I am shot full of bliss, and its center is my tight, wet pussy. Finally, I stop surging and I slump down, used up.
Harry pulls my panties off me, placing them in his suit jacket pocket. He then helps me straighten my skirt, and I give him wicked eyes. He winks back and thumbs my lower lip. “You’re mine forever, and don’t ever think you’re not.”
I am unsure what to think of it.
Deep down, I like it, and I like it almost as much as I like him.
After we pickup the Jaguar and drive it back, we have a long shower in the timeless and classy hotel. Then, we have a small dinner downstairs.
I adore the famous landmark hotel, and I want to see more of it. There is only one problem: time. At seven-thirty, we are picked up, and we are driven to the last art gallery.
It is just as well we have the place to ourselves. It is massive, and it ismesmerizing.
Someone has arranged an amazing picnic for us and they have even left a perfect table and chair set up in the gallery.
As we walk in silence with champagne and canapés, we feast on the world-class art.
What is cooler still is the fact that the table has been placed in front of some of the best and most expensive art in the world.
That is when I realize, Harry is perfect.
The only real problem is when he fucks me, he doesn’t know when to stop. He also makes me come like there is no tomorrow. But with him, now, I know there is a tomorrow.
Because he is mine, and I am his.
37
HARRISON
After a wonderful evening, plus a productive day signing the agreements to build our global media and entertainment conglomerate and seeing contacts in a film studio regarding collaborations, I awake in the night.
I then have trouble sleeping, and I am restless. My instincts have always been good, and something feels wrong.
Maybe I’m just being paranoid, and maybe I’m unable to let my guard down. Or turn my mind off fully.
Last week, William mentioned the idea of retiring. I’ve been thinking about that on and off. He also said Tusk was starting to eat less.
My inner alarms are firing as I look over and see Samantha in the moonlight.
I stand on the balcony, looking across Manhattan, and Central Park, and I wait for the sun to rise.
Just before five, my personal cell rings. I take it away from the bed and from the stirring Sam. “One minute,” I say low, stepping onto the balcony, and now into the rising sun. “Go,” I say.
“Wehave a problem.”
I already know that because a call at this time only means one thing.Trouble. William would also never call this early unless it’s an emergency.
“Shoot,” I growl, rubbing my neck.
“Security heard Tusk this morning, and it sounded like he was in pain.”
My jaw tightens, and I don’t like it. “And?”
“And I found him lying down, Harry. Blood was running from his mouth, and he was heaving.”
“Jesus.”
“It’s as if something has ruptured.”
