He shook his head, still gazing at her. "No, leave them. I'll have my housekeeper take care of it in the morning."
Handing Maura her glass, he led her into the living room. There was a majestic grand piano, positioned to overlook the rest of the room. She gasped, and gesturing from him to the instrument, she asked, “Do you think I could- would you mind if I just…?” James chuckled, nodding with a smile. Reverently sitting down, running her fingers lightly over the aged ivory keys, she closed her eyes, playing the opening notes of Prelude in G Minor. "There was a piano like this when I was in Sixth Form, back home," she said. "We didn't have money for something like lessons, but the music teacher let me come in on my lunch hour. It was so beautiful... I wasn't sure I'd remember how to play." Her long fingers drifted over the keys, feeling the heat radiate from James as he sat down next to her on the narrow bench.
"You play beautifully," he assured.
"Do you play?" she asked, then felt foolish. "Of course you do, you have this amazing instrument-"
"It was my mother's," he interrupted. "I don't play. But it's the only thing I have left of her."
Maura looked at him for a moment and then looked back to the keys, trying to remember the next part of the music. She didn't want to hear this. She didn't want to know that James had a mother. That he loved her enough to keep her piano in a place of pride in his living room. She didn't want to know that he was a human being and not just a vicious businessman who dealt in death.
And then his huge hand took her chin between his fingers, gently lifting her face as his mouth dropped to hers.
Why does his mouth have to be so hot?she thought as James’s tongue slipped sinuously between her lips, running over the lower one with a tiny nip of teeth. The slightest sigh drifted from her mouth as his lips and tongue played with hers. He pulled back for a moment, searching her face. Maura's eyes stared into his, so close that she could see they were crystal blue, with a swirl of green.Why does he have to be so goddamned beautiful?she thought despairingly.
Then the words slipped out before she could think of something better. "This is not going to happen."
She slipped from the bench, grabbing her purse and heading for the door. Behind her, she could hear a growl of frustration from her boss and Maura walked faster. She struggled with the locks and then he was there, leaning against the wall and staring at her. Just as her shaking fingers opened the door, his fist came out and slammed it shut again. Grabbing her by her upper arms, James turned her swiftly and shoved her against the door.
"Kiss me," he hissed.
Maura allowed him to close his lips over hers, sucking and biting, running that diabolical tongue over hers.
He raised his head, looking down with an angry expression. "Say it. Say 'kiss me'."
"This is NOT going to happen!" Maura knew she sounded like an idiot, but her suddenly absent brain had nothing else to offer. His hand pressed against her throat, the thumb pushing her chin up again.
"Say. Kiss. Me." he insisted, pressing his hand harder against her throat. His long body pressed her harder into the door, heating her chilled skin, it was somehow comforting. And she wanted to. Maura suddenly, decisively wanted to kiss this tall, terrifying man, knowing that it was the worst possible thing she could do. But the feel of his calloused fingertips on her neck, the crispness of his cotton shirt against her bare arm, the way James seemed to completely enclose her- it was all weakening her resolve. He was all the things she shouldn’t want but in this moment especially, she did. Shewantedhim.
Her breath hitching, Maura whispered, "Kiss me." His mouth slammed down greedily over hers again, tongue slicing over lips and mouth, teeth biting down on her full lower lip. His hands were cupping her cheeks, thumbs sliding over her cheekbones as she felt a rumble of satisfaction vibrate in his chest, pressed against hers. She let out a weak exhale at the sound and he groaned, kissing her again.
He pulled back for a moment, his fingers sliding up into her hair, stroking it. "Say 'touch me’."
Maura shook her head wildly, long curls flying around her face. What the hell was she doing here? This wasn’t her. This wasn’t, but… there was some kind of relief, propped up against the door by the hard planes of his body, feeling weightless, like she’d finally set down something heavy after carrying it for the longest time. His hands slid up her arms, again, pulling her to him, then pushing her back against the door. One hand ran down to her left breast, squeezing it and stroking her nipple with his thumb. She leaned against him, the strength leaving her legs. His hand was so big that it covered her breast completely, his heated fingers slipping inside her dress and tightening against her as she involuntarily leaned into it. His fingers in her hair pulled her head back, giving him room to run the tip of his tongue along the thin skin of her throat. There was no damned reason this should be making her feel safe. She should have knocked James unconscious by now, an elbow viciously directed to his solar plexus. She should be running out the door. But he was surrounding her, enclosing her and for the first time she could remember when a man closed in on her like this, Maura didn’t want to lash out, she didn’t want to struggle.
As his mouth reached her ear, his voice was calm, authoritative this time, like he would be at the Corporation. "I told you. Say 'touch me'. Do it now." She made some kind of helpless noise, mouth open but unable to shape any words. She knew James wouldn't force her- if she could just remember how to say ‘no,’ he'd stop. She’d seen his distaste before when other, cruder men had bragged about their “conquests” at the Corporation. One lean thigh thrust between hers, roughly lifting his knee against her so that Maura went up on tiptoe. With her three-inch heels, she reached his nose, her wide, startled eyes nearly level to his. Both hands shoved into her hair, his long fingers locking around the thick curls. "Darling. I gave you an order. Say 'touch me, Sir.' I want to hear it. Now." He knew he had her when her eyelashes fluttered.
"Touch- touch me, Sir," Maura whispered.
And he said, "Very well."
***
If later, she'd been interrogated on what happened then, she could never have given a coherent response. All Maura knew was that she was flat on her back in his huge and comfortable bed, dress torn off, shoes thrown somewhere, and currently, her boss was pulling her lacy black undies down her thighs. "I've been thinking about all your contradictions, lovely girl." His tone was conversational; she was desperately trying to pay attention. The feel of his calloused hands running over her legs made it hard to focus.
"Such a dowdy little thing at work, hiding in your huge clothes and fake glasses." She froze as he chuckled. "And that video of you in your tights and sports bra, throwing that gigantic fellow over your shoulder..." He could feel her heartbeat speed up, her breathing trying to control her panic.
"Then, there's that one delectable element. How you respond when you say... Sir." He whispered into her ear in his poisonous, sibilant way. James grinned against her neck as he heard her breath hitch. "Ah, darling. I do so enjoy that sound." He bit sharply into her neck, savoring her gasp. "I think I'd like to hear you say it for me. Say it, Maura. Say, ‘Sir’ for me."
James rose over her on the bed, pulling off his shirt. He was beautifully sculpted, muscles flexing and moving under smooth skin as his trousers came off next. "I've told you what to do, my angel," he urged. "All you have to do is say..." he kissed her wrist, the inside of her elbow, “...is say, 'Sir.’ Won't that feel so much better, my sweet girl?" She could feel the thick length of him pressing against her, the heat of his hard body soothing her. Her green eyes were watering as he rubbed against her, slowly, tauntingly. He smiled when he saw the tears balancing in her eyes, crystalline, just ready to fall. "Oh, darling," he comforted, "you don't have to cry. I can make you feel so much better." He licked gently up the bite marks he'd placed on her. "Say ‘Sir’. Come now, say it."
Maura angrily shook her head, trying to remember why this was a terrible idea, “Why? Why do you have to have that from me?" What was worse, she thought bitterly, is that she wanted to say it. She desperately wanted to say it. If she could just agree, call him Sir, she wouldn’t have to think anymore. For once, she could just let go.
Growling, he ripped his belt free from his discarded trousers. Swiftly wrapping it around her wrists and then the bedpost, he pushed harder into her sensitive pelvis. Moving his mouth to her ear, he gritted his teeth, barely holding on to his patience. "You will do as I say, Maura. You are mine. In every way I can own you. Say. It." Her breasts pushed against his chest as she tried to regain her breath. His low chuckle was sin, “Be my good girl.”
"SIR!" she wailed, no longer able to keep a stable thought in her head, "Please, Sir. Please touch me and- and- I want- Sir, please..." Maura gasped as she felt his thick cock start working its way into her. It hurt her, it burned, but she couldn't stop her hips from rising upwards, desperately seeking more of him, needing the stretch and the pressure of him over her, still mindlessly pulling against the belt anchoring her to his bed.
***
