Chapter 27 Harrison
HARRISON
After two more days of seeing sights, walking, talking, and sitting while not discussing the deal or any darned detail as is the Japanese way, I head for our car outside another temple.
Our Japanese executive deal broker pulls me aside, and in an awkward way, he tells me they will likely not sell.
“What do you mean?” I ask, astounded.
I have been ultra respectful. I’ve bowed a dozen times a day. I’ve shaken hands. I’ve laughed at the right time. I’ve been beyond patient. I’ve eaten all kinds of weird food, and I’ve been humble.
As humble as fuck.
“Hard to say, Harry-san,” the fixer says as we look across at Mount Fuji.
“I suspect they think you and Samantha-san not have true love. That your way of, let me say, Playboy still not over. You still not settle down, or say, you are still not a stable rock. A stable boulder in the moving river of life.”
Pacing, I say nothing. What the hell is there to say?
I nod and thank him gracefully.
As Samantha and I drive back to the hotel alone, I know I must tell her. Tell her I have failed.
As we walk into our large hotel suite, I pull off my jacket and toss it. “They know!”
“Know what?”
I pour a huge whisky as Samantha walks over. “Us,” I say, drinking, then handing a less crazy-sized whisky to Sam.
She takes hers and walks onto the balcony.
“Well, I’m not that surprised.”
“What?” I yell. I follow her onto the large balcony, and the view tonight is spectacular. In the mist, Tokyo is like some futuristic neon landscape.
“You,” she says, turning to me. “You don’t really give off the vibe of being in a relationship or the 'I’m in love' vibe.”
“The hell I don’t!” I say, angry and pacing. Samantha sighs, and then rolls her neck. “You were supposed to coach me!” I say angrily and as if she is to blame.
“Hey, I did, pal!”
She takes a moment to cool things down and turns to me. “Harry, I touched you. I held your hand. I smiled at you half of each and every day. You did almost nothing in return.”
I think back, and I don’t like it. The thing is, she is not entirely wrong. I had tried, but maybe, just maybe, not enough. “Well, perhaps you can coach me fully one day,” I say, starting to give up.
I start to get used to the idea of kissing billions of dollars goodbye. I then finish my whisky and walk inside, defeated.
With the big glass doors open, I stand at the bar and pour another. Sam walks in and both her and the view are exceptionally good. Even if my world is collapsing, she looks spectacular.
Sam walks around me, and she seems to glide while observing me. “What?” I ask.
“You.”
“What, me?”
“You are an angry man.”
“What’s your point?”
“Well, perhaps two-fold. Firstly, the Harry I met for the first time was not angry. He had grace, and he flowed through the universe. Sure, he was bossy, confident, and commanding, but he was not an angry, desperate man. Secondly, for whatever reason you avoid sex, it’s messing you up.”
Sighing, I pull off my tie. I have no other option. “Okay then, let’s fuck. Then I’ll calm down.”
“No way,” Sam says, observing me from feet away. She crosses her arms and looks disgusted. “Look at you.”
I pace, and I don’t like it. “You’re like a caged tiger.” She is not wrong, and I hate myself. Hate myself for being cornered and failing.
“Go blow off some steam. And go sort yourself out, for God’s sake. Or get a hooker. There’s no way I’ll let you near me now. Especially with that attitude and energy!”
I yell in frustration.
As I drop into the lone stylish black leather chair that looks over Tokyo, I put my face in my hands. I exhale, long and slow. Deep down, I know what she means. I am fried.
“This deal that you’ve planned for a heck of a long time, with no sex.”
“Besides you!” I say in my weak defense.
“Besides US has turned you into a…”
“Crazy person?”
“Psychopath!” she says, walking in front of me. “A fucking psychopath.”
I stand and pace. “I don’t screw hookers,” I say, and it’s the truth.
I know I’m sexually frustrated, like the world-class boxers pre-fight. Like them, the pressure builds, and like them, it becomes toxic, and then ruthlessly aggressive. The only thing is, I’ve left it longer. Longer than is wise. I am now a ticking bomb.
I don’t need sex. I need a bullet.
“Get in the shower and sort yourself out.”
“It’s not the same,” I growl at my hot coach.
“And I thought you were a real man.” We exchange a look, and that was a low blow. “Get in the fucking shower and sort yourself out, and maybe…”
“What?”
“Maybe I’ll lean in the door and coach you.”
I gulp, and it’s getting kind of hot. “What? Talk dirty?”
She does not say anything. I yank off my clothes angrily, and I am hard. I toss my suit on the tall lampshade where it hangs.
We share a look as I walk past. I am hard, and I am angry. The look we share is charged. It is also edgy and loaded.
I walk into the marble bathroom, wanting blood. I turn the shower on and pause. I walk straight back into the suite, naked, and I walk past Sam.
We exchange a glance, and I grab the expensive whisky bottle. As I walk back to the shower, I catch Samantha checking out my butt and my eight-pack.
I leave the large glass shower door open and the bathroom door.
Steam starts to cloud the air, and it feels like the fog in my mind. Inside, I lean against the cold marble and slump to the ground.
With the whisky bottle in one hand, I think of her tight, wet pussy and that tight butt. I take my cock in my hand, and I pump. It feels amazing, and I won’t last long. I am charged.
After a long and amazing minute, I feel eyes on me. Like the eyes of a large predator or a cat.
Sam walks through the steam, watching me from across the marble bathroom. Holding a champagne bottle in her hand, she is wearing only black lingerie and high heels.
That is a lie. She is wearing a look. A filthy look. She watches me as I watch her.
It’s beyond hot.
She walks closer as I fist my cock. She then stands behind the glass. After a minute, she turns and rubs her butt against the wet glass. I growl like a savage, and I want her bad.
I am also close. Too close.
Sam reaches around and she passes me the champagne. Putting the whisky on the marble floor, I knock back champagne.
As I fist my raging hard cock, I pass the champagne back to her. As I do, I try to grab her hand. She laughs and whips her hand back, fast.
“Come for me,” she demands.
“The hell I will,” I say, angry and so darned close.
“You need to come for me,” she commands.
I hate that she is flipping things on me, and she knows. Knows that is my fucking line. My control trigger.
She drinks more champagne and unclips the front of her bra. It drops, and she pours the rest of the cold, sparkling champagne over her breasts and nipples. I growl.
Finally, I’m there, and I groan. I close my eyes, mere seconds away.
Suddenly, I feel long hair across my thighs. Then, my pumping, angry fist is swatted aside. I open my eyes in alarm as Sam’s mouth plunges down on my cock.
It is fast, and she is gifted.
As she sucks and fists my cock, I let go and call her name loudly, like a madman.
I erupt, and my powerful thighs tighten. My feet curl, and I fist marble and buck. I pump my hot load into the back of her throat.
Shooting everything I have into her, Sam sucks, and I buck again and again into her. “Oh Sam, oh God.”
It’s almost too much, and I have to remember to inhale.
Finally, I lie back, dropping completely to the tiles.
The water comes down hard and fast, and I open my eyes and look up. The woman stands above me in high heels and panties. Her lips are parted, and her eyes hungry.
She wipes her lips with the back of her hand and winks. I am alive again, but I now have another problem.
Sam places a black high heel down on my chest, pushing it down hard.
I wince, naked below her, and I gulp, confused. Crazy hot bitch, and I thought I was the crazy one.
“That’s the last time you touch yourself. Do you understand me!?”
“What?”
“Say it!”
“Okay,” I say, confused.
I am turned on, amazed, and I am alive again.
Before I can do much more, I realize I’m getting hard again. Above me in the fine mist, Sam kicks off her panties. I get harder, I am so turned on.
She then crouches above me in her heels, and I need to be inside her.
As she stays crouching, she rubs her slick folds against my shaft. I gasp and lay back.
I fist the marble tiles as water cascades down on us. Moving my large hands around, I hold her butt as it slides along my shaft.
Within a minute, I am fully hard again. I can also feel her clit rubbing against the tip of my crown.
I grab her head and bring it to mine. We kiss hard, bruising our hungry lips.
“God, I’ve missed you,” I say.
“Fuck me,” Sam demands. “Shut. Up. And. Fuck. Me.”
I now remember my way, and I pull her down onto my hot, hard, hungry cock. It is electric, and she moans. I feel her hot, wet body tense up as her pussy is stretched wide.
I remember her. My cock remembers her. And her pussy now remembers how big I am.
Sam drives down on me, and I let her start to ride me. I thumb her clit with one hand and hold the back of her head with the other. As she rides me and pumps me with her pussy, I look up at her.
Her mouth is open, and she pulls in oxygen.
I know it is hell on her thighs, but I know she has it. As she controls the speed, she controls the angle. She is getting close, and she slams down again and again, riding my slick cock.
Finally, I sense her thighs give out, and I have a plan. I grit my teeth, and still inside her, I stand. With herculean effort, I lift her up. “Yes,” she gasps. “Oh, yes.”
I carry her through the suite on my large, hungry cock. Her arms are now around my neck, and she grinds down on me.
I groan as my eyes sweep the area. The bed. And where she belongs.
I lay us down, and we go straight into it. Lips, hands, pumping, moaning, and groaning.
It feels like we are back in the hotel in the storm, and we have not lost a beat. I next do what I’ve wanted to do since the day she arrived at the chateau. To claim her, to mark her, and make her mine.
Again.
As I rock into her, it feels good. So good, it worries me. Denying myself for so, so long had been hell. Now, it is time… for heaven.
That means worshipping her. And doing one other thing. Making her come.