The Soprano Ch. 05


"You heard me."

"You are asking for trouble."

"What are you going to do about it?" Sebastien sighed, dropping back into his desk chair and flipping his score open again.

"Nothing," he said quietly, turning back to his work. Claire went to stand next to him, her smile dropping away. She threw her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek in another unprecedented show of affection. "Mon abeille, really..." he protested.

"Come on," she wheedled. "You know you want to."

"What do I want to do?"

"That...that thing...that you want to do."

"Right now what I want to do is work, and I want you to go away so that I can concentrate."

"I won't. And you can't make me." Sebastien's eyes fluttered shut, his lips pressed together in annoyance.

"Oh, I cannot?" he growled.

"No," she whispered triumphantly. He took one deep breath, then another, and finally took hold of her arms firmly. Moving them away from his neck, he pushed her back from him.

"Suit yourself," he said blandly, picking up his pen. What the hell? Obviously Sebastien was getting a whole lot better at controlling himself, which didn't do her a whole hell of a lot of good. By now her body was buzzing with anticipation and, yes, arousal.

"Damn it, Sebastien, all you do anymore is work!" she cried, sounding whiny and petulant and hating it. In a second, she saw his eyes flash with – what, guilt? – and then he was yanking her over his lap, bringing his palm down on her again and again. The stinging was immediate and warmth spread all over her body, lighting her up with pleasure so intense she wasn't sure she could stand it. She struggled reflexively, but his arm pressing down firmly on her back kept her in place while he spanked her.

His hand stilled after ten strokes, sliding over her buttocks gently. She whimpered a little beneath this new soft touch, inhaling sharply in surprise when he whisked her shorts down. He untied her bra top and slid it out from under her; she writhed, feeling the silk rubbing against her hard nipples. When she was naked on his lap, he spanked her again. Ten more strokes, until she knew her buttocks would be bright pink, and Sebastien caressed her again.

Then he pushed her up off his lap, grabbed up her bra top, and tied it firmly around her head, gagging her with the silk material. She took a shocked breath, relieved that she could, in fact, still breathe easily. Probably could talk, too, if she wanted to, but obviously he wanted her quiet. So quiet she would remain.

"You are very trying sometimes, Claire," he said, still sounding irritated. He took her wrist and dragged her over to the corner of the room, then slid his belt off. Pulling her wrists behind her back, he looped the belt around them and then around the lamp in the corner before fastening it tightly. He looked at her, finally giving her a little smile as she glared back at him. Sliding his hand between her thighs, she felt sparks of electric pleasure as his palm bumped against her.

She tried to push her hips back against him, feeling close to coming already as his fingers plumbed her tight wetness.

"Ahh,," he murmured, withdrawing his fingers. "I think not. Now, I do not know if you will be any less distracting all naked and aroused in the corner of my office, but at least you will be quiet. You will," he added warningly, "be quiet...?"

Claire nodded vigorously. Apparently satisfied, Sebastien returned to his work. For thirty minutes Claire stood as patiently as possible, very aware of her arousal dampening her inner thighs. In the absence of other thoughts, she imagined over and over what Sebastien might do to her when he finally untied her. She squeezed her thighs together unconsciously as she watched him work, thinking how amazingly sexy he looked when he concentrated.

She sighed wistfully watching his brow furrow, his fingers tunnel through his hair, his eyes narrow in absorption with his task. He must have heard her because he glanced at her suddenly, letting his eyes linger over her body. Seeing that she had captured his attention for the moment, Claire realized that her legs were getting a bit tired just standing there. So she slid down, very carefully, until her naked buttocks rested on the wood floor. Then, keeping eye contact with him, she spread her knees open, exposing herself to his view. He shook his head, amused.

"Always trouble, aren't you?" he said, half to himself. "Well, it is fine by me if you sit as long as you are quiet."

He turned back to his work, giving her occasional looks from the corner of his eye. At last, Claire was beginning to feel a little awkward with her legs akimbo, so she brought her knees back together until they bumped. That left her exposed still, but less so as she drew her heels up. She rested her cheek awkwardly on her knees, still watching him. He had become totally engrossed in his work again, and her heart twinged at the sight. Oh, she did love him.

At last Sebastien set down his pen and stretched his arms up and back. He rubbed his hand across his forehead and Claire noticed for the first time that he seemed rather...well, tired. Maybe stressed. Both were pretty unusual for him, coming to think of it, and she wanted to know what was bothering him even more. Of course, she couldn't ask while gagged with her own bra, and he probably wouldn't tell her anyway. After all this time, he still valued his privacy.

He came over and knelt beside her, loosening the belt and helping her to stand upright. Leading her over to the sofa, he motioned for her to sit back on it. When she had, he rubbed her shoulders absently, his mind elsewhere again. Claire leaned forward slightly, nuzzling into his shirt. She nudged it upward with her nose until she was able to slide her cheek along his stomach, feeling his soft hairs tickling her. His abdominal muscles tensed and rippled beneath her as he leaned down to kiss her tenderly.

"I could remove this," he said, running his finger along the wet silk in her mouth, "but I admit I rather like it. Do you mind?" Claire blushed, shaking her head shyly. It was almost freeing – actually, not almost. It was freeing to not have to verbalize her desires, just as bondage freed her from having to decide how to move her body, just as being with Sebastien in general could free her from making choices. When in the rest of her life she had so many choices to make, being able to let go and relax into submitting to him, this man she loved and trusted, gave her so much peace. It was no wonder she provoked him into it whenever she could.

He gently guided her hands up over her head and onto the back of the sofa, and she knew he wanted her to keep them there. Then he placed his hands on her ankles and spread them wide.

"Oh, mon abeille, the things I want to do to you..." He dipped his head down between her legs, tracing his tongue up her inner thighs and licking up the moisture there. Slowly he moved up, up, to the juncture of her thighs where his tongue was so welcome. She tried to keep her hips still as he teased her, but it was so difficult when he made her feel so good.

"I am going to make you come, Claire, on my tongue and my fingers." She blushed at his frank words, but he continued on. "And then I will fuck you until you scream, gag or no gag." She moaned softly when his fingers slid up inside her in one fluid motion, curling her toes under as he applied the flat of his tongue to her. He twisted his fingers inside her, rubbing against the most sensitive spots while he licked her rapidly.

She was so aroused it took her under a minute to come, letting out a choked groan around her gag as her hips lifted. Sebastien withdrew his fingers from her, sliding them languidly across her lips before sucking them into his own mouth. His hands were shaking as he undid his shirt buttons. When he had dispatched his clothes, he gave his hard cock a stroke or two, which thrilled Claire to no end before he plunged into her.

Pausing briefly, he untied her gag, tossing it over his shoulder as he leaned down to kiss her passionately. He nibbled her lower lip, licked along her tongue, and twisted his fingers in her hair until her body was alight with sensation. She was already so sensitive that her skin felt like it was on fire, and when Sebastien's mouth trailed down her neck she knew it wouldn't be long before she fulfilled his desire. His hands ran roughly up her body to cup her breasts, pulling gently on her nipples as her hips bucked beneath him.

Then he bit down on the nape of her neck and she was undone. She cried out into the room as she exploded around him, underneath him, letting go of the sofa to hold him close to her. His thrusts sped up and drove her up higher and higher until he, too, was coming, squeezing his eyes shut and willing the moment to last.

They were very still for a few seconds before Sebastien blew out a breath and maneuvered himself onto the couch beneath Claire. He pulled her down, her head resting on his chest, and rubbed the red marks on her cheeks with some embarrassment.

"I did not intend to mark you this morning," he muttered.

"It'll fade. Besides," she replied, "I like it when you mark me." She nuzzled his chest hair, smelling the faded scent of his cologne and beneath that, him. "Maybe you want to mark me somewhere else before we go to rehearsal today?"

"Do you never get enough?" he asked with his eyebrows raised.

"Nuh-uh, I don't think I do."


It wasn't until mid-February that the choral season begun again. Sebastien had chosen to push back the opener because of the ambitious program he had chosen – ambitious, that is, when rehearsals had to fit into the long winter break usually given the orchestra and local choirs. So insistent was he that this should be the season opener, both orchestra and choir had begun rehearsing for it even before their final concert in December. It was very unusual, but he was – as usual – quite persistent and very sure it would be a success.

What better way, after all, to begin a series of concerts on the theme of life than to begin with Joseph Haydn's 1798 masterpiece oratorio The Creation? Choirmaster Aaron wasn't so sure the choir could handle it, and there had been a bit of good-natured grumbling from the orchestra, but Claire wasn't bothered by it. She always studied her music during summer and winter breaks anyway, so it wasn't anything different for her.

Besides – and even more importantly – she was over the moon about performing the roles of the angel Gabriel and of Eve in the oratorio. Okay, so she was pretty much always excited about her parts considering how completely gorgeous they were. But even she could admit there was something special about the soprano aria in "No. 15," in which she sings about the creation of birds. And the choir parts, almost uniformly in major chords, just so joyous and beautiful – well, Claire agreed with Sebastien. Whatever the work required, it would be a smashing opening set.

Tonight was the night, finally the night. Claire had purchased a new dress especially for the concert: a long, pale yellow chiffon dress with a sweetheart neckline and subtle crystalline beading just underneath the bust. It tickled the tops of her feet and made her feel just like an angel. She put an extra curl into her hair and piled it neatly on top of her head, tugging out stray tendrils to brush her cheeks and the back of her neck. Just a little makeup, and a glance in the mirror surprised her – she looked so young. Her age, actually, and very sweet.

A knock on the door startled her and before she could ask who it was, the door opened. But no one came in. She turned and saw Sebastien in the doorway, his lips parted as he stared at her. A soft blush rose to her cheeks under his scrutiny and she gave him a little smile.

"Please, stay just as you are," he said softly. "I want to remember the way you look right now forever."

"Geez...take a picture, why don't you?"

"An even better idea," he replied solemnly. He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture, much to her surprise.

"So, you like my dress then?" she asked, picking up the skirt and twirling in a circle.

"Very much. But if I may ask, where are your shoes?"

"Oh, well, um...I...I couldn't really find any that I liked with the dress and I just thought that, well...Eve was barefoot in the Garden of Eden..."

"Eve," he said darkly, walking toward her slowly, "was also naked in the Garden of Eden." The door shut with a snap behind him and she shivered. He closed the distance between them in an instant, pressing her up against the wall and giving her ticklish nuzzles down her neck.

"Mmm I might not mind performing naked, but I didn't think you would like it."

"Indeed, I would find it very...tantalizing, but also very distracting. Incidentally, what are you wearing underneath your dress?"

"Perhaps I'll let you find out at intermission," she said, scooting away from him and toward the door. "Right now, I think it's show time."

Turning with a soft groan, he replied, "So it is. Well then, my angel, my Eve, lead on."

"Oh, what the hell," she muttered, pulling her dress all the way up so that he could see that she wore absolutely nothing underneath the layers of chiffon. Dropping the dress back into place, she giggled at his look of absolute shock as she opened the door and flitted away toward the auditorium. Oh yes, it was going to be a fun night.

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