James The Butler

I felt my legs nudged apart by his knees while he nibbled my ear and thought, my my my, isn't he flexible? The weight of James settled again, the hard tip of his penis just entering me.

"Tell me you want me," he growled.

"I want you, now." I was whispering, shattered already. I had meant to resist, really, but I was pinned down, my arms trapped, and all I wanted was release.

"How do you want it?"

"Hard, fast," I begged so easily.

He moved slowly, so slowly that I thought I might die. It felt like an eternity before he was completely inside me. I was captive to him, all I could see was his headboard and all I could feel was a cage of iron clad muscle around me, hardness inside me. He moved so slowly in and out, driving me into a frenzy of twisting hips and legs.

"Please James," I begged without shame. The begging didn’t work and so I flexed my muscles inside to try and draw him even deeper.

"Sweet Jesus!" he cursed then and pulled his hips back violently. I braced but he only sank in slow. Out slow and in again, like a drug draining me of my will and making me crazy.

Slowly back and forth until the chills along my spine turned hot and the burning blazed like ice over my body. I was weeping inside, my body was beyond my control, played out like a taut violin string to be plucked to a perfect note not of my desire.

But reason won out and he began to move faster and faster. His sweat mingled with mine and though his hands slipped on my wrists they never wavered in their hold. He was close, so close I could feel the raucous tension and I felt a spurt of my own moisture between my legs in response. I was close, so close, but I wished to deny him. I wanted him to come first so I knew it was me who controlled my body, not James.

My legs were spread far apart and his hips were curling into me, his cock thrust hard like poetic violence. I bit my lip, I thought about any distraction I could, but it did no good. I exploded with a hoarse cry and a split second later he surged heavily into me, spurting impossibly more than he had just minutes before.

This time he did collapse onto me, and I didn't mind.

He rolled to the side fairly quickly and curled me into the crook of his arm. I was never one for cuddling, and I hated those kinds awkward moments. He looked far too sated and I was feeling far too…close to him.

"Where's the towel?" I raised myself up on an arm and looked for it o the dark floor.

He lifted his head, following me as I sat up all the way.

"Here." He frowned as he handed it to me.

I scooted away and cleaned up.

He just watched as I gathered up my dress and bra, found my torn panties. "Do you have a robe I can borrow?"

"Take mine, it’s hanging on the door. What's going on?"

I picked up my heels and stood, crossing to the hook where the robe waited. "James, let's not make this messy. You should know the drill. I'm still your employer, you're still my employee. I got what I believe we both came here for."

He should have been hurt by that on some level, but he just looked puzzled. I took the robe and wrapped it around my nudity, belting it tight. "I'll bring this back."

"Don't worry about it. I’ll grab it before Consuela sees it."

He fell silent and I was too chicken to look at him as I slunk out. The door closed behind me and I padded out over the marble floor, slipping in my stockings. No one else was there to see my shame, no one to witness my triumph. I smiled and crept up the stairs to my own suite. # Tuesday was a day spent interviewing and planning. Ensconced in my suite Donna the planner and I came up with ideas for her to implement over the week, between my interviews. I didn't really care and that gave her total control which planners always love.

I avoided James in the morning and that worked out well. Dad kept him tied up. Bobby brought a few friends over and I gave them permission to use the game room in the afternoon, which James knew meant he had to baby sit.

I selected an assistant in Sean MacPherson, a rough hewn and large boned Scotsman. His father was a lawyer with gramps and I knew this was a spy. Grandfather sent a missive that he wanted Sean polished for the boardroom.

I think he was underestimating the soft spoken Scot. Sure he looked like a mountain, his features too broad and rough to be handsome, but he wore wire rimmed glasses and his manners were impeccable. He needed no finishing but agreed to move into the suite next to James and start the next day.

I spent the evening with Jeff and we talked, danced salsa, discussed books we'd read, movies we'd seen. His latest boy toy dropped by and to my surprise he was an associate professor at the U of C. He brought good wine and quips on philosophy. By the end of the night I may or may not have promised to donate to a fund he spearheaded to preserve old books. When people met a Hyde, they always wanted money, but I didn't mind with Philippe. He was amusing, and I sincerely wished him well, though I knew Jeff would not keep him around.

Jeff drove me home and I invited him inside but he refused, citing an early day. So we kissed like family and I waved him away while the new goons from grandfather pulled around the corner.

Inside I heard Bobby and his friends in the back yelling, the sound of pool balls clacking. Dad was upstairs snoring and all else was well. Sean was out presumably gathering his things and the rest of the staff was quietly at work, out of the way.

I put my jacket on the tree for James or Consuela to put away and plopped down in the entertainment room. I wanted to watch TV and I had a TiVo of Simpsons to catch up on. I set it up and wandered into the kitchen where the boys had made a mess. Quickly so as not to see James I made popcorn and grabbed a diet coke for snacking and slinked into my leather womb.

I laughed and munched and felt like the lowest form of life on earth. Did that make me fungus, or bacteria? Whatever was the lowest, well, it was on top of me.

"Miss Hyde."

I froze; it was James, and he was being formal. Was that good? I didn't know.

"Yes?" I sat up, turned around, and was relieved to see that Bobby was with him. "Hey Bobby, what's up?"

"I shouldn't have to ask permission for overnight guests."

"Well, you do. This is my house, but if you want anyone in your dungeon you don’t need to, so I assume you want a guest room.”

He nodded.

“For the love of God, don't get too weird and treat her like a lady. I do not want to find what I did last time."

He blushed to be dressed down but this was one of the few times he wasn’t doped up. It was a rare chance to nag him. Unlike Dad, who had acclimated to the lifestyle of the rich, Bobby couldn't get used to being a master of his own ship, he still looked to me.

"This sucks."

"Be that as it may, it’s my house, my rules.” God, did James know I was speaking of needles and other drugs? I did not want that in my house and I was ashamed to know Bobby brought it in. “James please ready the rose suite, and set up a bottle of champagne."

Maybe alcohol would keep them busy.

"Yes Miss," he said. And there it was. Husky, a caress in a voice alone, like he'd touched me beneath all my clothes and set me on fire.

Damn it! It never came to good to fuck the servants, to be infatuated with them. I thought of Carlotta Bangs, who just last year took her pool boy as a lover. The scandal and resulting divorce had ruined her.

What was I to do? He was a masterful lover and though he had taken the upper hand, he had made me enjoy it. He’d demanded me to beg and I did, without hesitation. He’d wanted me subdued and I let him push me down, fuck me from behind. How could you let someone do that to you and then boss them around? Treat them like moveable furnishings? I had no idea.

I shut off the Simpsons and went into the basement. The majority of the dark rooms were Bobby's, but the back was mine. There were the laundry facilities, the spa room, and the large weight room. A small changing room was stuck by the spa and inside I went to change into some spandex that wouldn't hinder my movements.

Dressed in my customary and preferred black I stretched and warmed up on the treadmill. Then I moved on to arm weights and pushed and burned. I'd turned on the computer and songs from my MP3s pounded out furiously against the sound proof walls. I pumped in time to the music, grunting and groaning as I went.

I switched station to station and finally came to my legs. Those I worked hard on, proud of. Not so much muscle they weren't feminine, but toned so much they were shapely and often drew more attention than my breasts.

I finished on my butt and abs and cooled down with an hour of martial arts practice. Positions, strikes, attacks, and defense. I centered myself, tuned out the world, and became one with the force inside me.

When I stopped I was amazed to see the room was still empty for in my mind my enemies surrounded me; shame, doubt, distrust, and more. But there was nothing but bare walls, the shiny polished mirror, the Precor equipment and the doors.

I wiped my brow and slunk into the changing room.

For relaxation I stripped down and wrapped a mint green towel around me, revving up the spa steam room. With my hair tied loosely up I stepped inside to the two benches, one low and one high, both wrapping around three sides. It could seat ten comfortably so I had room to lay down and that's what I did, on the high one. No one else would come down, I knew that for sure, so I opened the towel to expose all my skin to the steam.

Closing my eyes I drank in the programmed music, Pure Moods. The overall tone of the music was sensual and my mind drifted as it naturally would. I imagined James, the way his body looked in the dim light in his room. All hard sinews and curving muscles, power in a sleek compact model. Sex on wheels.

How on earth had he chosen life as a butler? From his education and personality he could have been the CEO of a very powerful company, yet he was working for me. The pay was better than most similar postings but he was still a servant.

The look in his eyes, that's what made me question him. It was rare a man was a predator with class. Too many men were wimps, waiting to be led, or vultures solely focused on selfish pursuits or pain. A true predator was a man with eyes that told you he knew what he wanted and you'd enjoy it a helluva lot more if you gave it up willingly, but he was always up for a fight.

I shivered at that thought and my nipples hardened. I let my fists curl up and my back arched as I prayed the sexual tension would flow out of me. James was forbidden fruit and that made him all the more alluring, haunting my thoughts. A sane woman would either chain him to her bed or dismiss him, but I was determined to do neither.

Well, nothing on earth is worse for concentration than sexual deprivation. With that thought I gave in to the wicked urge and plucked my nipple. The pop and twang of sensation made me moan and I bit my lip.

My breath huffed out but my eyes remained closed, attuned solely to the music and my pleasure. I trailed my hand down to dip at my waist, smooth at the flare of my hip and slide between my parted legs. I was wet, hot, dripping at the memory of the night before. My imagination went wild; inside me I could still feel James filling me up, outside it was not my hands but his on me.

It almost hurt to know it was only my slender and cool finger brushing my clitoris, only my thin fingers sliding inside and drawing my juices. They always felt too slight and sharp, nothing like a man’s, but it was enough for the moment. I twitched and arched, struggling to find the familiar tendril that would pull me to orgasm.

I caught it as my fingers feathered back and forth over my clit, pulsing and pushing the blossom contained inside me until I exploded. I cried out, a shallow hoarse shout that was nothing compared to what James could draw out.

As the cloud parted I felt the warmth, hotter and wetter than the room upon my nipple. I opened my eyes and found a golden crown bent over me, the naked body leaning over my own was James.

I gasped and pushed him away. "What are you doing?" He smiled at me and licked his lips. My spine was electrified even as I wrapped the towel hastily around me, still wet and trembling. His eyes were dark, his look feral, and James was silent.

"I said, what do you think you're doing?"

"You enjoyed that," he said at long last.

I blushed and damn me for that. One would think by now I'd have been more cosmopolitan, but at heart I just wasn’t. "So? I didn't invite it, now leave!"

He stepped closer and I scooted back. Another step, another scoot until my back hit the wall and he knelt on the low bench before me. "You didn't think I would, now did you?"

I was scared and angry, more aroused than I'd ever been.

"Tell me to leave Keelin, tell me you don't really want me and I'll believe you."

His hand reached for me and I watched, dazed, as his fingers curled over the knot of towel I was clutching, brushing my skin.

"I don't think this is a good idea." God, that sounded pathetic, even to my ears.

"You know what I can do for you. You like what I do, you want more."

The hunger in him was evident, and so was the fact that he could overpower any show of force I might offer. Between his narrow hips the hard evidence of his arousal bobbed slightly with every harsh breath he took.

I jerked my eyes back up to his. "That doesn't matter, James. We shouldn't do this."

"Says who?" His face dipped close to mine, so close I could feel his breath.

"Says me."

"If you're worried about blackmail, you have my word I won't do it."

I laughed weakly. He wouldn’t, but how could I know he wasn’t reporting my wanton behavior to my grandfather? "How in the hell can I justify screwing an employee?"

"You don't. Just relax. Relax, you're always so tight."

I frowned and he kissed the spot between my eyebrows. The bastard had loosened my grip on the towel, or had I done it myself? It had slipped to reveal my left breast and his fingers were stroking the overlooked nipple.

"Why are you doing this?" Even I could hear the moan, the surrender in my voice.

He stepped closer and his massive erection pressed into my thigh. That was to be his answer.

"Enough games, Keelin. Tell me to leave or tell me you want me."

I froze and he growled. At the end of patience, James ripped the towel away and flung it across the little room. His hands flew to my thighs and jerked them apart. Before I could breathe his head dipped low and his tongue was buried in my pussy.

Crying out I could do little but dig the points of my nails into his back as he stroked me with that magic tongue. Like fire branding me he blazed a path of my length, flicking my clit before sucking it deep and swiping his tongue back down to push inside.

I bucked and grunted, scoring his back as punishment for the brutal pleasure. The orgasm galloped up on me, took me by surprise, and I went supernova. Jesus his tongue was moving like lightning and yet slow enough to draw every sensation from me he desired.

I was electric; I was on fire; I never wanted it to end. His mouth left to be replaced by two fingers as I still spasmed.

"Shit, you're ready."

Before I could think clearly, he scooped me up, carrying me like a fireman to the lower bench. James sat and situated me on his lap so I straddled him.

"Ride me Keelin, ride me like you want to. I know you want to."

Shameless hussy I'd become, I grasped his thick penis and stroked a few times, from precum to base, drawing out a moan. I moved quickly, my fist tight, trying to bring him up to my level of arousal, praying he would lose control. At last his hand covered mine and kept it still.

"Witch," he cursed. He grabbed my hands and forced them onto his shoulders, where I could only squeeze as he slid my hips down, my pussy sheathing him. We were quickly fused, hip to hip, and the feeling was incredible.

I was impaled so deeply that my breath was stolen into the steamy air. His hand slipped between us, teasing my clitoris. I twitched and my breath broke, ragged.

"Move on me. God, now."

I closed my eyes and began to move like a piston. I wanted fast and hard, and he was letting me set the pace. I felt him swell and flex even larger and I almost swooned. God he was so big, everything, his shoulders, his thighs, his cock deep inside me.

My third orgasm hit me like thunder and I moaned something unintelligible followed by what felt like a shriek. James bunched his arms around me and dug his fingers into my hips, pushing me up, pulling me down, dragging me through my pulsing. He undulated my hips so that I ground against him, purely wanton and begging for more.

I wanted to stop and the bastard only smiled at me, rows of pearly white teeth flashed teasingly. I dug my fingers in and took him by storm, wanting him at my command. I wanted every ounce of hard muscle quivering for me. I wanted his spirit broken to my will, crushed beneath mine.

I was grinding now, desperate for more pleasure and though he felt it too, he was not as close as me. I tried to move in more of a thrust but he wouldn’t let me. The orgasm was there and I swore in frustration, letting myself tumble once more.

When I came down he'd stilled my hips and was kissing me. I lost myself to his soft lips and when my hips twitched beneath his hands he held me fast. It was so hot feeling him hard as a rock inside me while his lips were so gentle. My only recourse was to flex my muscles inside.

I whimpered and he pulled away bracing his forehead against mine. "Christ, you're so goddamn hot. Don't move or I'll lose it. Please."

He was serious, and I didn’t think he was aware of what he was saying. I nudged his head back, took his lips, and grabbed his hands in mine. With them pinned to the high bench he was mine to command. When I began to move he didn't stop me and I slammed my hips up and down, thrusting him in and out.

When he came I tumbled with him, and we yelled into each other's mouths. As I came down from that highest peak and slid my face down the side of his neck I knew I was in trouble. This was too perfect; when he lost control I felt better than I ever had.

As long as he was inside me I didn’t care that he was a spy, I didn’t care about anything. Shit. I needed space, time away from him.

"James, we can't keep doing this."

"Don't see why not."

"James," I licked the sweat beneath is ear just to feel him shiver. "You don't know what's going on here."

"So tell me."

I pulled back and looked into his eyes, a clearer blue now.

"What do you expect to happen? You work for me. I'm an heiress. This is just a bad idea." I didn’t trust him with the truth. If grandfather found out not only would I lose my money and James his job, but Bobby and dad would be homeless.

He lifted me with a sigh to match my own and set me down, then got up to fetch the towel. He brought it to me and batted my hands away, cleaning me up. The intimacy and possession of the act had me blushing.

"You're too serious, Keelin. You don't need to worry about anything but the present. The future tends to take care of itself."

I laughed, a hollow sound. "Shows what you know. When you're a Hyde there is only the future. The present is meaningless."

He sat down next to me and I was surprised by how comfortable we were naked. "Tell me about your grandfather, what he’s like. Tell me why you’re so afraid off him."

"How can you live in this town and not know about him?"

"I mean as his granddaughter. Tell me about him as a grandfather."

"I didn't meet him until I was twenty four."

James smiled. "That's a start."

"He wanted an heir and he spent the first six months ignoring me and looking at Bobby."