The Soprano

By Grace P. Morgan

Claire has finally confessed her love for the notoriously reserved Sebastien, and is elated to find that he loves her too. After a year of working together, soprano and conductor have perfected the art of making music together both on and offstage—even if Claire constantly challenges Sebastien’s authority. But things are more complicated than they seem. They must keep their relationship a secret, and Claire wonders whether she is ready to settle down. Even worse, she begins to suspect that Sebastien is hiding something from her. Can their relationship survive the secrets, the lies—and an old flame coming to town? (~91,000 words)

This is a work of erotic fiction, intended for adult audiences only. It contains sexually explicit content. [bdsm, mmf]

• Language: English
• Publisher: sea hag books
• Release date: Aug 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005485382

Book preview

Movement One

ALLEGRO

Bzzt bzzt. A faint vibration awoke Claire, and she blinked sleepily in the early morning light. She took a moment to wonder why in the hell she had set her phone alarm for such an early hour, but rolling slowly onto her back she suddenly remembered. The soft ropes Sebastien had used to tie her hands to the headboard the night before were still there. It had taken some effort to distract the fastidiously neat man enough for him to leave them there rather than coiling them up neatly in their drawer.

She had been planning this for ages, researching and reading and doing practice knots on herself. The opportune moment had finally arrived, and on a very good day indeed. It wasn’t often these days that she was able to surprise her boyfriend—boyfriend, she thought to herself with a sudden burst of warmth. Sebastien was her boyfriend now.

He was always the one in charge, by mutual agreement. Yes, she enjoyed it immensely, but it always amused her to find little ways of turning the tables on him. It made things more interesting. She hoped he would find it entertaining to be the one tied up for a change, even if she was signing herself up for punishment sometime in the future. Which, she thought philosophically as she picked up the rope, was really all part of the fun.

Kneeling over him and trying to be quick, she looped the ropes around his wrists. She gently repositioned his arms above his head and tied small, tight knots to keep him firmly anchored. At one point he stirred restlessly and she thought he might wake, but he stilled again almost at once. When she had finished her knots, she sat back to admire her handiwork.

Her dark and dangerous man was fast asleep and tied to the bed. She took a moment to enjoy the view—his handsome face at rest, his slim frame and sleek musculature—and imagined how furious he would be when he awoke to find himself restrained. She knelt between his legs and ran a fingertip down his velvety soft skin before taking him into her mouth. He sighed softly above her head, but didn’t quite wake.

She would know it when he did. For now she simply focused on the sensations in her mouth as he filled it, slowly hardening until he was firm as iron. He trembled now against her tongue, which she ran up firmly over the tip of him as she gripped him. At once she felt tension fill his limbs, and although she did not stop the movements of her mouth, she smiled around him.

Claire.

She looked up at him, sliding her mouth so slowly up, up, until she rested her lips just on the tip of him. He was glaring at her now and she was struck by how sexy he was. All his taut stomach muscles quivering as she stroked him, the scowl on his face even as his leg slid outward to give her more room. She crawled up the bed toward him, straddling him and enjoying the way he had to tilt his head up to look at her.

Claire, he warned softly, if you do not untie me immediately, you will regret it. I promise you.

We’ll see, she said sweetly.

Bending down, she gave him a long, deep kiss that had his body curving up to meet hers. He pulled at the ropes that bound his arms and growled low in his throat. She imagined he was itching to wrap his arms around her, pull her close, and fuck the living daylights out of her.

But that wasn’t his privilege this morning. She slid her hips back and down onto him, making him groan as he sank into her heat. Her hips rocked back and forth and she dug her fingernails into his stomach, making him wince even as he lifted his hips to drive deeper into her. She ground her hips down against him and gasped as her orgasm burst over her, and then just sat for a moment, watching him.

Let me up now, he ordered.

Now, Sebastien, she said, relishing the sound of his name in her mouth while he could do nothing about it, I’m going to have to ask you to stop talking. Although it’s pretty hot when you’re threatening me, it’s kind of blowing this, so unless you want your mouth taped shut….

She smiled as he scowled, but he didn’t say anything more. She kissed him again and then worked her mouth down his neck. He pulsed inside of her when she ran her tongue and teeth lightly over his nipples, and groaned softly when she rose up off of him to retrieve a small bottle from the nightstand.

Sebastien narrowed his eyes when he saw it, but still said nothing. Claire knelt between his legs and ran her hand over him again, more to tease than to please. With her mouth she moved down, down, down, until he squirmed as if to get away from her. But they both knew he couldn’t. She nipped lightly on the fleshy part of his ass before coming back up on her knees to watch the expressions passing over his face as she stroked him softly.

Claire, please, he said, sounding a bit strained.

I think you know what I want, she said. Sebastien merely grunted noncommittally. She watched him carefully and guessed the truth. Have you never done this before?

He still didn’t answer, but this time she didn’t think it was because she had asked him not to speak. She supposed it shouldn’t have surprised her. Sebastien had invited his oldest and best friend René into bed with them a number of times, but the shoe had always been quite firmly on the other foot. Claire bit her lip and popped the cap on the little bottle.

It would please me very much, she said, giving him a meaningful look. There was a long, silent pause as she poured some of the thick, slippery liquid onto her fingertips and rubbed them together. She looked steadily at Sebastien, who just lifted his gaze to the ceiling. It was difficult to tell—the man was a champion at hiding his thoughts—but Claire thought he might be slightly embarrassed.

As you please, then, he said, quietly.

His desire had flagged somewhat as they spoke, and Claire appreciated the opportunity to rev him back up using lips and tongue. Sebastien’s eyes closed as he sighed, relaxing into it. But when her fingers grazed him lightly, he tensed beneath her. Determined to please him, she kept her movements slow and gentle as she slid one finger into him.

He relaxed again, minutely, and she worked him over with her mouth as she found her rhythm both inside and around him. Soon his breathing was ragged and she couldn’t remember the last time he had been so hot, so hard, practically vibrating with need. She felt a thrill shiver through her as he let out a long, low groan and then cursed as he spilled into her mouth.

Claire drank him down, extremely pleased with herself. She pressed kisses into his still-firm, damp skin, nuzzling him as he softened. Then, as if a switch had flipped, she assumed a more submissive posture, watching him from beneath her lashes. She kissed him on his firm inner thighs, over his stomach still moving rapidly with his breath, over his chest, his neck. He was watching her through slitted eyelids, momentarily sated but obviously still annoyed. She cuddled up against him and kissed his cheek, repeatedly, until she thought he might smile despite himself.

You are only prolonging the inevitable, he said darkly.

See, talk like that is only scaring me out of untying you, she said, scooting away from him and pulling on clothes. He rolled his eyes and blew out a sharp breath.

"Mon abeille, if you please?"

Her heart thudded rapidly as she leaned over to undo the knots around his wrists. It was true, she did have to do it sometime, only she wished she didn’t have to be within reach to do it. The first hand she untied crept down to caress her thigh, and when Sebastien reached for her with both arms she allowed herself to be pulled into an embrace.

He held her tight, kissing her and gently caressing her lower back. Before she even realized what he was doing he had pinned her against him and was yanking down her pants. He gave her several punishing spanks as she struggled in his arms.

Hey! she yelped. Stop it!

Sebastien got in two more smacks before Claire was able to wriggle out of his arms and launch herself off the bed, pulling her pants back up.

I’ll just go make you some coffee, Maestro, she said, edging out of the room. She dashed down the stairs, wondering if it would be safer to try to barricade herself in the other bedroom for a while or if, knowing that he would certainly not forget, she should just go make the damn coffee. But before she could decide, he snuck up behind her and whipped her around to face him.

She had expected him to still be acting furious, but he was actually smiling as he bent down to kiss her. He pulled her down onto the floor and into his lap, sliding his hands up beneath her shirt to squeeze her breasts, running his palms over the hard points of her nipples. Then he pinched them, pulling firmly until she twisted away from him, crying out.

You know, he murmured against her cheek, I must punish you.

I expected nothing less, she said.

But, he added, pulling up her shirt and burying his face between her breasts, perhaps it could wait until later.

He ran his tongue up over her, circling her nipple before biting down on it. Claire felt sparks of pleasure running straight to her core and whimpered softly. Sebastien flicked his tongue rapidly over the nipple he had captured between his teeth, and then switched to her other breast. She whimpered as he slid his hand into her pants and dipped his fingers into her.

I want you, he said.

Claire pulled away from him and knelt, offering herself to him. Like this? she panted.

Oh yes, he said, yanking her pants down again. Punishment later. He gripped her hips, digging his nails into her flesh as he thrust into her. She shuddered, moaning helplessly as he pounded into her. Her palms and knees rasped against the carpet and she cried out when he gave her ass a sharp slap.

A knock came at the door.

Come back later, Sebastien said. We are busy.

So I can hear, came a dry voice from the other side of the door.

Door’s open, Claire said, between moans, and then gasped as Sebastien gave her another sudden whack on the ass. The door opened, framing a tall man with sun-kissed hair in the doorway. He closed the door behind him, his lips twitching in amusement as he took them in—his best friend, and his best friend’s lover, who was looking at him hungrily. Come here, she said.

René knelt obligingly in front of her and cradled her face in his hands, kissing her deeply. Her fingers fumbled with the button on his jeans as their tongues tangled together. She finally managed to undo the button, but couldn’t pull down his zipper one-handed.

A little help, she said breathlessly. Sebastien, predictably, was no real help, slowing his pace only slightly. René pushed down his jeans, already hard when he bumped against Claire’s shoulder. She slicked him up with her tongue and then raked her teeth very gently down his firm length. She gripped him and moved her tongue down, searching elsewhere. René moaned appreciatively as he throbbed in her hand.

"Mon ami, you have been teaching her some new tricks."

I did not teach her this one, Sebastien muttered.

I suppose not, René laughed, but she practiced on you, did she?

You could say that.

Both of you shut up, Claire said, earning her another slap from Sebastien. But René obeyed, only groaning softly when she resumed tonguing him. He moved his hips subtly, pushing himself into her hand.

I want to be inside you, he said.

I want, she replied with a smirk, "to be inside you." Her fingers slid easily inside him and he closed his eyes in pleasure. She took him back into her mouth, rolling her eyes up to watch his face as she did.

Now Sebastien had found his rhythm and he fucked her fast. Claire gasped when he reached beneath and flattened his palm against her, massaging her in quick, firm circles. She came hard, her fingers curling reflexively. Sebastien kept petting her, urging her on until she contracted around him once more, crying out around René, almost sobbing with pleasure. Only then did Sebastien let himself go, René following him over the edge.

2

The sun was high in the sky and the breakfast dishes in the sink as Claire lounged on the sofa, her feet in René’s lap. She felt absurdly spoiled, having been thoroughly fucked and fed by two gorgeous men. Sebastien had showered and dressed, and stopped to give Claire a kiss on the cheek as he pulled on his overcoat.

"Mon abeille, I must be off to rehearsal."

Oh, but—

You know I cannot skip it today. I will see you tonight, yes?

Of course. We have plans, remember?

How could I remember, when I do not know what they are? he teased, tapping her on the nose. He patted René affectionately on the shoulder, and left.

Okay, Claire said, now we can talk about tonight. You remember what I told you I had planned?

Yes, but… You must be joking, smiled René.

I’m not. She frowned at him.

"But chérie, you told me yourself that you cannot cook."

That’s what makes it such a good surprise, she sniffed. I need your help, though, because I don’t know what to make.

What about a salad? he suggested with a grin.

That’s mean, she said sulkily.

Yes, yes, very well. Here is my suggestion: roast a chicken with some vegetables alongside. To start, perhaps a soup? Squash is in season and it makes a lovely soup.

What about dessert?

Buy it, of course. Something simple. Or, he added with a smile, be it.

Claire rolled her eyes. Okay, that doesn’t sound too hard.

Would you like me to—

I want to do it myself, she said firmly.

Of course, and you will, he assured her. But there is no shame in having a little help. I can stay and make sure all goes well, if you like.

You’d do that for me?

Of course. It is no trouble, and I will be gone before Sebastien returns.

You are the best! she said, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. Let’s go shopping. Now, when you say squash…

He was late. The clock was ticking too loudly on the wall, and Sebastien looked irritably into his cup of coffee. Of course, he would be late. Sebastien was at a café at eleven o’clock in the morning to meet an acquaintance—someone he had known long ago who was now on the board of directors for one of the country’s largest symphonies. He had made a guess as to why his old friend wanted to meet with him but he supposed he should listen anyway.

At last an anxious-looking man entered the café, carrying a briefcase. He was of average height, with jet-black hair combed carefully over his balding pate, and he wore an olive-green tweed suit. When he spotted Sebastien he made his way over to the table without ordering anything at the counter.

Maestro, I’m glad you could see me.

Leonard, it has been a long time.

Too long, the man replied perfunctorily. I’d like to get straight to the point. Ken is retiring. We’re looking for a new conductor and your name came up. A lot of us on the board respect the work you’ve done here. He stopped abruptly and seemed to have no intention of saying more.

So you are asking me to throw my hat into the ring, is that it?

Well, yes. I thought you’d be pleased.

Pleased. Sebastien thought about this for a moment. Why shouldn’t he be pleased? A personal visit from someone familiar with the hiring committee, the chance to work for a larger symphony with a larger budget in what was arguably a very nice location—it was a shorter flight to Paris, in any case. But to move right now, even at the end of the current season…

I am not displeased, he said carefully. I do not deny it would be a magnificent opportunity.

Mmm. Perhaps this isn’t a good time for you? You would no doubt prefer to break in your new soprano thoroughly before handing her off to someone else. You always did like to make your mark.

Break her in. If only he knew, Sebastien thought with a thin smile, although he didn’t appreciate the way Leonard had compared Claire to a horse, or a shoe. And it occurred to him that the remark was far too barbed, too pointed not to be hinting at something else. Surely the rumors had not gone so far.

But this was his old enemy as well as his old friend, the man with whom he’d had a surprisingly contentious rivalry in graduate school. It would certainly not be beneath Leonard to taunt him in the hopes of getting him to reveal the truth about whatever they had heard about Claire.

Claire can handle herself, he said. She is a professional.

I’m sure she is. Quite attractive, too.

Anyone who thinks that her appearance factored into my decision to hire her must not think very much of my judgment, Sebastien said icily, nor does it have any bearing whatsoever on her talent, which happens to be tremendous.

He fixed Leonard with a haughty scowl, aggravated to have his judgment questioned and his soprano demeaned, especially by self-important pissants with old grudges.

Of course, Leonard murmured. You have changed more than I anticipated. I had thought that you would jump in feet first. You used to be so ambitious, even careless in how you achieved your goals.

I have always cared, Sebastien said shortly. I am no longer twenty, Leonard. Neither of us are children. We have both changed, I am sure.

Of course, Leonard said again, checking his watch. Well. The board is meeting with prospective candidates next month, an informal mixer to get acquainted. Will I see you there?

Sebastien sighed inwardly. It was a good opportunity. Perhaps the best opportunity he would have in the next decade. But he had been here for so many years, and he had come to see the city as his home. Even with Claire out of the picture he was not convinced that he would have jumped at the chance. He was really rather happy where he was.

But, of course, there was also Claire to consider. There could be no question of bringing her along professionally—not at once, certainly. So it would mean a separation. He could never ask her to resign her position. It would be a delicate situation if he were to be offered the position. But how could he turn down the opportunity to show them all—show Leonard—show himself that he could still be competitive on the national stage?

One should never let one’s talents slip because of one’s success, and the auditioning process would be a good tune-up for him, he told himself. And if he did get offered the position, which was by no means a guarantee, well, he would think about it then. So. Would Leonard see him at the exploratory mixer? That was the question.

You will.

Steam fogged the mirror in Sebastien’s bathroom, and Claire wiped it away to examine herself critically. Her hair was wet and slicked back from her face, leaving it bare. She squeezed her hair gently in a towel, drawing out the extra moisture, and then ran her fingers through it to loosen the waves. Applying a curl-enhancing serum, she directed just-warm air over it through a diffuser, and scrunched it again with her fingers. It was soft and full and bounced lightly around her shoulders.

She looked down her naked body, poked herself here and there, and smiled. She could always stay naked. Sebastien would probably be amused by that. But then, she thought, she wouldn’t be able to wear her new things. Turning to the door where her new clothes hung, she pulled a silk slip of fabric off of one hanger. It was a romper, with ivory lace cups giving way to light blue silk that skimmed over her tummy and ended in little shorts trimmed with more lace over her upper thighs. Then she pulled on her crinoline—one of a very soft chiffon in a light blue color to match her romper.

Then the dress: black, pinstriped silk with a tucked waistline and straps that pushed her breasts up and together. It came to her knees, letting her crinoline peek out from underneath, and it made her feel incredibly sexy. She added a necklace of small pearls that rested just above her collarbone, slicked on siren red lipstick, and piled her hair on top of her head, checking the pins to be sure they were secure.

Twirling around, she was pleased to see her skirt swishing around her legs. She regarded herself critically once more in the mirror and pronounced herself good to go. First, she had to put the finishing touches on dinner. She went down into the dining room and started setting out candles.

Claire, are you still here? Sebastien called out as he entered the apartment. For the first time he honestly wasn’t sure if he was hoping she was still there or not, a feeling he berated himself for immediately. It wasn’t her fault. The meeting that morning had made him uneasy and he’d been unable to think of much else all day.

Surely he should tell Claire about the invitation and his intention to apply. But… It was only an exploratory mixer, and his desire for the position itself was still very much in question. There was no need to worry her, he decided—and she would worry, no doubt about that.

I’m in here, she replied, from the direction of the kitchen.

It smells good. Have you been cooking? he teased as he hung up his overcoat. He headed toward the back of his apartment where the small dining room was, and stopped in his tracks when he saw it. All his other thoughts evaporated in an instant.

Claire had drawn the curtains closed and lit a dozen candles, filling the room with a soft glow. Then he saw her, in her black dress and pearls, barefoot and alluring. He felt his heart speeding up and dragged his eyes back up to her face as she answered the question he’d forgotten he’d asked.

As a matter of fact, I have. She was really enjoying the surprised silence. I hope you’re hungry. She motioned to the table, which was already set and ready for him.

Sebastien swallowed and moved forward to take her into his arms. I am, though perhaps not for food, he said, kissing down her neck and over her collarbone, to the tops of her breasts.

Ahh… She pulled away from him, smiling teasingly. Those are for dessert, she said, with mock seriousness. Sebastien slid his hands up to cup her breasts and kissed a line up the other side of her neck.

Have you never eaten dessert before dinner? he murmured into her ear.

No, she said, trying to be firm although a blush was creeping into her cheeks, and neither will you. You can wait a half hour.

She felt her heart skip a beat when he groaned softly in disappointment, biting down gently on her earlobe. She couldn’t remember the last time he had been so eager to get her into bed.

Please, she said. Dinner will get cold.

Sebastien wanted to argue, a bit, but he looked over at the table and smiled down at her. She really had gone to quite a lot of trouble for someone who was completely hopeless in the kitchen. He pulled out one of the chairs for her, and then sat down across the table from her. He looked down into the bowl in front of him, studying the orange soup with raised brows.

"Mon abeille, I cannot believe… You made this yourself?"

Yes, and you don’t have to look so nervous about it, she answered a bit irritably. It won’t kill you.

Well, you can hardly blame me for being a bit apprehensive, he teased, dipping his spoon into the bowl and raising it to his mouth.

Claire tried not to stare at him, but it was difficult. Of course she had already tried it and knew it was edible but it was important that he liked it. She had made it carefully under René’s direction, a silky smooth mixture of butternut squash, garlic, and sage.

Sebastien smiled over at her. It is very good.

Really?

Really. You can stop worrying and eat, he said, looking amused. She frowned at him, but started to eat. When they were done, she took up both bowls and went into the kitchen to put them into the sink. Sebastien followed her, resting his hands on her waist and nuzzling the back of her neck.

Well, aren’t you just in a mood tonight? She asked.

"I am impressed, mon abeille. And flattered, he said softly, that you went to so much trouble for me."

You’re worth it, she replied with a smile. I do have one little problem, she admitted, picking up the carving knife René had set out for her. I don’t actually know how to carve a chicken.

3

The dinner dishes were forgotten on the table, the candles blown out and smoking lightly into the air when Sebastien pressed Claire up against his bookshelf, ravishing her mouth. His hands roamed her body, but she pushed them away every time he tried to slide them up underneath her skirt. They kissed until they were out of breath, and then Claire broke away to head upstairs.

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 quite intimately as he kissed her neck. He bit down onto it firmly and made her moan. Claire shivered with pleasure, holding him tightly to her for a moment before remembering that she’d been on her way upstairs.

She slid out from beneath him and had made it up the stairs before