The Soprano Ch. 02

She didn't get very far. Sebastien grasped her around the waist again, kissing her deeply and pushing her down onto the arm of the sofa. She toppled backward with Sebastien on top of her, pressing every inch of their bodies together very intimately as he kissed her neck. Claire shivered with pleasure, holding him tightly to her for a moment before remembering her plans. She slid out from underneath him, and had made it up the stairs before he caught up to her again.

He spun her around and backed her up against the wall, capturing her mouth again. He pressed his hips into hers and she shuddered as she felt him, thick and hard against her. He cupped her breasts and she moaned into his mouth.

"Please..." she managed to say. "In the bedroom."

"I think I have waited long enough. I want to fuck you right here, up against the wall where I can hear your sweet voice crying out in my ear."

She blushed, but shook her head. "I have something for you."

"I have something for you, too," he murmured, and Claire laughed in surprise. This was so unlike him. She managed to squirm away and get into his bedroom, where she snatched up the object she'd left on his bed. When he came into the room, she held it out to him: a brand-new paddle. It was a thin, flexible leather paddle reminiscent of private-school punishments, and it was supposed to hurt -- really, really hurt. Maybe it would have been more appropriate if she'd been wearing a schoolgirl uniform, but it was a vintage style and that was good enough for her.

"Don't forget you said you'd punish me," she reminded him. He took the paddle, but though she saw the glint in his eyes when he ran his hand over it, he set it back down onto the bed. Then he pulled her in close again, kissing her cheeks, her neck, her shoulders.

"Mmm, I have other plans tonight." Claire placed her hands on his shoulders, pushing back slightly took look him in the eyes.

"No, Maestro. You have to punish me. You promised! I won't agree to anything else until you've done that first," she said sweetly. Sebastien's eyes narrowed, and Claire knew she'd made his night a little more complicated. He should punish her, both for earlier and for her resistance now, but if he did he would be giving in to what she was demanding. That would never do. So what would he do?

He grabbed her upper arms firmly, turning her around and backing her into the wall firmly. Then, he ran his hands down to her wrists and pressed them back into the wall with even more force, indicating without saying so that she should not move them. He trailed his fingers down her neck, to her chest, until he was cupping her breasts again, finding her hard nipples through the silky fabric and pinching them while she tried not to squirm. His lips found her ear, murmuring darkly into it.

"I will punish you, do not doubt it. But do not forget who is in command here. You will not like what happens if you do."

Claire shivered a little, loving the way she'd pushed Sebastien toward the side of him that had attracted her to him. She felt herself getting wet and was nearly as eager as Sebastien to feel him inside her. He slid his hands around to her back and pulled her zipper down in a long, slow line. The straps slipped down over her shoulders, and he gently tugged her dress down until it pooled at her feet.

His eyes devoured her as she stood there, flat against the wall in her romper and crinoline. He stood there for a long moment, just watching her, as if he was committing her image to memory. She was beginning to feel self-conscious, when he ran his fingertips lightly over the hem of her crinoline and then underneath it to pet her inner thigh just above the knee. He ran them up until he found her wetness, then teased her gently for a moment. Withdrawing his fingers, he licked them clean as he watched her watch him.

She looked down in embarrassment then, and he only smiled in return. He pulled down her crinoline carefully and took in what she was wearing underneath. Bending over, he nibbled gently on her breasts through the soft lacy cups of her lingerie. Claire whimpered, feeling her nipples harden in his mouth. He slid the lace cups down, exposing her breasts to him. His hands ran over them, squeezing them gently before he took each nipple into his mouth. He bit down gently, licked them until they were almost painfully hard.

Down, down he drew her romper until she was naked and trembling before him. He shifted her dress and crinoline aside gently. When he looked up at her with fire in his eyes, she understood he'd been gentle only to avoid tearing her pretty clothes. He pulled off his own shirt and unzipped his pants, then leaned over, planting his palms on either side of her.

"Now. I think I have been patient enough. I will have you, and I will have you now," he said firmly. Claire looked up, feeling herself melt under his intense gaze. She waited for him to ravish there as she stood, and felt her heart start to beat wildly as he moved forward to take her into his arms. But instead of taking her against the wall, he lifted her into his arms and carried her over to the bed. He slid his pants off, climbing onto the bed with her and kissing her softly.

He lifted her arms above her head, anchoring them there with one of his hands as he slid inside her just as slowly as he could. It was such a dramatic change from how she'd thought it would go, and she had to admit she found the switch as arousing as anything. Sebastien peppered her face with kisses, nuzzled her neck, fondled her breasts as he thrust into her deeply. She whimpered and moaned, feeling overloaded with sensations.

Claire watched Sebastien as he moved in her, saw the immense control on his face as he resisted...what? Well, she knew what she wanted. Could she make him give it to her?

"Sebastien," she murmured against his lips as he came in for another kiss. He froze for a moment, meeting her eyes curiously. "Why don't you take what you really want?" she whispered in his ear before biting down on his earlobe and pulling on it gently. He sighed out softly, closing his eyes and burying his face into the space between her neck and shoulder.

"What I really want, dearest, is you. I love you." It was the first time he'd said it since, well, the first time they'd said it. Claire felt warm all the way down to her toes, and she turned her head to the side to look into his eyes again.

"I love you, too." She felt his cock swell within her and he released her arms, letting her run her fingertips up and down his sides. Their lips met again, softly, fiercely. He bumped his hips against hers and she thrilled to the feel of his cock sliding in and out of her. Every moment she expected him to speed up, pound into her harder, but he kept up the deliciously slow, steady pace. It felt amazing with every inch of their naked skin sliding together, their legs and tongues tangling.

Still the orgasm took her by surprise, and then she was writhing beneath him and moaning into his mouth as she tightened around him. He grasped her hips firmly in his hands and gave two more quick thrusts, spilling his come into her. She felt his heart beating rapidly against her, listened to him blow out the breath he'd been holding. He looked down at her tenderly, stroking the hair that had fallen from where it had been pinned.

Foolishly, Claire began to believe that was all there was going to be for the night. Her body was already slipping into lethargy in the warmth and comfort of Sebastien's arms. But all too soon, he was pulling back from her and sliding on his pants -- so he definitely meant business. She wondered what he was up to, already having forgotten the new toy she'd gotten him. When he picked it up and tested it against his own palm, wincing a little at the impact, she swallowed nervously.

"I will be in my office when you are ready," he said with a little smile, walking out of the room and tapping the strap against his palm.

-----

Although she had already showered that day, Claire simply couldn't resist taking a quick, hot bath before going to his office to get her punishment. Partly, she was seeking the relaxation of the warm embrace of the water. But also, it heightened her anticipation.

An hour later, she padded down the hallway completely naked and pushed open the door to Sebastien's office. He had lit a fire in the fireplace and was reclining on his leather sofa reading. He set the book down and beckoned to her, running his hands over her skin, soft and scented with lavender bath oil.

"Now, mon abeille, do you recall why I am punishing you?"

Her lips twitched slightly as she answered, "For tying you up, and...um, and violating you."

"You find this entertaining?"

"Only because you liked it, Maestro," she replied with a little sass. He didn't look as amused as she felt. He frowned at her and she really had to fight to keep from smiling.

"I was going to give you only a half dozen strokes, but now I am afraid I must give you a full dozen. Hopefully you will find it less amusing after that."

"Yes, Maestro." He patted his lap and she climbed onto the couch, bending over his lap and giving her ass a cute little wiggle in anticipation. She felt him sliding his palm over her buttocks, and she was hoping he would give her a few swats to warm her up.

Instead, she felt a thick line of searing pain cross her buttocks as he brought the strap down onto her. She squealed and writhed, but he held his arm across her lower back and prevented her from rising off his lap.

"Stings, doesn't it?" he murmured. She nodded miserably, tears springing to her eyes as he gave her a further two smacks, one right on the heels of the other. With each impact, the heat built until she was sniffling, tears running constantly from her eyes and pooling on the leather below her. The heat blasting from the fireplace behind her wasn't helping matters any, but it was the fire growing between her legs that was truly ferocious.

She felt the wetness dripping out from between her legs and onto Sebastien's lap, and she wondered if he could feel it, too. He had finally reached a dozen strokes and laid the paddle aside, trailing his hand between her legs. But of course he had felt it. How silly of her to question it. He patted and stroked her buttocks almost absent-mindedly while she struggled to control her tears. She wasn't sure if she was more aroused or more in pain.

"It hurts," she moaned softly.

"I know," he replied in a soothing voice. "Come, I shall find something for the pain." She curled up on her side in his lap, and he slid his arms underneath her to lift her as he stood. He carried her back into the bedroom and set her down onto the bed. She rubbed her thighs together briefly before he parted her legs, crawling between them and running his eyes up her body. Her stomach twisted in pleasure when she saw the look in his eyes, and then her head was thrown back, eyes squeezing shut as he began licking up her wetness.

In bare moments she had indeed nearly forgotten about the pain, as sharply focused as she was on the pleasure rapidly growing in her center. She grasped the sheets tightly between her fingers as her hips flexed to meet his tongue. Then it hit her and she moaned out softly as she came, running her fingers through his hair. He teased her a few moments longer with the tip of his tongue, and then stretched out beside her, his palm resting on her stomach.

She blinked vaguely at the ceiling, feeling exhaustion begin to cloud over her. Reaching out with her right arm, she grasped for something on the bedside table and dropped it onto his chest.

"Here. Hope you're free on Friday night." She turned and watched Sebastien, who looked down and smiled when he saw what she'd dropped on him. Tickets to the opera. "And, um, I hope you had a good birthday."

"Thank you, mon abeille. I can honestly say it was the best one I have had in a long time."

-----

Sebastien tapped his baton on his music stand, getting the attention of his orchestra and the soloists that had come for rehearsal that afternoon. It was for a concert that Claire was perhaps unreasonably excited about, one that she had suggested to Sebastien the previous year half-seriously and he took an interest in. She supposed the seed for the idea had been implanted in her brain for years, and it had first made itself known to Sebastien through her audition choices.

Two of the arias she'd chosen were from requiems, which might perhaps have been a bit unusual. She had been advised to choose brighter, sweeter pieces that would show off her young, girlish voice. It's not that she didn't like arias with light themes. It was more that they wouldn't fit who she was. When she heard a requiem for the first time, it captured her imagination more than anything she'd heard before. And when she'd heard another, and another, it was the same.

So early last year, before she had gotten in too deeply with Sebastien, she had mentioned offhandedly how amazing a concert made up of arias and instrumental requiem pieces would be. He had given her a sidelong glance, answering her before he could stifle his curiosity.

"It is interesting how fascinated with death you are, mon abeille," he had said.

"I think of it more as an interest in the human condition," she had replied, tossing her head. Still, he'd seemed quite attracted to this aspect of her. When he had decided on the final schedule for the year, he had casually mentioned that he had taken her suggestion, and she had been beside herself. She really couldn't wait to hear the whole thing come together, and the part she was perhaps most excited about was the one-to-a-part Maurice Duruflé Requiem. It is normally sung by a choir, but for this performance she would be joined by alto, tenor, bass, and baritone soloists.

It had been interesting being in rehearsals now that she and Sebastien were arguably in a relationship that was just...normal. There wasn't the same tension there had been before, but Claire was almost surprised to find that the excitement hadn't gone out of it. For one thing, she remembered that the thing she had initially been drawn to was the way that he conducted, and of course she still found it alluring.

But there was also a new excitement in it all. She was there on stage making music with the man she loved, and she had the most tantalizing anticipation of getting to touch him afterward. Of course, there was still the element of control. Sebastien was very definitely in charge here and it still gave her a thrill to follow his lead, to submit to his direction even though they were both aware she didn't have to.

She was generally much better behaved on stage these days, though. She rarely defied him simply for the sake of doing so. But when she had a legitimate concern, she no longer shied away from saying something, either. So rehearsals were more harmonious, but no less thrilling.

In rehearsal today, however, as in any rehearsal in which there were multiple choral parts of complex orchestration, Claire could not count on Sebastien's undivided attention. She wasn't upset about it -- I mean, how needy would that be, right? She sang her part when called upon, and sketched a little in her book when others were doing their parts. Mostly she thought about the night to come -- it was finally Friday and she was going to the opera with Sebastien. Actually, it would be her first time going to an opera at all and she was pretty excited about it.

The room had fallen silent around her, and she looked up to see several dozen pairs of eyes looking in her direction. She glanced up to Sebastien, saw him glaring exasperatedly at her, and realized that they had been waiting for her. Sebastien was watching her, probably wondering whether she had been ignoring him on purpose. Sadly no.

After rehearsal, Claire headed back to her dressing room, wondering if she had time to go for a run before changing into her evening clothes. But when she got there, all thoughts of exercise went out the window. Sebastien was already there, tapping his foot rhythmically on the carpeted floor. He glanced at her when she entered, and the look he gave her made her suddenly nervous.

"What are, um, what are you doing in here?" she asked.

"Mon abeille, would you like to tell me where your mind was during rehearsal?"

"Nooo, not really." Sebastien stepped over to her, reaching around her to close the door and tipping her chin up to look her in the eyes.

"But you will tell me."

"Oh," she said, huffing out an embarrassed breath, "I was just thinking about tonight. I'm excited, that's all."

He ran one finger down her cheek and asked in a low voice, "How excited are you?"

"I just don't know if I can contain myself," she replied, eyes bright.

"I am afraid you will have to try," he said, unbuttoning her shirt. "The others are still in the building."

-----

The room felt like it was spinning. Claire was flat on her back, blinking up at the lights around her dressing room mirror. An arm was curled possessively over her hips, and the man it was attached to was kissing her shoulder softly. She was still twitching when she tried -- and failed -- to sit up.

"What time is it?" she groaned.

"Nearly seven-thirty."

"Ohhh my gosh, how did it get so late?" She stood up, tottering a bit dizzily in her heels. "We have to go." She looked down, saw Sebastien grinning up at her. What was he looking at? Oh. Right. She was naked. In heels. Classy. "Shut up and help me get dressed," she grumbled.

-----

"Are you hungry?"

"Famished!" In their haste to get to the opera house, they had skipped dinner. The excitement of the show had kept Claire from feeling hungry but now that they were out in the cold night air, her stomach was growling.

"I know just the thing." Sebastien pulled out his cell phone and dialed. "Yes, Tom, I am just calling to say that we will get ourselves home tonight. Yes, yes. Fine. Good night." He grabbed Claire's hand and led her down the block, toward a staircase she had never noticed before.

"Where are we going?"

"Have you never been on the metro?"

"I, um, didn't actually know there was one here," she muttered. He smiled and shook his head, leading her down the stairs and onto the platform just as a train was rumbling up. He pulled her onto it and she saw that it was nearly empty this time of night. Even so, Sebastien did not sit in any of the orange plastic seats, choosing to lean casually against one of the metal poles instead. Standing there, he looked surprisingly at ease.

"How do you do that?" she asked him.

"Do what?"

"Look right at home no matter where you are."

"If you act like you belong, you will begin to believe it," he answered. Claire wondered at that; she still didn't feel comfortable in some of the fancy places he took her. She leaned against him, looking out the window at the unbroken dark of the underground tunnel. The lights in the train periodically flickered on and off, shutting off completely when the train suddenly burst out into the bright, moonlit night. It crested a hill, and in the distance Claire could see foamy waves crashing over the beach.

The train slowed to a stop, and then Sebastien was tugging her out into the street. Down the block and around the corner they went, and Claire realized they were deep in a residential neighborhood. A dozen tightly packed, brightly painted cottages made up each long block. Most had dark windows at this late hour, but a few held golden lights behind their curtains.

She glanced up at Sebastien, who was totally unperturbed, obviously clear about where he was going. He headed toward the last building on the block, one that was apparently not a residence. It had a small backlit sign with foreign characters of some kind printed above the door. Chinese, perhaps, or Vietnamese. She couldn't be sure. Sebastien pushed the door open, letting out a cloud of steam fragrant with fish sauce and frying oil. Definitely Vietnamese.