Chords that Bind Ch. 15

Cecilia replied with some resignation. "Yes Sir."

"Why the tone?"

"I- I- just. I'm not used to so much... such... attention."

James smiles. She was precious. He let her reservation go. "How about a glass of champagne?"

"That sounds lovely, actually."

"Good."

James stood to pour the champagne. He opened the bottle with a festive 'pop' and poured the bubbly.

With his back turned Cecilia drank in the defined lines of James shoulders and back. His legs and buttocks were similarly corded with lean muscle. When he turned back to her, his blue eyes sparkled and he gave her a smile. Not a single hair was out of place. He handed her a flute and climbed into bed.

"You make the toast."

Cecilia paused. She was on the spot and didn't know what to say.

"Hurry up before all the bubbles are gone, little one," James teased.

"Well, I suppose I'll toast to new beginnings and wonderful music."

James nodded his agreement. "I'll certainly drink to that. Huzzah."

The clinked glasses and held each other's eyes. The dry champagne flirted with their palates. After savoring it for a moment, James leaned back against the fluffy pillows.

"Tell me something."

"Like what?"

"What's running through your mind? I want to know what you're thinking."

Cecilia hesitated. "I suppose I'm just kind of happy. I still can't believe I'm here. With you."

"Cecilia, I've wanted you since the very beginning. It scares me how much I wanted you."

She still couldn't understand. "Why?"

"I felt an attraction to you that was physical at first. I'll admit you trip all my wires. And when your personality shines through, especially once you started recovering, I came to enjoy your observances and the way you enjoy the things and the people around you. I just want to know more. What made you decide to focus your studies on English literature?"

"You'll laugh." She sipped her champagne, knowing he wouldn't accept no for an answer. Her bottom throbbed as a reminder.

"I won't."

"It wasn't anything sophisticated or anything. I just liked reading. It helped me escape. When I was reading I wasn't dealing with my parents."

"Why would I laugh at that?"

"Because the books that were the best at helping me escape were all fantasy. Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings... My parents had no control over Hogwarts or Middle Earth... I know how nerdy that is."

"I definitely read Lord of the Rings multiple times." He smiled remembering how the iconic fantasies transported him as well. "I know what you're talking about. But I also had music. I would listen and play the Goldberg Variations nonstop. I wasn't on very good terms with my parents either," he finally admitted.

"Oh," Cecilia didn't know what to say to that.

James quickly changed the subject. "But what about after you started at university? What became your favorite then?"

"Well, I liked Dickens. And the Romantics became my area of special interest..."

James listened with rapt attention as Cecilia went on about some of her research and her favorite works. They spent the rest of the evening sipping champagne, trading affectionate touches and talking about their respective artistic passions. Before she nodded off, James took her flute and tucked her into bed, taking his time to pet and adore the beautiful woman whose submission had stolen his heart.

***

The next day was incredibly pleasant. They did join Emile and Carine for dinner after James's last performance in New York. Too soon, it was time to leave the Big Apple and make their way to Boston for the final stint of James's tour in America.

Cecilia stared at James's sleeping form in the seat next to her. He fell asleep holding her hand, and she feared she'd disturb his rest if she moved it. Truly, she didn't mind. Though she didn't think she'd ever get used to the casualness of James's affections. Every conversation or smile sent her heart skittering and her insides fluttering. He listened to her talk about her college studies as if what she had to say was legitimately interesting rather than frightfully dull.

It's all a dream. You're going to wake up and he won't want you. Besides, you've already debased yourself for him. He won't be interested in you for much longer.

The voice of Cecilia's mother was so nasty.

A different voice, one that was soft but determined shot back: If it is a dream then I intend to enjoy every moment so that I remember it when I wake up.

Cecilia kept a hold on James with her left hand and flicked through the recent pictures on her phone with the right. One was a glamorous shot of her drinking tea at the Plaza in the new ensemble James gifted her. Another of them in Philadelphia taken by a stranger in Rittenhouse Square. She flicked over to the photo taken at dinner last night: There she was with three world-class musicians. She didn't know how she would keep up with James's circle of friends and acquaintances. She would need to learn more about this world and the ins and outs of orchestras and concert halls. She wouldn't want to embarrass James. So far, everyone seemed so nice. Would James indulge her and show her more?

James was very different from what she thought he would be, even after coming to understand his vital role in rescuing her. He didn't stand on ceremony or expect her to act like a slave. Oddly, he seemed to think she had a lot to learn, but not in the ways she would have thought. If only he knew the extent to which she felt incompetent. Learning about music was only another item on the laundry list of things she needed to grasp, and quickly.

Despite her 'training,' her Sir seemed to think she needed retooling. She welcomed it. The idea of placing herself at his mercy, of learning the things he wanted and molding herself to become the object of his desires, well that was appealing. Maybe becoming his more completely would continue to push everything else into the periphery.

He treated her better than anyone else ever had, even though he repeatedly told her that she belonged to him. She wondered at his desire for a submissive, when it seemed he was happy to do normal things like go to dinner and take walks in the park. It confused her, his gentle affections. But when they were alone she felt her subconscious submission flame in response to his concentrated dominance. Some sort of change came over the both of them when he showed his other nature. She loved how everything faded into the background when he commanded her.

James's golden hair caught the sunlight streaming in through the window of their train. His eyelashes were thick and darker, almost a reddish blonde, Cecilia noticed. They stirred and James stretched out as best he could in the train's seat. He blinked a few times and squeezed Cecilia's hand. "Mmm... I dozed off there... What time is it?"

"It's 10:30, Sir."

James continued to get his bearings. He felt as if he woke in the middle of a dream. "And what've you been up to while I was such poor company?" He cast his eyes on Cecilia and felt better oriented.

"Nothing, Sir. Just looking out the window. Thinking."

"What about?"

That might have been the most frequent question James asked her. He always wanted to know what she was thinking. She knew better than to demure though. He always insisted, and never once did he make her feel trivial or naive.

"Well, about your friends Sir. They know so much about music. I'm afraid I'll embarrass you one day."

James felt awake now. "Why would you think that?"

"Because I don't know anything about your world beyond a few pieces I've heard you play. Everyone else seems so... entrenched in it. And I'm... I can't even read music."

It took serious effort not to turn away in shame as she admitted this failing.

James face fell. "What indication have I given you that you need to be an expert?"

"You haven't. But at some point—"

"At some point, you'll pick up more, and I'll share more with you. I'm not worried. You actually listen to music. If you want to know more, your ears will tell you. Or I will fill in the blanks on anything you want to know."

"But what if I get something wrong while we're around your friends?"

"Then they will keep their comments to themselves, or more than likely enjoy the fact that someone wants to explore it more. I doubt that with your beauty and quick wit anyone will even notice. How much did you know about dance before you shadowed Clara at the ballet?"

"Nothing. But, I—"

"No buts. I'm not asking you to give a dissertation on Shubert, let alone read music. No one else will either. Do you honestly like it?"

"I do Sir."

"Then that's enough."

"But there's so much for me to learn."

That was when James smiled. "I know. And it will be my singular pleasure to teach you." His voice was low and Cecilia felt her stomach flip at the promise his voice held.

***

"We're not going back to the hotel? Where are we going?"

"I fancied a late supper." James answered Cecilia's question.

"Oh." Cecilia tried not to let her disappointment show. James's Beethoven performance was once again masterful. But she didn't know he also was guest conducting the Eroica Symphony. To her, it made all the sense in the world that he would command all the other outstanding musicians. However, it did have the affect of arousing her body dramatically.

James gave a slightly obvious smirk. He suspected that Cecilia had her customary reaction to tonight's music. If he was honest, part of him did want to take her back up to their room and ravish her properly. But he also was hungry, and he suspected Cecilia would enjoy the meal.

The raw bar at Neptune Oyster was still open, if sparsely populated. It was something James was accustomed to with his late-night working hours. Again, they were over-dressed, but with so few people in the restaurant, Cecilia tried not to let her anxiousness show.

The raw bar was a bounty of salt-water delights. James had been a bit excited for this meal. Cecilia, on the other hand, looked at the reddish-orange octopus, spiny urchins, and rows of shellfish with suspicion.

"Have you ever had raw oysters?"

"I don't think so. Maybe?"

"You'd remember if you did. Everything here is superb. What would you like to try?"

Cecilia looked at him like he was asking a herculean task. "Shrimp?" It was best to stick with something safe and familiar.

James saw the dodge. "Sure. Would you try an oyster with me?"

"Okay." Cecilia said, not wanting to disappoint James who seemed so eager for her to try and like all these strange foods. So far, she'd liked everything he showed her, but still... some of the creatures still had their eyes...

James ordered some shrimp and several oysters and sea urchin and something he called crudo. "And may I have a bottle of muscadet and two glasses, please?"

The food came out in waves. As soon as the oysters were shucked, a dozen were presented with fresh cocktail sauce, lemon wedges, and fragrant mignonette.

"Here. I'll show you." James added a dollop of cocktail sauce to an oyster and proceeded to slurp the whole thing down in a single gulp. He closed his eyes for a moment and Cecilia had to wonder what it was like. Curiosity was winning out over her initial hesitance.

"Sorry. Those are bloody amazing. Eat an oyster and then have a sip of that wine." He indicated as he took a sip from his own glass.

Cecilia picked up the nubbly shell. She sniffed it first, but only smelled the ocean. Bringing the shell to her lips she detected salt. She closed her eyes, tipped the shell back and was shocked by how cold it was, until she took in the blast of briney sweetness and a hint of tartness from the lemon. It took her by surprise and she opened her eyes in amazement.

James always doubted the purported aphrodisiac qualities of oysters. But watching Cecilia's reaction to trying one was a heady turn-on all of its own. She swallowed her oyster and smiled. "Wait. Have the wine." James said before she could give her judgment.

Cecilia didn't know why James insisted on the wine, but she took a sip. Immediately, she understood. The tart wine revived all the flavors on her tongue and added a zip and brightness all its own. "That's amazing!"

James couldn't believe how much he adored the look on her face as she discovered new flavors, new pleasures. He would do anything to keep that expression on her angelic face.

Convinced that the delicacies coming from the raw bar weren't slimy monsters, Cecilia's curiosity piqued. "So what is that?" she pointed at the crudo.

"Raw tuna. It's basically sushi."

"I definitely haven't had that before."

"Then I insist you have the first taste."

A dozen oysters and a few glasses of the French white later, Cecilia and James left the raw bar hand in hand.

"Did you like everything?"

"I did! That was delicious. I had no idea it could taste that good. Thank you," she said with sincerity.

"See? I told you I'd show you. And not just music either. I must confess, I'm surprised you don't mind me sharing all of this with you."

"Mind? This has been the best week of my life! Really."

"Me too."

The ride back to their hotel wouldn't take long. On the way James considered the woman by his side. He enjoyed each facet of Cecilia's personality that was slowly eking its way to the surface. He wanted to take her out of her preconceived notions of herself, out of her anxiousness. He wanted to devour all the things that hid her beauty from the world and have her understand how he saw her. He didn't care how long it took. As long as she would have him—as long as the velvet band remained around her neck—he would dedicate himself to cultivating all the latent qualities she possessed. He was already enchanted with her. But her potential was just as intoxicating.

***

"Tonight is an exercise in boldness, Cecilia."

They'd just entered their hotel room. James turned and made this declaration after taking off his topcoat.

She didn't feel bold. She looked at him, already imploring him with her eyes, as if she could move him to pity her. She wasn't bold; she didn't know how to be bold.

"Seduce me." James commanded. It was an arrogant demand. Literally, everything about her seduced him. Like the innocent way she looked as if she misheard him. He was curious about what she'd do next.

Seduction wasn't in Cecilia's lexicon. She could barely flirt. Even speaking coherently to James seemed like a major feat, only recently mastered. Should she try to do a strip tease? Could she figure that out on-the-spot, right here, and have that work? Mostly she just wanted to get James's clothes off him.

Her indecision was so cute. He could practically hear her thinking, even if he couldn't quantify her thoughts. James sat in an armchair and watched her.

Cecilia wondered if he would take over if she waited long enough to make up her mind. She got her answer when he called roomservice for a bottle of wine and only one glass. His patience was maddening. She stood, wishing to melt into the floor when it arrived. She made to get the door, but James motioned her to stay and handled the bellhop. He didn't look angry, but he also didn't speak as he uncorked the bottle and poured himself a full-bodied red.

He settled in the armchair and sipped, considering her over the rim of the crystal stemware. He raised his eyebrow, nearly in a challenge.

Cecilia tried to summon up a devil-may-care attitude and walked slowly towards James's chair, trying to roll her hips and keep her feet in a single lane. The effect in her slinky new lavender dress was not unwelcome.

She leaned on one arm as she looked down at James, unbalanced by this seeming shift in dynamic. He wasn't taking control and it unsettled her. James stared up at her with his blue eyes, failing to give anything away. She inhaled deeply through her nose and initiated at deep kiss, nipping at his bottom lip and begging for more with her tongue. She trailed kisses across his cheek, noticing the stubble from his five o'clock shadow. She nuzzled her cheek against his, affectionately. She started to unbutton his shirt collar, pulling at his knightsbridge tie and cavalierly tossing it aside. She earned a small smile for that move.

But James didn't interfere. She thought he would—no, expected he would—take over. When he didn't, she wondered if she was doing this all wrong. She backed away and stepped out of her shoes. Then she turned around, showing off the criss-crossing straps that served to keep the backless dress on. She wiggled out of it, hoping he would enjoy the view of the dress falling away from her body.

Her hopes were answered, but she wouldn't see James nodding his encouragement, delighting in seeing Cecilia take initiative. He knew it was a tall order, to expect her to show her true boldness, but he still held the dominant role here, and once her independent boldness ran out, he would guide her to it, to a place where she could be bold simply because he asked it of her.

Cecilia's submissiveness led her to fall to her knees, presenting herself to James in just her panties, hoping he'd find her offering alluring.

Her idea of seduction amused him, but it was also primal. What man wouldn't be enraptured by a woman who placed herself at his mercy? She might not even understand her own seduction. Right now it seemed like she was begging him to resume the active role of dominant, instead of exerting that force quietly. James didn't mind. He preferred that role, but he wanted to see where Cecilia would take them if given the option. He was quite glad she seemed eager to be at his feet.

"Take your knickers off."

"Yes Sir." She was relieved he broke his silence.

She dropped her hands from behind her head and wiggled out of her panties. The arousal from the evening's performance at the Boston Symphony Hall had faded into the background over the course of the evening, but it crept back to the surface.

Cecilia stood nude. She thought she was very bold indeed for standing there as she was without clothes while James sat elegantly in his chair drinking wine.

"Come closer and kneel."

She instantly obeyed. She didn't have to be brave any longer.

"I appreciate you efforts."

Cecilia breathed a sigh of relief.

"But, I think you could be, perhaps, even bolder."

That made Cecilia worry again.

"I want a good view of you. I want to see your secretive charms. Present yourself to me."

Cecilia knew what he meant, but didn't know how to accomplish it. She was already in a revealing position.

"Go on."

Cecilia's only thought was that maybe she could press her chest forward, and so she arched her back accordingly.

"And now that tight little pussy. Show it to me proudly. Show me what's mine."

There was something hypnotic in his voice that bypassed all of Cecilia's mental faculties and triggered something less calculated.

She arched her back even further and raised her bottom off the ground. She spread her knees a few inches further apart, and leaned her head all the way back. Her hands clasped her ankles and her whole body arched in a bow. Her long hair brushed her calves and James felt his cock twitch at the provocative position Cecilia took on. He could have set a tray down on her upturned heart. It was as if she was serving herself on a platter in such a presentation.

Very well, Cecilia. You do know how to be bold. Your boldness is just packaged in something else, in your submission.

"Beautiful, Cecilia. Good girl."

Cecilia beamed, her eyes focused on the ceiling, pleased that her body cooperated and pleased James.

"Now, I want you to play with yourself."

James saw her taught muscles tense further. It seemed he found a sticking point. "Play with yourself, Cecilia," he repeated himself.