Chapter 57: Chapter Fifty-seven

Harry and I went to the restaurant that I found earlier. We ordered some seafood. I can still imagine his cock in my hands. Damn. I can't take it off my mind how he exploded his load on my face. That was so erotic. I wish I had captured that moment with low shutter speed. Just for a souvenir. I want to do it again and explode with him. I can feel my juice dancing inside of me. It must be the effect of holding it back from coming.

"Babe, are you okay?" Harry asked. "Is it about the food? I remember you had an allergy to some seafood. You can eat something else if you want."

If only he knew it's not about the food that makes me feel itchy, but the thought of him fucking me. "Can I... Can I have salad and steak instead, please?" I asked; my throat feels dry.

"Yeah, sure. You can eat any food you want. Just tell me." He called the waitress and asked her if they have salad and steak.

"We have, sir. Do you want me to serve you?" The waitress asked, as if she meant something else by the word "serve."

"Nope. It's for my girlfriend," Harry said. "He wants to eat steak and salad instead."

The waitress looked at me. She seemed surprised to hear that I'm Harry's girlfriend. "Ah, okay. I'll get her the food right away, sir." She went away and came back with a tray of bowls of salad and a plate of beefsteak. She put them on the table in front of me and was about to go away when Harry stopped her.

"Hey miss, wait," Harry said, his hand on her arm.

"Yes, sir?" The waitress asked, looking back.

"Uh, sorry." Harry immediately took back his hand. "I want to order a bottle of your most expensive wine."

"Right away, sir." She continued with a triumphant smile on her face.

Harry looked at me. "Go on, darling. Eat all you can."

Uh, yeah. I want to eat you too, Harry. I want to lick every inch of your body. If you only knew what I'm thinking right now, perhaps you'd use your fingers to penetrate me again. Perhaps you'll make me take a glimpse of heaven as you thrust your erection inside of me. Uh, shit. I want you so bad, Daddy.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked. "You're not eating your food. Aren't you hungry?"

I shook my head and tried my best to focus on what's in front of me right now. The table was filled with plates of seafood, crabs, clams, prawns, a big roasted fish, a bowl of salad, steak, forks, spoons, knives, and glasses of water. Harry is sitting in front of me in his white shirt with the top two buttons undone, a silver chain necklace, and an expensive watch around his wrist, with veiny arms and a hairy chest. He looked so hot with his long black hair that had turned curly and deep blue eyes that pierced through everything as if he had the power to see what's beyond the physical. He has matured a lot from the Harry I used to know.

It's still clear in my mind how he lookedwhen he was lying naked on our bed. I bit my lower lip as I thought about it. I feel guilty as our eyes meet. I hurriedly looked down, picked up the spoon, and ate my salad.

This is the worst torture I've ever received in my whole life. There's something I badly want to do but can't. I gobbled all the salad in my mouth and choked or gagged like how Harry would fuck my mouth with his seven inches, but he just laughed at me.

"Take it easy, darling," he said. His voice is so gentle and sexy that it turns me on even more.

I sliced the steak into tiny pieces and started eating it with Harry watching me. I chewed it, remembering how Harry raised his hips while the tip of his erection touched the back of my throat. How he poured his semen into my mouth... I'm glad he doesn't know what I am thinking right now.

I came back to the present moment when the waitress came back with the bottle of wine and glasses. She put them on the table, and Harry thanked her. I noticed how she smiled at my fiancé, flirting with him, but Harry didn't respond at all. I understand that there are a lot of women who want him, especially those sluts. I thought it was finally over; I didn't know that there are flirty women everywhere. Harry is the most perfect man every woman could ask for: handsome, clever, wealthy, and with a big cock. I should be grateful to have him instead of getting jealous. Despite having everything, he still chooses me; he could really give it all up for me. The waitress waved her fingers as she walked away.

"Nice wine," Harry said, taking the bottle of Liber Pater. He removed the cap and expertly poured the dark liquid into the glasses. The way he moves—no wonder why those customers at the bar had fallen in love with him and kept coming back. "Here." He handed me one of the glasses.

I reached out for the glass, and our hands touched, and for a moment, we looked into each other's eyes. I had a glimpse of his soul, the version of him that no one else knows. The raw, authentic, wounded Harry and I realized that outside appearances can indeed be deceiving. A genuine smile crept on his lips as his blue eyes gleamed like the stars in the night sky as he let go of the glass of wine.

"Cheers," he said.

"Cheers," I responded. I gulped the wine, like how I swallowed his seeds. "Damn. It's delicious." Oh god, I forgot our age gap. I shouldn't talk like this to an older man. He's 25 and I'm 18. I said sorry, but he just smiled and didn't mind it.

"I'm glad you like it," he said. "Let's refill your glass."

Yes, I do, Harry. I like your seeds in my throat a lot. I handed him the glass, and we touched again. My heart skipped a beat for a moment. I don't know why I feel this way.

A memory came back to my mind: the first time we met at Simeon's brothel, the way he'd look at me, with something burning in his eyes. I really thought he wanted to have sex, but that'd spoil our story if that happened. I wouldn't have gotten to know him and become his fiancee rather than a one-night toy. I wouldn't have the chance to be married to him and have his last name as mine, like I own him and he owns me.