Chapter 16 Samantha
SAMANTHA
I have trouble sleeping, so I lie in bed staring up at the moonlight seeping through the thick old curtains. I know it has something to do with him, or us.
But it feels like it’s about change, and I have not worked it out, yet.
Finally, I get to sleep, and I sleep well, really well. I think it’s because I am feeling settled. And he is now making me feel comfortable and not so hated.
Or commanded.
After making breakfast, as per his message from this morning, I deliver it to him upstairs. I then make my own breakfast and quickly tidy the kitchen.
William then finds me, explaining Harry is having guests for a day of business meetings.
I tell him Harry mentioned it yesterday on the way home and I am already preparing a basic but healthy lunch for them.
Three people are coming to the estate, and I try not to wonder if he will have another woman here. That I don’t like considering.
I also suspect if I poison a dozen women or so over several weeks, I will end up in some state prison. Or I’ll get a dose wrong, and one of the skanks will end up horizontal. Going to prison because you want a hot guy. OMG, Samantha!
In saying that, the things he did to me and the way he commanded me to come…
Almost worth it.
I laugh like a mad woman and start to talk to myself. “In my defense, Your Honor, he did roger me better than every man I’ve slept with times a hundred. It was worth it!”
I try not to think about the wicked things he did to me or that orgasm. That orgasm that was longer than time itself.
It kind of broke me, and maybe that’s it. Maybe I’m possessed, and that super orgasm was some kind of possession ritual.
My heart starts to pump hard, and my body starts to betray me again. My clit is now throbbing as I stand in the kitchen.
I lean against the kitchen island edge, thinking about that night. I press against the edge to put pressure on myself.
It feels good, and I close my eyes and inhale. I think of riding him, and I think of his thumb on my clit.
“Hey!”
I spring back and find Grumpy walking in.
“Ahhh hey, you.” Grumpy looks at me strangely. “I mean hey, Harry.”
He is suddenly serious again, but he is eyeing me as I double-blink. “Look, you do remember the guys are arriving, right?”
“Guys only, good.”
“What?”
“I mean yep, yes.”
Harry is wearing an extra dark blue, or even black suit today, and he looks serious. There is only one problem.
I walk around, and on my tip toes, I adjust his tie. “Stand still.”
He avoids my eyes, then I step back and pat his chest. “Better.”
“Thanks,” he says, looking confused. “Anyway, around one o’clock, for a short meal, if you can, and in the grand hall.”
“Right,” I say, nodding. “Knock ’em dead.”
“Thanks,” he says before pausing at the door. “Oh, and no need to poison anyone today.”
“Good to know,” I say. “I’ll make note of that. Not even a little poison.”
We share a smile, and then he leaves.
I spin and lean against the large old kitchen island. The same one that he pulls my pants down on, and the same one I just leaned against to add pressure to my clit. “Arggghhhhh.”
I am leaning back and exhaling when Harry peers back in. “You alright?”
“Yes, sorry, yep, and it was not an orgasm. Just so you know.”
“Because that would what? Be weird?”
“Maybe, I mean, yep, especially now.”
“Is that because orgasm hour is later?” Harry asks, checking his old watch and messing with me.
“I dunno, is it?”
Harry shakes his head, tosses a tea towel at my head, and leaves. I close my eyes and lean back against the wooden island. “OMG,” I mumble. “Keep it together!”
An hour later, a private jet banks low around the chateau, and the old place shakes.
Harry comes trotting down the steps, shaking his head. “Sons of bitches. I hate it when they do that.”
“Are we under attack?”
“Not yet,” Harry says, walking outside. “And no, that’s actually later.”
“What?”
Ten minutes later, I hear three deep voices. I peer through the gap in the kitchen door, and I make out three men in suits following Harry.
They are all tall, dark, and handsome. Then I catch Harry’s eyes on me. He does not look happy that I am spying on strange men.
The skimpy summer dress I’m wearing swirls up as I return to my duties. I then realize I should dress up.
The only thing is, I still don’t have anything nice.
I am also not going to wear the nasty uniform, like in an old-fashioned movie. No way.
I run upstairs and put on his business shirt to make it less weird. I then try on my denim skirt, and I tuck it in.
I spin in front of the mirror, then I do my hair properly, and put on lipstick.
After racing downstairs, I perfect the simple meal. I then kill time in the kitchen, imagining him inside me.
Finally, it is one o’clock, and the old clock, as always, chimes on the hour.
I carry the food on silver trays to the designated area and place the cold cuts, dishes, and refreshments around. I then head out just as they are coming in.
Avoiding the visitor’s eyes, I look up only when I know it’s Harry. Our eyes meet, and I smile.
He nods as I pause near the kitchen door.
The men talk in the distance, and I feel their gazes on me at times. I am waiting far from them to see if they need anything more.
Looking ultra-serious, Harry walks over to me.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my eyes big.
I can see his jaw tense up, and he nods, his eyes lasered. “That will be all.” As he walks back, I hear him take command of the discussion, as is his way. “So, regarding the situation and decision. Before we leave today, I want a deal, and I want it in writing.”
There is murmuring, and then I hear, “Alright.”
“Sure.”
“Agreed.”