by Jorja Tabu
HARDEST
A Short Story Continuing HARDER, An Erotic Romance
By Jorja Tabu
Copyright 2012 Jorja Tabu
This work belongs to the author. It is not available for redistribution in any state or country, and the ideas and content within belong to the author.
This work contains sexual scenes and content that are the sole responsibility of the purchaser, as is the knowledge of what content is legal and viable in their place of purchase. These scenes should not be recreated. They are intended as entertainment only.
Yamamoto exhaled slowly, his breath hot on her neck. It made Lisa’s skin shiver as she leaned over her work. “No,” he said softly, placing his strong hands on either side of hers on the desk. “That’s wrong. Do it again.”
She closed her eyes, exasperated. “Again? Seriously?”
Moist air clouded her jawline as he leaned even closer to her, and the chair creaked as he pushed it slightly forward as he bent over her. “Yes. Seriously,” he whispered, and his lips were almost touching the flesh of her earlobe; Lisa fought the urge to turn her head and suck them viciously between her own, instead turning back towards the paper in front of them. Her pencil hovered above it for a second as she hesitated, concentrating, and then she carefully completed the problem. She felt relief slide over her until his hands abruptly left her field of vision, and Lisa realized he was walking swiftly towards his own desk.
“Good work,” he said over his shoulder, shooting her a small smile before sitting down. Lisa poked her bottom lip out in a shameless pout, and he raised one eyebrow over an amber eye before returning to his own work. Smirking, she saw, and shook her head affectionately. The man was actually smirking at her disappointment.
She didn’t actually mind. In fact, she didn’t think she would ever get tired of the endless parade of mirthful expressions that now covered Yamamoto’s previously stoic face; to be honest, she only liked it better when he was... Provoked. Aroused.
In ecstasy, as he sometimes said. It’s not the moment it happens, he told her as he slid the silky washcloth over her body in the bath, kissing her throat between thoughts. It’s not then--when I finish. That’s practically inconsequential. Lisa twisted in the bath to look up at him, her face skeptical; as their bodies crashed into each other again, her soft breasts bouncing against his hard chest as the water sloshed over the edge of the tub, she’d watched his eyes begin to glow with the simmering heat she knew so well. They swept over her, from her crossed ankles where they dangled over the surface of the water, to her floating ass cheeks, to her disbelieving face as she looked into his. Yamamoto laughed at her expression, and she felt his arms coil around her, pulling her tight against him. It’s before, he’d whispered, and then his plush lips were against hers, his hands creeping lower along her spine. It’s when you’re coming that I... His fingers teased over her ass, sliding along the soapy center towards her swelling lips. That’s when it’s best, Yamamoto whispered, gripping her suddenly and pulling her up so that she straddled him, her nipples hard and so close to his lips. His tongue shot out and teased them while his cock slipped inside of her body, making Lisa gasp. Your ecstasy is my ecstasy, he said, and when he moved within her, clasping her body in his wire tight embrace, she knew it was the truth.
Lisa Tyrell was in love.
That had been their first weekend together. The first time they’d spoken or seen each other outside of a professional capacity; the first time he’d made love to her... That’s not right, Lisa thought, frowning slightly as she pretended to continue working on the problems before her. At the time, she hadn’t been sure if that’s what he’d been doing--he’d just never been inside her before. But after making her shake with desire and exquisite pain, after making her beg him to come and to stop, she supposed Yamamoto really only ever made love to her, even if it wasn’t using traditional methods. So be it, she thought, remembering as she absently tapped the eraser of her pencil against the page. That weekend was the first time he’d fucked her.
Just a hint of the memory sent another shiver racing over her body. Her back arched involuntarily, and it made her grind against the hard rubber of the heavy toy sitting upright inside of her; Lisa suppressed a groan and the urge to bounce on it. She’d been told not to squirm, or he’d take her new toy away. She noticed Yamamoto watching her and ducked her head over her paper again.
But it was too distracting--the long, thick molded cock inside of Lisa stretched her body just as he did, and thoughts of Yamamoto continued to sweep across her mind. That first moment alone, finally, totally alone--no office, no children, no one but her and Ken Yamamoto, flame-eyed and fierce in the twilight. The hotel he’d chosen was so expensive she’d only ever read about the interior of the rooms in magazines, so elegant she gasped when she opened the door to their suite, but he’d still been nervous. “Do you like it?” He watched her eyes for any sign of disapproval, but Lisa was only able to nod.
“It’s lovely,” she said, and strode towards the balcony. The ocean yawned before them, the sun dropping below the horizon only moments ago. “It’s all... It’s all so beautiful.” Lisa had never been on vacation without her children before; she and her boss had only just confessed their uneasy feelings for each other three days previous. Three awkward, frightening, desperate days. The magnitude of change in her life had unsettled her; Lisa suddenly found important reasons not to be in the single, opulent office she shared with her boss. The brilliant color of his eyes slowly dimmed, and by that Friday they almost reverted to their previous equilibrium: professional, cool, distant. “I need you to come with me to San Diego tonight,” he told her that morning. “I must have you there--the Avery deal is supposed to be closed this weekend, and you know their file better than I do.” She wanted to object, but when she’d looked up at him and seen the fire returned to his eyes...
It wasn’t wrong, that she’d needed time to process what had happened between them. It wasn’t wrong for her to need more than two days and thirty orgasms to believe he might love her. She knew he knew that, as well. But Yamamoto insisted she come on this suddenly urgent ‘business trip,’ and Lisa’s sister graciously offered to watch the kids. Her hands were sweaty as she stared out at the violet sea. On the plane, they’d spoken only of the Avery file, the impending Patterson closing, and whether or not her contract covered travel costs.
They certainly hadn’t discussed the way his long, elegant fingers crept constantly to the edge of his seat--that, for the first time she could ever remember, his tie was loose around his neck. Yamamoto was tall, and the seats were uncomfortable for him; when he stood up to pace the aisle of the plane, their legs pressed against each other for just a second as he passed. He froze. “Ms. Tyrell,” he said softly, “thank you for coming with me. This would be very difficult without you.”
Lisa was trying to erase everything she’d learned about his face--each mercurial shift of expression seemed almost noisy to her now, when for so long she’d believed him utterly impassive. “It’s an honor, sir,” she said. It was; none of the office harpies ever accompanied him on business trips. A flash of emotion--worry, relief, she couldn’t be sure--raced over his features, and then he nodded stiffly and was gone.
It was only once they reached the hotel that he revealed their rooms were next to one another. As they rode up to the top floor in the elevator, his eyes were trained on his own reflection. Lisa felt her heart begin to pound.
She shouldn’t have come.
Was she crazy?
She should be telling him she was in love with him right now, she thought, her breath beginning to keep pace with her racing heart. She should’ve just said it aloud when he had, back in the office, when he confessed... Could this be real? Lisa stared back at her own reflection, trying to see w
hat he claimed to, and almost shook her head.
No.
The walk down the long hallway to their rooms seemed to take an eternity. He politely opened her door for her and settled her bags inside as she took in the vast chamber. Lisa practically ran to the terrace door and pulled it aside, racing to the edge of the balcony as the breeze pressed against her. Her heart felt as though it were about to take flight; the rapid mix of emotion inside of her chest terrified her.
She needed to keep control, no matter how excited... No matter how much she might feel.
“Ms... Lisa,” Yamamoto said, watching her from the door. “I hope... I had to see you somewhere private, somewhere we could talk without...”
“I’m glad to be here,” she said, turning towards him. The sky was a rich violet, the breeze picking up behind her. “Neutral ground,” Lisa continued, shrugging, “is a good idea for beginning a real relationship.” Realizing how that sounded, she was suddenly afraid and immediately backpedaled. “I mean, I’m not trying to make any assumptions about what you’re expecting from this--” I love you, she thought, but the words caught in her throat, and careful, pre-made excuses came out instead. “I think this is a good idea, being here, instead of the office, to talk it out. Whatever it is we’re talking out.” She bit her lip.
Yamamoto’s face was half hidden in the long shadows. “What do you need?” He asked, and she frowned, confused.
“What do you mean? I don’t need anything right now, except--” You. “Perhaps some dinner?”
He took a slow step towards her, and as the night grew thicker around them his expression remained invisible. “What do you need from me?”
So many things, she thought. Too many. “I’m not--I don’t know--”
He was finally next to her, so close she almost took a tiny step back out of habit. The last bit of light caught his eyes, and they were electric with desperation and desire. “--I love you,” he whispered, the sound so soft the wind stole it away. “I love you, Lisa,” he said again, and she felt a knot of fear and want in her throat. “I love you,” he told her, and then his hands were around her waist, his lips hot against her throat. “What can I give you, to show you--” She gasped as his hands slid under her shirt, and let out a startled cry as they roughly tore the waistline of her skirt open, the fabric falling around her feet and leaving her bare. “What do you need from me to see--” His warm, strong fingers slipped between the thin seams of her blouse and ripped them apart, buttons flying across the balcony, scattering in the breeze. “Lisa, you are everything to me,” he whispered, and his fingertips were suddenly still against her bare skin, resting above the thin elastic of her panties. Her shirt flapped in the wind, and she leaned back against the rough, pebbled concrete of the balcony wall, the flimsy iron rail her only grip. “I will give you anything,” he whispered, “I will do anything, just please...” His voice was desperate with longing, and he panted into her hair, his forehead pressed into the rough concrete of the wall above her head. His fingertips curled around the elastic, pulling it taunt. “I know I make your body feel... I know I can give you pleasure,” he said, and she heard his voice shaking. Slowly, she reached up and pulled his face towards hers, her palms flat on his smooth cheeks. “But what I feel--I just need to know if there’s anything I can give you, to hear you say...” His eyes clenched shut in humiliation. “You never said...”
She felt horribly cruel; her earlier attempts at casual distance, her terror at the way they’d behaved in the office; how could she have known what she was doing to him? It was still too much for Lisa to believe the things he was saying, but here they were. Here he was. Yamamoto stared down at her, his beautiful amber eyes starved. “I love you, Ken Yamamoto,” she said, and his breath caught. “I love you more every day,” she whispered, and felt his fingers snap the elastic of her panties as if it were made of brittle wood. Suddenly, his body was hot against hers, the concrete scraping against her silk-covered back.
“Lisa,” he said, and she felt him, down below, the girth and heat pressing into her bare slit. “Lisa, I thought...”
“I love you,” she whispered again, her hands wrapping firmly around his neck, her legs slipping around his waist. “I love you.”
That was all he needed to hear. His thick cock slid inside of her, the weight of her body resting in his hands as her shoulders grew exquisitely raw from the friction. He thrilled into her, pounding the words out of her mouth, his strong hands kneading her flesh. Lisa came in seconds, and came again, and again. The wind stole all her confessions away, but she knew he heard them this time. He understood. When they were finished, the moon looked down where they stood on the balcony, her clothes a tattered heap.
“I cannot tell you how long I have been waiting,” he whispered, pulling her tight against his chest. “I cannot tell you how much I have needed this.”
She hadn’t known then, but she did now. “Ms. Tyrell,” Yamamoto called from his desk. His voice hinted at a warning. “Are you still working on the second problem?”
Lisa thought hard; it was always tricky, getting what she wanted out of these situations. Should she lie? No. That didn’t feel right. “Yes,” she said, and blinked up at him innocently. He frowned.
“Your test is four days from now,” he said quietly.
“I can’t concentrate, sir,” she told him, and sat up a little straighter; her nipples bobbed above the surface of her desk, the little clamps on them catching on the edge and sending a shockwave through her body. The fires began to burn in his eyes, smoldering beneath the concern in his face.
“Ms. Tyrell,” he said slowly as he stood up from his desk. “You were made a partner in my firm with the understanding that you would pass the board exam and be fully certified, were you not?” She watched him slowly unfasten his belt as he began to cross the room towards her.
Their new office was even higher than the old one; there were fewer employees and more work, but Yamamoto was now delighted to get away from his father’s scrutiny. Lisa had barely been able to comfort him after the phone call when he informed Yamamoto Sr. he was leaving; the big man almost broke down, and she’d held him in her lap for hours. Before you, he’d told her, my father was the only other person in the world I would rather die than disappoint.
You won’t disappoint him, she said, soothing the worry from his forehead. This is probably the only way to gain real respect from a man like that.
He looked up at her, his expression solidifying into determination. You’re right, he said. I never realized it before, but you’re absolutely right.
And she was. Yamamoto’s firm was more profitable and produced higher quality work than the department he supervised in his father’s corporation ever had. He received offers for acquisition almost weekly.
His own father was the latest bidder he’d turned down. It was a friendly exchange.
“I thought this was our firm,” she returned, and licked her lips. “Sir.” His eyes burned.
“It will be,” he said softly, “when you pass that test.”
“I could pass that test if I could study, sir,” she whispered, “but I’m just too distracted.”
“You’re too undisciplined,” he said, and suddenly he was behind her. Lisa felt his long fingers in her hair, gently guiding her to stand. The toy made it hard for her to do it smoothly, but she managed; her body was forced into a gentle curve as it sprang free from her slick lips with a sullen pop, the damp flesh now slightly sore from resting on the ridges of its form. The suction cup holding the dildo steady on the chair would make it impossible to yank off, so Yamamoto simply knocked the whole contraption over. It was the third chair he’d had to buy her; he had a tendency to get careless with the furniture. She felt his stiff cock press against her through his wool pants and sharply inhaled. “I’ll supervise,” he told her, pushing her belly down on the desk. Lisa heard his zipper and opened her legs a little wider, knowing her whole body was open before him. She’d been sitting on that massive rubber
cock all morning; her poor pussy would be pink and damp and plainly begging as he looked down at it. Yamamoto’s fingers gripped her hair and forcefully turned her head to face the paper. “What’s the number in the first column?” His voice was calm, even; the hot head of his cock gently slipped between her soaked inner lips but refused to enter further. Lisa shuddered. “Concentrate, Ms. Tyrell,” he said smoothly.
“Four,” she whispered, and his long fingers threaded through her hair as he roughly plunged into her--one, two, three, four. She moaned, but he immediately pulled out, teasing her again with the tip of his cock.
“The number in the next column,” he said, and there was a hungry undercurrent threading the calm in his voice.
“Thirteen,” she whimpered, and he began again, pounding against her--one, two, three, four, five... This time, his hands gripped her shoulders, holding her shaking body aloft just enough for her nipples to catch on the edge of the desk with each thrust. The sensation made her yelp and squirm, but he was strong, his hands firm. Heat bloomed in Lisa’s belly, and as he approached ten he pulled her shoulders back, dipping her spine into an arc while his cock slammed inside, angling up. “Nine, ten, eleven,” he grunted, slowing down and pumping deeper. His cock was so far inside of her Lisa couldn’t tell where it ended--and then the orgasm quickened as he slowed even further--”twelve. Thirteen,” he panted, and immediately pulled out.
Lisa couldn’t help it--she’d been right on the precipice--”Please, sir, can I please--”
He did love to hear her beg. His fingers ran greedily over her shaking body, but Yamamoto’s cock remained teasingly close without going inside. Lisa felt the sticky juices on his tip slide against her opening and bucked. He bit her neck, moving again to deny her his cock. “When you finish the problem, tell me the sum,” he whispered, and his beautiful long fingers slid over her shoulders and down the slope of her chest. He covered her throat with hot kisses while his hands began lightly batting her breasts; they swung against each other, softly bouncing away again, the clamps catching and dragging on the desk. Her nipples were so swollen she almost came from that contact alone, but Lisa wanted it all: she forced herself to slow her breath and stare down at the numbers swimming on the page in front of her. He slapped her breasts a little harder, and they pinged against one another; the chain between her nipple clamps caught and pulled, and it sent a thrill of exquisite pain straight to her pussy. She clenched her eyes shut and concentrated. “Forty five percent,” she whispered, finally, and his hands slapped her breasts one more time, hard, snapping the chain taunt between her tortured nipples, and the ball of fire growing urgent at the base of her spine exploded. Just as the orgasm began to ripple through her torso, Yamamoto sank his cock inside of her, biting down on her shoulder and chanting through his teeth. “One, two, three...” There were tears in her eyes, she was coming so hard. When she finished, gasping for air, he slowed down and gently began to unfasten the clamps. Her nipples ached. “Ten,” he whispered, kissing her shoulder as he tenderly massaged her breasts. “Eleven.” His clever fingers ran over her entire torso, feather light, as his hot lips nibbled and teased and tasted her from behind. “Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen.” His cock slid in and out, just a few inches; each stroke was soft as sin. He pulled Lisa upright against him, letting her lean back on his long frame, his cock barely bobbing in and out of her. She began to moan again when she felt his fingers slip over her thighs and find her clit.
