrionics for a moment. Yes, the nation will indeed have a president. No,” he reiterated firmly, his fingers stroking the back of my head, “raising taxes while simultaneously urging the populace to stimulate the economy is an exercise in utter futility. We will not allow the nascent presidential election to be tainted by such blatant fiscal illogic.” He took a sharp inhale as I deepened my caress.

Levi held the phone slightly away from his ear, a grimace flickering across his features. Well, whatever bureaucratic meltdown was currently occurring on the other end of that line was decidedly secondary to my current task. Focus, Raphael, focus.

“Gods above, Minister, just… cease your caterwauling for a blessed moment. Go splash your face with some frigid water, perhaps ingest a calming herbal infusion. I cannot even begin to… Hm… Yes, yes, that will suffice.” Levi’s voice was strained, a vein throbbing visibly in his temple as he finally slammed the phone down.

I pulled my head back, the release creating a wet pop. “Caterwauling?” I echoed, a slight smirk playing on my lips.

Levi rolled his eyes heavenward, a sigh escaping his lips. “Indeed. And regrettably,” he glanced pointedly at his discarded phone, “I still have the distinct displeasure of engaging with at least five more equally… vociferous individuals. Gods give me strength…”

“Before you subject yourself to further auditory assaults, Levi… perhaps a brief recalibration of focus? Just a moment,” I said before I leaned down and licked the tip of his cock.

“But of course,” he purred, his eyes darkening with renewed interest. “My priorities, as always, remain aligned.” He dropped his hand from the phone, his attention now fully, and quite deliciously, on me.

I deepened my caress, taking the engorged head fully into my mouth. My hands slid upwards, tracing the taut muscles of his abdomen, feeling the tremor that ran through him. I used my tongue to explore the sensitive frenulum, eliciting a low groan that vibrated against my lips. I savored the taste of him, a flavor that was intimately familiar and endlessly intoxicating. With each suckle, I felt him lean back slightly.

The rhythmic suction increased, the base now pressing against my lips. I tilted my head back slightly, taking more of him, the movement causing a deeper groan to rumble in his chest. My tongue continued its exploration, flicking and swirling around the sensitive head, paying particular attention to the underside where the veins throbbed visibly. My hands continued their upward journey, reaching his chest, where I could feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath my palms. I kneaded the firm muscles, my thumbs brushing against his nipples, eliciting another, more urgent groan.

Levi pushed back from his desk, rising to his full height, a silent command that I readily obeyed. His hand remained on the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair, not with force, but as an anchor. He began to thrust, his length sliding deeper into my mouth with each measured movement. Despite his restraint, the fullness of him was undeniable, a pressure that made each breath a conscious act.

My hands tightened on his hips, my thumbs digging slightly into the curve of his pelvis as I met each of his slow thrusts with a deliberate slide of my own.

“Raphael,” Levi murmured, his voice thick with approaching climax, each word punctuated by a deeper, more insistent thrust, “this next… might be a touch intense. Are you prepared, dearest?”

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A fond smile touched my lips against his skin. Instead of clinging to his frame, I gripped the edge of his desk.

Levi’s both hands framed my face, effectively locking me in place. And then he began to thrust in earnest. But his eyes… those dark, unwavering eyes held mine captive.

A guttural groan tore from Levi's throat, his thrusts becoming shorter, more rapid. I could feel the frantic pulse of his erection against the back of my throat. My hands tightened their grip on the edge of his desk, as I braced against the overwhelming pressure. A low whimper escaped my lips, a mixture of pleasure and the stretching discomfort. His thrusts became shallower again, a series of rapid, shuddering movements, and then, with a strangled cry, he went still, his body rigid against mine as he emptied himself deep inside me.

Levi released his hold on my head, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. My own breath hitched, my throat still tight and full. The burning question, as always, lingered: To swallow, or not to swallow?

Levi’s thumb traced a circle on my cheek, his gaze softening. “You did really well, Pulla,” he murmured, his voice still rough around the edges. Ah, that specific chord he knew resonated deep within me, a kink that never failed to elicit a response. Without hesitation, I swallowed.

Levi slowly withdrew, leaving a lingering warmth and a slight ache that was not entirely unpleasant. I took a few deep, steadying breaths, the air catching slightly in my throat as my body adjusted. Then, with a sigh that spoke of both satisfaction and lingering exertion, Levi settled back into his chair. He picked up the fork from the plate of my half-disastrous brownies, speared a generous chunk and offered it to me.

“Oh, Levi…” I murmured, a small smile touching my lips as I leaned forward and accepted the offered bite. “Is this your aftercare? Brownies of questionable origin?”

“Indeed,” he replied, his gaze steady as he took a forkful himself, chewing thoughtfully.

My stomach dropped. Something was definitely off. The initial sweetness gave way to a wave of intense bitterness, coating my tongue with an acrid taste. The gooey center, the part I’d hoped was salvageable, was the worst offender. Had I… had I completely botched this? Too much dark chocolate? Or had I grabbed the wrong ingredient entirely?

“Hm…” Levi mused, his expression carefully neutral as he swallowed the bite. “Dearest, it appears your… passion for intense flavor may have manifested somewhat aggressively in the realm of dark chocolate. However,” a small smile touched his lips, “I still appreciate the gesture immensely. The fact that you took time out of your day, and braved the treacherous landscape of the kitchen, to create this for me… that means more than any perfectly executed confection.”

Fuck. Never. Again.

“Levi…” I groaned. “The hell is this… I am truly sorry. About the… questionable brownies, and about being a bit of a bitch this morning.”

Before I could wallow further in my self-reproach, Levi reached out, his strong hands gripping my waist. He lifted me and settled me onto his lap, his arms wrapping around me. “Dearest,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against my ear, “the brownies are… an experience. Entirely alright. You felt the need to apologize, and understanding that purely emotional appeals often fall short with me, you presented a tangible peace offering. The intent, Raphael, is more than sufficient. It is enough.”

Experience… it’s one way to describe something that tastes like unsweetened sin. But he understands.

I nestled closer against his shoulder. “If you wanted to… you could still elaborate on this morning’s… less than harmonious start to the day,” I offered softly.

Levi sighed. “Well, consider the situation from my perspective, dearest. Why would I subject myself to these complex political machinations if my ultimate aim was absolute control? While I understand your initial suspicion – given my... tendencies – logically, I had hoped it would be clear to you that I have no desire for a mere puppet president. Such an arrangement would only breed incompetence, requiring me to micromanage every decision. No. My genuine intention is to extricate myself from direct rule. My initial plan, as you know, was to dismantle the archaic laws that have stifled this nation for far too long and to establish a functional democracy. The former is accomplished. The latter, however, is still in its delicate infancy, requiring careful nurturing.”

“I know…” I murmured, leaning further into his embrace. “I understand.”

Levi’s hand shifted, his thumb tracing a slow circle on my buttock. “And I genuinely desire a thriving, self-sustaining democracy, one that doesn’t require my constant intervention,” he emphasized, his voice firm yet tinged with a hint of weariness. “But the unfortunate reality, is that to achieve that eventual independence, it requires my active, and sometimes… forceful, involvement now. The foundation needs to be solid before the structure can stand on its own.”

“I do believe you, Levi,” I affirmed softly, leaning my head against his. “To be honest, a significant part of my initial skepticism stemmed from… well, your way of interpreting things. You took the simple word ‘organic’ – a throwaway comment, really – and somehow transmuted it into this colossal, intricate plan involving the livelihoods of millions. My mouth was literally agape for a good while, trying to piece it all together.”

His middle finger, began to trace circles over my entrance. “Hm…” he purred, a hint of amusement lacing his voice. “So, you are admitting to a fleeting moment of apprehension, a whisper of fear that I might, in my own inimitable way, simply seize

control? Please, my dearest. If that were my true desire, I assure you, this protracted bureaucratic nightmare would be entirely unnecessary. A well-placed decree, an announcement… and the reins would be mine. This… this is the arduous path of genuine change, not the swift shortcut of autocracy.”

The circling finger… a deliberate distraction, I’m sure. There’s always that little voice in the back of my head, the one that remembers the old Levi.

“So, the ultimate endgame in this elaborate performance… is truly an Ascaria with no Levi Blake holding the reins of power?” I asked, a genuine curiosity coloring my tone.

“My motivations are perhaps less… power-hungry than you might imagine. I find satisfaction in the large-scale projects, the intellectual challenge of solving complex, nation-sized puzzles. I already oversee the entirety of Ascaria’s vast and multifaceted operations; what further dominion could possibly tempt me? Titles, Raphael, have never held any true allure for me. My current ambition is singular: to see this plan reach its fruition, to witness this nation achieve a stable, self-sustaining economy, and to finally have a legitimate, democratically elected president. An actual president, making actual decisions, without my shadow looming over their every move.”

“I believe you, Levi.”

And I did. The logic, the weariness, the very absurdity of his chosen path… it all resonated with a truth I couldn’t deny. Just as a shared smile touched our lips, the buzz of his phone shattered the peace. With a sigh that telegraphed his resignation, Levi snatched the device, his middle finger resuming its circles. “Absolutely not, Minister. No. A thousand times no. I will not be running for the presidency. Pray to whatever deities you hold dear that I maintain this resolve.”

Oops. President Levi Blake is an open threat to every single cabinet staff.

“Ugh… Just silence yourself, Minister. Cease this pathetic entreaty, this incessant groveling, whatever it is you’re attempting.” Levi’s voice was laced with utter exasperation. “The preliminary survey results will be available in five days. Perhaps then, you can direct your supplications to the individuals who actually hold sway.”

With a decisive tap, Levi silenced his phone. He ran a hand through his hair, a weary smile touching his lips. “Gods above, they truly haven’t a clue about who they favor as their leader, do they, Raphael?”

“Absolutely not,” I chuckled, leaning into his side. “Tyrant wouldn’t even begin to cover it, Levi. You’d be less a president and more… a benevolent dictator. Or perhaps just a plain old dictator, minus the benevolence.”

“Precisely,” Levi agreed, a playful glint in his eyes as his hand tightened briefly on my buttock. “Benevolence is a virtue I reserve for… more deserving recipients. The cabinet, often falls short of that particular benchmark.”

“Wait a moment,” I interjected. “What about these surveys? What if, despite your… lack of enthusiasm, the people actually choose you?”

Levi chuckled. “I suspect your mental image of these surveys involves a rather exhaustive, nationwide undertaking. Rest assured, it’s a far more… efficient process. One doesn’t require the input of every single citizen to glean accurate data. A controlled sample, curated by professional polling firms, is more than sufficient. They will gather a diverse cross-section of the population – representing a spectrum of opinions, ages, educational backgrounds, religious affiliations, and genders – ensuring the results closely mirror the sentiments of the nation as a whole. Furthermore,” he added with a decisive nod, “I have already explicitly instructed them to exclude my name from the list of potential candidates.”

“Hm…” I shifted on his lap, a playful groan escaping my lips. “While this political discourse has been… enlightening, Levi, I fear my legs are about to stage a rather dramatic rebellion. Either transport me to the bed, or I’m making a break for the living room. Honestly, this study, despite its size, is starting to feel rather… constricting. And you know I don't even do claustrophobic.”

Levi sighed theatrically, as he punctuated his words with a poke. “As much as I find this particular form of… intellectual engagement utterly captivating,” he murmured, his voice a low caress, “the demands of state currently beckon with rather insistent urgency, dearest. But rest assured,” his gaze darkened slightly, “my attention will be entirely yours come nightfall.”

A soft chuckle escaped my lips as I finally conceded defeat to gravity. With a push against Levi's chest, I slid off his lap, my movements a little stiff. Navigating the narrow passage carved through the stacks of boxes, I made my way towards the master bedroom. The moment my body sank into the plush mattress, a wave of profound drowsiness washed over me.