Chapter Five #2
Aki accepted a drink and now is listening to the…magnate. What the fuck is this? He grumbled all his aversion to the meeting on the way here inside the limo, but now he’s sitting calmly, sipping his cocktail. Did he change his mind?
And why did he order a limo to get here today?
When I heard the words “marriage of convenience” from Kumicho’s mouth three days ago, I felt overtaken by a sense of deep fear.
I’m unsure whether it stemmed from jealousy or helplessness.
I didn’t think these long-held feelings toward Aki would have rusted this much inside me.
But they did, and they are the reason why I couldn’t resist Aki’s advances in that fitting room.
And fuck, didn’t I try. I ordered him to call me sir for fuck’s sake, confident it would have elicited a punch in the face.
Instead, he went along with it, and fuck, he was the perfect mix of submissive and feisty.
So damn hot and slutty. The sensation of his smooth skin under my fingertips is still vivid in my mind.
His erotic body would have taken anything—and man, I wanted to give it to him good and hard.
Instead, I left the fitting room without looking at him, because if I had seen him all disheveled and messed up…
by me, I’d have felt the need to claim him.
Reining in my desire was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. It still is.
Even now, I have the urge to fill every part of him with me. In this dim, luxurious bar, surrounded by wealthy people, with a live jazz band playing, while he might be already negotiating the details for a marriage contract.
The bitter taste of impotence and inadequacy burns inside my throat, and I feel the need for a smoke. What I did was reckless and so unlike me. Nothing good could come out of it. I need to keep my head straight. I’m the only one dwelling on it anyway.
Two days have passed since the fitting room occurrence, and Aki has been treating me like always.
As if what we have shared was nothing of importance.
An itch to scratch. But didn’t I know that already?
Aki becomes fixated with things from time to time, and after he gets them, he loses interest quickly.
Was experimenting with me one of those things?
Does he want to try it with someone else?
The way he looked at me, though, all that desire…
A sudden sharp thwack makes me focus my gaze on Aki again.
He’s standing, one knee on the sofa, his left hand is grabbing the front of Kobayashi’s shirt, while his left arm is cocked back ready to punch again—which he does.
I intercept Kobayashi’s bodyguard as he reaches the table.
I trip him and elbow him in the back of the head.
We are in a spot barely seen by the rest of the people in the restaurant, and even if someone did see us, nobody would dare to approach.
Aki throws a couple of hundreds on the table.
He has a furious expression on his face, which makes me want to pummel the fucker still lying unconscious on the sofa.
“What the fuck happened?” I ask him, as we make our way out.
“I let the shitbag know what I thought about him,” he snaps. So why did he talk to him for so long if he didn’t like him?
“Hot dogs. I want them when we get to my place,” he declares abruptly, as the cold wind hits my face when we step out on the sidewalk.
The limo is waiting for us outside, and we get in quickly.
“We need to talk,” I state, after taking care of the hot dog matter with a text to one of the men.
“About?”
“About what happened in the boutique fitting room.” Has he even given a thought about it, while I keep replaying it over and over in my head?
“Why?” He glances at me for a moment, then proceeds to take off his coat. “I learned that communicating isn’t always the best option.” I open my mouth to reply when I hear his final tone. “Better not to crack those eggs, River.”
What the fuck is he going on about now? And what is this feeling? I’m not angry, but part of my chest feels…cold.
My phone starts ringing. It’s Kumicho. Before I can answer, Aki takes the device from my hand. He leans toward me, bringing his flowery scent with a hint of alcohol, making my dick twitch.
“Why do you keep calling River’s phone and not mine?” he answers.
I can hear Kumicho’s piqued voice clearly. “He’s easier to reach, you brat.”
He pouts.
“What the fuck happened, Akira?”
“You need to be more specific.” His pretense at ignorance enrages the big boss even more.
“With. Your. Suitor.”
“Oh. It looks worse than it is.”
“You didn’t throw your drink in his face, break his wrist, and then punch him in the nose until he passed out?” Her voice is as sharp as a razor.
“If you want to go into details…”
“Bag of dicks! You arrived in New York a week ago and already made two major enemies.”
The second one being Ling Wang.
“He groped my thigh and said I was cute like a fuck doll,” Aki clips.
That fucking scumbag touched him?
“Strange. The person who recommended him spoke very highly. He’ll get punished for this,” she states in an icy voice.
Or maybe that person set this all up to make Aki look bad, or worse, create friction.
“He’s certainly not marriage material. Plus, he’s a man; wasn’t another reason for this marriage to produce the next heir in the Hebikawa lineage?"
All the muscles in my body tense. That’s right. Aki needs to keep his family name alive. Yet another reason to stop thinking about him naked.
“There’s IVF and surrogates nowadays.” She sighs deeply, and then adds in a commanding tone, “You will still be meeting the last three fucking candidates, without killing any of them, and then choose one, or I’ll do it for you.”
Aki hands me back the phone as the call ends abruptly. I expected an angrier reaction from her. She usually tears him a new one.
He clicks his tongue before saying, “Ane-san is too young to be senile, which means she’s fucking with me.”
“Kumicho has more important things to do. And how would she be screwing with you?” I deadpan, trying to keep my tone flat while my stomach is churning.
“She let the other families chose those candidates, giving her final approval. You know both Ishida and Yamaya bosses are just waiting for me to fuck up. I guarantee one of them recommended that perverted shitbag. He was triple my age and wearing a fucking wig made of skunk fur.”
“This is a marriage of convenience; it doesn’t matter if there’s a gap between you and your…husband-to-be.” The words feel like shards of glass on my tongue.
He hums noncommittally. Then I hear the sound of the divider moving. The opaque partition between the driver cabin and the back of the car is sliding up, providing us with some privacy.
“You know.” His tone has changed to sugary sweet. Suspiciously so. “I couldn’t remotely get it up for that fucker while I get a boner only looking at your face.”
What. The. Fuck. He just told me he didn’t want to talk about our encounter in the fitting room.
His finger trails a light path down my thigh to my knee, making my dick pay attention. I grab his hand to stop him when it tries to move back up. I’m forcing myself to remember why I should stop him. My brain seems to have short-circuited.
“Are you trying to deprive me of my purr-leasure?”
I let go of his hand. “I seem to recall I helped you out last time.” My voice sounds gravelly.
He makes one of the sexiest sounds as he starts unbuttoning his pants. “Yes, you did, bunny. Don’t you want to feel that purr-leasure once more?”
My eyes are glued to his hands pushing the fabric down his legs, leaving him in a pink, barely-there, satin thong and shirt. Jesus Christ, he’s so fucking tempting. This is dangerous.
“Stop saying pleasure like that!”
“But that’s the sound I make when I jerk off to you. Purr.”
Oh fuck! He sounds like a damn cat and moves like one, sliding deftly on my lap. His hand delves into my hair, tucking the locks that cover my face behind my ear, and then reaches my nape, running his fingers through it.
“Aki, quit it,” I try again, but my voice is weak, my conviction shaky as he keeps up the goose-bump-inducing massage.
He grinds his cock down on mine, forcing a half-angry, half-aroused grunt out of me.
He knows exactly how to get a reaction out of me.
I don’t like him for being a nice guy. I know exactly who he is.
Every weakness, every fault and vulnerability.
This raunchy side of him, though, is new.
Or maybe I’ve never seen it before for obvious reasons.
The thought leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
I don’t want to think about his past sexual encounters.
“You’re acting like a horn dog.”
“Mad horn dog…what a mouthful. It’s not that I’m horny all the time. It’s that you are always so damn sexy.” Another grind.
I stifle a groan while my hands grab the edge of the seat, making the leather creak under the hard grasp. “Stop it,” I growl.
Unfazed by my reaction, he tsks. “If you want me to stop, make me.” Aki whispers the challenge into my ear, his tongue brushes against the deformed-looking tip.
He’s not repulsed by my blemished skin, but on the contrary he likes to bite, lick, and kiss it, giving life to a rush of warmth inside my chest.
“Give me what I want…sir,” he moans like a fucking bitch in heat.
My cock turns half hard hearing the word “sir.” Who knew I’d be into that shit.
He uttered it with an alluring, teasing voice as only a power bottom would, and that turns me on even more.
My lizard brain is attempting to overrule my little attempts at reason.
Aki is so fucking stubborn; when he makes up his mind, he doesn’t budge.
His hand slides under my coat, reaching my pocket and grabbing my knife. Is he going to slice my clothes again? I don’t make a move. Feeling completely under his spell, not a peep leaves my lips.