Chapter 43
HARRISON
We spend the night in Samantha’s small apartment, and then the sun rises. We had been up half the night, talking, kissing, promising, and doing wicked things to and for each other.
As we lie in bed, we talk, we hold each other, and we have a lot of catching up to do.
I caress her more, but the apartment is not entirely suitable for claiming her, marking her, and making her mine. Again.
I climb out of bed and make her the best breakfast in bed possible. As we eat, we lie on the bed and plan.
I agree to help Sam with her important project and cause. She is clearly passionate about it, like me saving the lions, tigers, and other cats in the wild.
I tell her I will be her assistant-slash-whatever.
In return, she agrees we will move to a five-star hotel, where we will have privacy, comfort, and an A-level shower. Also, thick dark curtains. It will be a place neighbors won’t hear us take each other.
We shake hands over the bed, and we are still good with fast decisions and deals.
I need thick walls, and the thicker, the better.
No one can ever hear her cry out my name or hear her moan when I make her come.
That music is for my ears only, and that music will be played three times a day, if I have my way.
After moving into Austin’s most expensive hotel and a stylish hotel suite on the rooftop, we admire the view and continue planning.
The view of Austin is stunning, and we push on as if possessed. We drop by Sam’s commercial kitchen in the Jaguar, and I start to enjoy my time away from my desk.
As I watch her work away, I respect her more for what she is doing, and I start to get distracted.
I lift her onto the large stainless steel kitchen island, and she tries to tell me she has work to do.
As I explain I’ll help and work hard after, I spin my head.
Seeing two honey containers, I grin.
“Not allowed,” my boss says, “This area is for food-related duties only.”
I remove her shoes. “Noted, I’m only eating.” Sam pauses, and I know it’s on. So does she.
I pull her denim skirt down her legs and remove her panties and bra.
They are the cute yellow ones, and they go flying. Favorites or not, they are a distraction. “Don’t you move,” I say, looking around. I then speak low, and I command her. “Eyes
closed.”
“What?”
“Do what you’re told.” I tie a clean white tea towel around her eyes, and she lies further back. “Now, open your legs!” Slowly, she does, and I remove my suit shirt and clothes.
I stand above her, naked on the steel kitchen island, and I hold the two honey containers high. They are the type with thin jet nozzles, and I start to get hard.
Slowly, I drizzle a pint of honey onto her perfect body. Watching it cover her nipples and slick folds gets me iron hard. As Sam whimpers and gets wet in the warm sun from the room’s skylight, I drizzle more of the slick honey over her thighs and neck.
Throwing the containers aside, I kneel between her legs.
After latching onto a honey-covered dark nipple, I suck hard. I then let go, and she moans.
I kiss her neck, and Samantha starts to writhe. With her arms behind her head, she is fully exposed.
I have no idea how we will get the honey off us; unless we lick it off, we will have a problem.
In saying that, it will be the only problem I have in my simple new life.
After kissing her neck, lips, chin, breasts, and stomach, I lie between her legs. I then feast on her honey-covered core.
I swipe her honey-covered pussy up and down until she is panting and begging me to stop. I then suck her honey-covered nub in and out of my lips. As I slide three fingers in, I curl them up, just how she likes it. I lick her again and again like she’s a lollipop.
My lollipop, and only mine. I finally speed up, and I force her to buck. Sam then grabs my head, and she fucks my face. I know she is close, so I bump her over the edge.
As she comes, she unravels on my tongue and around my three fingers.
It is glorious. She is glorious.
I make a mental note to get the widest variety of honey in the country, and to arrange a special table like this one in the chateau.
I will have honey time every week, and I will eat her every week, from head to toe.
After Samantha catches her breath, she takes me in her mouth.
After she sucks every drip of honey from my cock, I slide it back inside her. I then drive into her against the hard steel table, her white blindfold is still on.
I next take her against a wall, one slick hand holding her honey-covered butt, the other yanking her hair from behind.
Finally, we come together, and I carry her back to the table.
We are both covered in honey, but I’m nowhere near thinking this was a bad idea.
As my honey-covered fuck toy catches her breath, her head moves towards me. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, baby,” I say, meaning it and more. I trace a finger over her cheek, and then I remove her eye cover. Our eyes meet, and we laugh at the carnage.
“So, do you have any plans?” I ask playfully, crossing my arms.
“Some,” she says with a naughty grin.
“Good, I’ve got some, too.”
“Oh, do you now?” Sam says as I climb up and look down at her.
“First. We go home, and we make some changes. Changes are good, especially if you make them instead of them making you, right?”
“I guess,” Samantha says.
“I want you to do whatever you want with our home. With the chateau and the estate. It’s our place from now on. It’s our home.” Samantha doesn’t know what to say. “Then we’ll get married!”
“What?” comes out loud.
“Not what,” I say. “Please. Do what you’re told.”
Samantha smiles and shakes her head. I have trouble not grinning, but I push on. “Agreed?”
“Maybe,” she says as I lie between her legs and look up.
“Then kids.”
“Huh? What about…”
“What?” I ask.
“I don’t know. Maybe taking it slow.”
“I don’t ever want another woman,” I say with honestly. “You. Me. This is it. And I want it all.”
“But…”
“There are no butts, sweetheart. Actually, there is. I’ll eat your butt if that is what you—”
“No, it’s not about that!” Samantha pauses and starts to blush. “Okay, maybe you can try to do that too, but is it not all too fast?”
“No. You’re just slow, and we will need kids.”
“What?” I hold my look, and I’m serious. Deadly.
“How about we start with a dog?”
I inhale, and I like negotiating with her. I also love dogs. “Two dogs so they have a friend, like us.”
“Deal,” Samantha says, her hand shooting out fast. We shake honey hands, and it’s weird but hot.
“Then kids,” I say, meaning it. “And we can spread them out.”
Sam laughs, and I join in. I can’t help myself as I lie between her legs.
“We need a family. I only want you. We will build a family. Together.” There is silence, and I look down at my girl. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you, too,” Sam says, her honey-covered hands now holding my butt cheeks.
I am getting hard again, and the liquid between us is sexy.
“Say yes,” I command her.
“You’re not even on a knee.”
I climb straight off her. Naked and completely covered in slick wet honey, I walk to my suit jacket.
After awkwardly sliding a hand in, I remove the classy old ring box, and I walk back. Samantha’s eyes grow big as she sits up. I kneel, and she sits above me, honey-covered in the warm sun.
I take her hand and look up with the amazing ring my mother had worn.
“Sam, will you marry me? And have one chateau, two dogs, and three children with me?”
Samantha giggles, and tears form. She nods and says, “Yes. Oh, yes.”
I slide the ring onto her honey-coated finger, and I stand. I step between her slick thighs, and we hold each other tight. We then weld ourselves to each other in the warm golden sun, and we kiss like there is no tomorrow.
The only thing is, for us, there is a tomorrow.