Sin and Discipline

by Lily White

  “She’s fine,” I assured her. “We were just discussing her performance of Scarlatti’s Sonata.”

  Julia’s face brightened, pride in Amelia shining through to replace the concern that had been there just seconds before.

  “Oh, isn’t she amazing on that piece? She knew it before beginning her studies under me.” Turning to Amelia, she asked, “It was your dad who taught you that one, wasn’t it?”

  From where I stood, I could feel the nervous energy of Amelia’s body, waves crashing against me as if I were the jagged rocks of a battered shore. “Yes. He wouldn’t let me stop until I’d memorized the entire piece.”

  Back to me, Julia asked, “Has she told you who her parents are?”

  My fingers curled against my palms.

  Not anger.

  Frustration.

  “She has. As the daughter of two symphony performers, she represents her family line well. I’m not surprised to hear her accomplished style and technique.”

  Go the fuck away... Repetitive, that thought, my desire to chase this woman from the room overbearing.

  Shifting her posture, Julia smiled. “She does. It’s a shame her brother didn’t follow in the family’s musical footsteps as well.”

  Amelia tensed beside me at the mention of her brother. I found the reaction interesting, suddenly wanting to continue this conversation.

  A brother. I never knew she had one.

  Turning to study the woman at my right, I grinned. “I didn’t know you have a brother.”

  Her throat worked again, a slow ripple as she refused to meet my stare.

  “Oh, yes. Ben is twelve years older than Amelia, and their mother just didn’t know what to do with him. But you know how it is. Some people have music inside them while others have other talents. From what I remember Lila telling me, Ben was more into sports. Isn’t that right, Amelia?”

  Twelve years older...meaning this mysterious Ben was the same age as my sister. Son of Lila and James. A boy who would have been in the house while Emaline was there for her lessons. A man who now had access to Amelia.

  “Yes,” Amelia finally answered, her voice a touch too soft. “Ben was on the track team in high school, much like me.”

  Remembering how fast the son of a bitch had run from me in that alley, the pieces were falling together quite nicely.

  Ben. Perhaps this was the name Amelia had refused to give me last night.

  “Yes, our Amelia is quite talented in many areas.” Julia paused, her eyes bouncing between us. “Shouldn’t class have ended an hour ago?”

  “I was late,” Amelia admitted, the quick response drawing Julia’s attention. “Lenn- Mr. Carter was doing private evaluations today and I was supposed to be here at 4:15, but I fell asleep waiting in the parking lot.”

  “Ah, well, that explains it.” Her laugh was forced, her expression disbelieving. “I’ll let you get back to it then.”

  Shrewd eyes hard on me, Julia said, “I hope you’ve now learned how valuable Amelia would be to Hastings. Try not to ruin her.”

  Whatever the hell that meant.

  “You two have a good night.”

  With that, she turned to walk from the room, her low heels against the floor echoing in her wake as she disappeared down the hall. Amelia and I stood motionless, so many unspoken thoughts running through each of our minds.

  She was the first to dare disturb the silence. “Will you?”

  Two words. Simple. Yet loaded with a million possibilities.

  “Will I what?”

  “Ruin me?”

  Exhaling slowly, I closed my eyes, my hands fisting tighter. Would I? Despite it all, I thought I might.

  Nothing good could come of acting on what I wanted, yet my willpower to remain distant was slowly shredding apart.

  “I will.”

  Amelia’s body winced next to mine, our bodies so close, yet not touching.

  “How can I improve my performance?”

  The question caught me off guard, my head turning to see she still looked forward, her eyes locked on the doorway where Julia had stood.

  Shaking my head, I was reminded of my role. I had to clear my throat to answer. “You hit every note, however the tone was lost in parts where you played too fast, punched the keys too hard.”

  “Show me.”

  My gaze tracked across the floor, over my shoes. Could I listen to her play again without losing the ability to stay away?

  “Sit down on the bench. Run through the first twenty measures.”

  Amelia did as she was told without question, her hands moving to the keys, fingers quick, wrists agile.

  “Stop.”

  I wasn’t sure why I needed her to quit playing that particular song. There was nothing wrong with it, the composition precise for a player of her skill, but it was rubbing against me in the wrong way.

  My curiosity got the best of me.

  “Forget Scarlatti. Play the piece that speaks to you the most.”

  She paused, fingers stroking the keys softly, unsure. Behind her, I stood motionless, our heat mingling, the fabric of my pants brushing softly against the back of her shirt.

  The first notes clapped through the room with the violence of a lightning storm. Chaos vibrating from the strings. The hammers pounding wildly in response to Amelia’s rage on the keys.

  I recognized the piece. Stravinsky’s Firebird, a composition of notes, scales, and chords that made no sense from one measure to the next, but somehow fit together perfectly.

  This wasn’t romance that pulsed through a room built for sound; it was pain, pure and undisguised. It was violence weaved within moments of ecstasy. It was a song I would have chosen myself.

  A lonely soul screaming at the sky, a whisper responding with the promise that the heart will heal once you discover another person who has also been destroyed.

  Amelia knew destruction, her soul screaming, and I was the whisper that welcomed her home.

  “Stop.”

  Her hands stilled, the last chords resonating over both of us, the room refusing to relinquish the sound of discord and fury that had opened her up to reveal the scars on her soul.

  “Stand up.”

  I had to know, had to see, had to toss aside every internal warning and find out if she could be taught to obey.

  The legs of the wooden bench scraped against the floor when she did as she was told. My heart beat a strong, steady pulse. My thoughts erratic.

  I should have walked away. Should have shut this down. Should have thought before acting. But still, her song played inside me, chaos erupting, a pain so enchanting that it mirrored my own.

  Sometimes you don’t need to know the cause of what decimates another person to understand, to taste, to experience and recognize that the same destruction exists within yourself.

  “Turn around.”

  Silently, she spun to face me, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted with the rasp of her breath.

  Only the bench prevented us from being chest to chest. A small piece of furniture that was my last reminder that what was happening between us should go no further.

  I shoved it out of the way, stepped close, her ass pressing against the keys of the piano when she stepped back out of instinct.

  Her eyes widened in the instant she knew she was cornered.

  On a rasp of breath, “Mr. Carter-“

  Rolling my neck over my tense shoulders, I met her eyes and begged, “Tell me to stop.”

  Not that it would matter. Not that anything she could say would bring me to heel.

  Eyes flicking over my shoulder, she answered, “The door is wide open.”

  That didn’t fucking matter. Nobody was in the building, the distance so damn quiet I would have heard a pin drop. That also wasn’t Amelia telling me no. If anything, it was a hint that she wanted what she knew I would do to her.

  Stepping closer, I watched her breasts lift with every labored breath, the tips softly brushing my chest.

  Our e
yes met again. “That wasn’t you saying stop.”

  Air shuddered over her lips, her eyes holding mine like the prey she was. Cornered, trembling, terrified.

  Ripe for the taking.

  Her voice was a bare whisper, a lure, a fucking tease. “I don’t want you to stop. I don’t know why, but I -” Her voice trailed off. She stared up at me with a defeated expression, confusion swirling behind her teal eyes.

  We were risking everything. Out in the open. Exposed so that if anyone were to walk by, her future at Hastings would be out of reach. All because of me. All because I couldn’t tell myself no.

  There was nobody in the building.

  Fuck, I hoped that was true.

  Leaning forward, I smiled to feel her body shake, the quick shiver to feel my breath against her neck, to feel my hips press against hers.

  “If this happens, nobody can know. It will ruin you. I will ruin you. Do you know that?”

  It didn’t matter, her answer. Amelia could never understand just how thoroughly I intended to destroy her in every way I knew how.

  In her music, I heard violence, the notes plucking a string inside me that resonated with a fevered pitch.

  Without moving, she inhaled sharply, the air hissing over her lips before she said, “Maybe I’m ruined already.”

  Not in the way I plan to do it.

  Amelia and her damn secrets. Her music. Her aggravating disregard for safety. There was so much to correct in her, to pull from her, to develop if she’d ever be ready for Hastings.

  Convincing myself that I was doing this scared young girl a favor, I lifted my hand to her hip, reveled in the tremor of her body, closed my eyes to listen to her breath pour across her lips.

  “There are rules you must follow.” Turning my head, I was speaking against her cheek. “Break them and this ends. Everything. The program. Your music. Me.”

  “I know how to keep a secret. You should know that by now.”

  Her words were a taunt that only made me want her more.

  My fingers clasped her hip tighter, my cock a hard line against her leg, my lips pulling into a hard grin. “Fine; then rule number two: You’ll stop committing crimes while learning under me...”

  Learning music. Learning to fuck. Learning to obey every god damned command I gave her without complaint or hesitation.

  Amelia’s head turned just enough that the corners of our mouths were an inch apart. “What else?”

  “Rule number three: Whatever I tell you to do, you do. Immediately.”

  Our heads turned toward each other more, our mouths lingering, breath crashing together. “Anything else?”

  “No secrets,” I whispered, hand lifting from her hip to grip her chin. I would find out more about her brother, but now was not the time. For now, all that mattered was learning what it would be like to brush my lips across hers, to know what it would feel like for our tongues to dance in the beat that I set for her.

  “Is that all?” she asked, so low, I could barely hear her.

  My eyes closed and opened again to meet the sparkling depth of glimmering teal. “I own you from this moment on. Every day. Every second.” My grip tightened on her jaw. “Every fucking thought. Every action is mine. Can you live with that?”

  Without giving her a chance to decline, my mouth slanted against hers, more jarring notes from the keys as her body was shoved back, her tongue shyly skating over mine. A passing flicker of the soft tip, almost as if she didn’t know what to do with it.

  I liked that she was shy. Scared. Timid. It’s more fun to peel a woman open than to have her offer herself up like a present. And maybe that makes me an asshole, but I’ve never pretended to be sweet.

  The face I show the world is of a talented musician who dominates the keys. But the face hidden behind shadows is a man who likes to destroy pretty little things. Who likes to grasp a heart of innocence, break it down, strip it bear and demand it spreads its legs.

  Not stupid enough to believe that Amelia wanted all that I could give her, I knew she was curious, testing the waters, enamored by the excitement of a forbidden relationship. What she didn’t know was that I would take so much advantage that she would be ruined when I was done, a girl sent away to find her dreams while I returned to my life.

  Every note she played for the rest of her life would be mine. Every man she fucked would be drowned beneath my shadow.

  I knew the truth.

  I knew to stop this from happening.

  I just simply stopped giving a fuck.

  Breaking the kiss, I captured her bottom lip between my teeth, her legs parting to wrap around my waist, my hand claiming what was between them with such possession, she startled and squeaked.

  “From now on, you’ll wear skirts to class to give me free access.”

  Her body tensed beneath mine, eyes wide with apprehension.

  Driving my hand up her shirt, I palmed her breast, my fingertips scraping her skin when I pulled the cup down to reveal the taut nipple and skin. She trembled as I traced my thumb in a circle around the beaded tip, my mouth aching to taste it.

  “Disobey me and you’ll be punished. Fuck up your music and I’ll spank you over the damn keys. And if I find you playing games again with shitty thugs out on the streets, you better fucking believe it will be the last time you’ll ever see me.”

  My cock was painfully hard, aching for relief and she’d pissed me off by wearing jeans that denied me access. Reaching behind me, I unwrapped her legs from my waist, stepped back and decided to see just how much she still wanted me now that she’d broken the surface of who I could become.

  “Since you’ve already broken so many of the rules, I think it’s only fair you show me what that petulant little mouth of yours can do.”

  The pink staining her cheeks deepened to crimson, her eyes darting down to my pants and back up again. Indecision was so obvious in her expression that I wondered for a split second if she would change her mind.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  Only a bastard would lie. “I’d like to fuck your mouth.”

  A flicker of fear and surprise raced behind her eyes.

  This was up to her.

  I wouldn’t push.

  Wouldn’t make demands.

  Wouldn’t take that final step over the boundary until she told me she wanted what I could give her.

  Mouth swollen from the kiss and eyes demure, Amelia licked her lips and met my gaze to say the one thing I hadn’t expected from her.

  “I don’t know how.”

  My head angled to the side. “What do you mean?”

  Fidgeting over the piano, she winced at the sound of the hammers hitting strings.

  “I know you think I’m...well...I know what you saw last night at Majori’s. But,” a heavy breath poured over her lips, filled with something I couldn’t quite name.

  “What are you trying to tell me, Amelia?”

  Her gaze dropped to the floor at her feet, her body stilling as she made the confession.

  “I’m a virgin. I’ve never actually been with a man.”

  Son of a fucking bitch.

  That changed everything.

  Amelia

  You know, it’s funny. All my life I’d assumed men were always chasing virgins, as if there were some badge they received on their man card for having busted that hymen, deflowered that woman, or popped the holy grail of cherries. Those badges were like priceless trading cards they could display in clear plastic containers, a prideful moment proving they had been there first.

  Not Lennon.

  No, he stood stock still in front of me, eyes searching my face, skin turning a sickly shade as the shock of what I’d said tore through him.

  I went from feeling somewhat good about the tease of it being my first time to wondering if I should have said anything at all.

  From sure of myself to embarrassed.

  From ready to give it all up, to feeling naked and exposed.

  “Tell me you�
��re kidding,” he said, further making me believe that my inexperience was a bad thing.

  I didn’t know what to say. Folding my arms over my stomach I stared back at him, slightly hurt for the reaction. “I would, but you said no secrets.”

  Driving his hand through his hair, he turned, the suspenders at his sides swinging out with the movement. He stalked away, slammed his palms down on his desk, his head hanging down.

  Okay. So, what was I supposed to do now? Understanding that my news wasn’t something he’d wanted to hear, I adjusted my clothes back into place before quietly pulling my ass from the keyboard of the piano. Thankfully the hammers didn’t strike, didn’t make a single noise to draw his attention back to me.

  Maybe I should go.

  Or stay.

  I wasn’t sure.

  His voice was a deep growl, more a vibration from his chest than anything his throat had produced. “How is it possible you’re a virgin? I mean, for fucks sake, I met you while you were picking my fucking pocket. I caught you taking a guy to an alley-“

  “Just because I’ve done some messed up stuff doesn’t mean I spread my legs for every man that looks my direction. Plus my br-“

  Cutting myself off before mentioning Ben, I bit my tongue, my lips slamming together before we broached that topic. Julia had already said too much and I was scared Lennon would put the pieces together to figure out who had been with me at Majori’s.

  I had to say something to fill in the blank. “My family is super protective of me. Up until recently, at least.”

  He laughed, the sound harsh. Lifting his head, he looked at me. “Just in time for me to waltz in and screw up the one good thing they did for you.”

  Slightly taken aback by his comment, I bristled, anger swelling up in me that he’d once again led me right to that edge of being with him, only to shove me aside and walk away. “I’m an adult. What I do with my body is no longer their concern.”

  “I’m the worst thing for you, Amelia. Especially now that I know-“ He cursed under his breath, pushing away from the desk to round the edge and stuff papers into his bag. “This can’t happen.”

  Like hell it couldn’t...

  “No wonder you’re so damn clueless about the types of things that can be done to you.” He glanced up, his gaze seething.