By His Reputation Ch. 01

With his reputation, a quiet Saturday morning was rarely a thing that actually could happen, and in his line of work those Saturdays at home were few and far between. What he thought would be a quiet day, a day with no interruption that should not be so difficult for a single man, was anything but -- all caused by one woman walking into his building, The Sycamore.

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The doorman saw what she was wearing, a simple white sundress against her pale skin. He saw the look on her face, how her lips were parted slightly, her eyes open wide, and the way she shifted her weight back and forth between her feet. She clutched a purse that hung over her shoulder close to her side and looked up as he stopped her, following his duty to determine who she was here for. All she could stutter was "I have a business card." The doorman's eyes changed to a look of understanding when he glanced at it and he stepped aside, pushing the door for the 17^th floor. What am I doing? I can't do this! It's Saturday morning! The thought raced through her mind even as the elevator door closed behind her and she rose through the building. She looked at her dress, straightening and flattening the front of it a few times. She could feel the heat in her cheeks and the coldness on the back of her arms. A thin sheen of cold sweat had formed on them. Shifting back and forth, she followed the advice her friend had given her. "Take a few breaths on the elevator ride up. I promise you, you won't regret visiting Mr. Page." She did as was suggested. It didn't help. She was still anxious and quite meek at the moment. Another thought dashed through her mind. Why am I even doing this? I don't know this man!

The door opened and she stepped forward automatically, her feet carried her over the smooth wooden floor to the first door on her left. 1701, just as the card had directed her. An eternity of maybes passed through her mind as she waited in front of it for a good reason to either leave or push the button. She had neither and that scared her more than anything. And then it dawned on her. That fear. That thrill. She could have both at the same time. She would lie and make something up. Her friend and coworker, Denise, had told her to meet this man, but never specified on what terms. Maybe she was just a fan of his art? Or needed to borrow a cup of sugar? That's stupid...nobody actually does that. The doorbell rang and she looked quickly in response to the sound before the realization struck her and send a cold snake down her spine -- she had rang the doorbell without even realizing it.

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He stood from his table; a pencil drawing of a sparrow within a cage was passively demanding his attention while failing to hold it for more than a moment. Just as well, he had been staring at it for a half hour now. He buttoned his black shirt, he moved to the door, his bare feet making soft sounds against the clean wooden floor as he stepped across his home. Grasping the handle he opened it to meet...her.

"I think you're a really great artist cup of sugar please?" she blurted out mistakenly in an instant, and immediately he could see the red embarrassment on her face. He looked quizzically at her light hazel eyes. His icy blue gaze gripped her mind with a natural, effortless intensity. Her lips fell open as her breath was stolen in that moment. He stepped back from the door and leaned his head to look at her state of dress. Her light reddish hair flowed like a silken river down just past her shoulders, thin ginger streaks highlighting her face; the white dress hugged her forms and curves; her purse was in front of her like a shield. He stepped back from the door and extended his right hand to gesture her to come inside.

She quickly stepped inside, her feet carrying trembling legs and knees into his apartment. She tried to speak again, the nervousness of the cab ride and the elevator ride making her stutter slightly. "Good morning, Mr. Page. A friend of mine from the school told me I should meet you. She knows I like art and she said I should see your work. She said you're quite close friends and that you knew I was coming?"

He gave the woman a soft smirk. Denise...I'm going to have to have a talk with her. It has to be her. "And did Denise tell you anything else about me?" he asked while watching her expression closely.

She blushed and looked immediately at the floor, her body refusing to let her make eye contact with the man. She took a deep breath involuntarily and goosebumps rose on her arms. She opened her mouth to speak but he stopped her with a finger to his lips and a very soft "shh." She was immediately flustered, but fell silent in an instant.

"Please, come in. Make yourself comfortable." He was already closing the door behind her and turned to walk away into the kitchen. She looked around his apartment, attracted to the post-modern feel of it. A few pieces of artwork hung from the walls, some paint and some pencil. A replica of "The Starry Night" hung above his fireplace that was radiating warmth in the cool fall morning air. There was no television, which surprised her, but an off-white leather couch and two black leather armchairs that faced Oh God now that's a view...This apartment is gorgeous! She saw the view from his living room, high on the 17^th floor and looking over the skyline of the city. It was breathtaking.

"Sit," his voice came crisply from the kitchen. She looked around, unable to see him anywhere. How does he know where I am? His voice left no room for interpretation or question. She sat on the couch and waited politely with her hands in her lap, her back straighter than before, her posture trying to be perfect until she caught herself and relaxed a bit. Just a bit.

He interrupted her looking around his home a few minutes later by coming back carrying two mugs, one with coffee and one with tea. She reached out and took the coffee cup from his hand and he lifted the tea to his lips while she tasted the smooth blend. Good...we can sit and talk. We can get to know each other. She smiled up at him and said thank you, but he did not respond, he paced back and forth in front of her on the couch.

"Do you know why you are here?" he asked, that voice infuriatingly smooth again, like silk wrapped around a wooden ball that hit her in the gut every time he spoke.

She nodded, finally glad that she had an opportunity to speak in response to a direct question. Something she could answer with certainty. "My friend...well, my coworker. She gave me your card. She told me to come visit you and see your art and get to know you. She said you were an interesting man." She looked pleased that she was able to answer his question without any hesitation. A moment of control in a morning that had quickly spun out of control for her.

"You already said that. I asked you if you know why you are here, not how you found me," he responds quickly and without any hesitation, as though he was expecting her answer to be incorrect. He drank deeply from the tea in his hands, reminding her of the warm cup between her own. She drank again -- it was deliciously simple.

"No, I don't know," she said simply and closed her eyes to drink again, suddenly needing a moment of silence to think. Her heart was racing and she couldn't answer his question, even to herself. Gun to her head, the best answer she could give him would be "because someone told me to."

He stands again and looks out at the sunrise. "Finish your coffee and follow me." He walks down the hallway past his bathroom, his guest bedroom, and towards his master bedroom, leaving only the last door open to the young woman. He stands with his back to the door and starts counting silently to himself, the moments passing slowly but not to be rushed. 1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8 and there she was. Behind him, breathing softly.

"I have paint on this shirt. Help me out of it." Her eyes grew wide and she looked at his broad back like he had just told her to undress herself. He extended his arms out from his sides, and waits, standing still. It was now that she got a good look at him. He was wearing a dark black long shirt, tucked into black pants and clean bare feet. He stood a bit over six feet tall, towering over her at five feet, eight inches, with shaggy dark blonde hair as a finishing touch. Who are you... she said to herself one more time before she found herself touching his back slowly.

"Do it. Now." His voice a gentle and insistent command to her very soul. She bit her bottom lip and lifted it off, revealing his smooth skin to her eyes. A soft gasp escaped her lips and she drank in the sight of him unbidden and uninstructed. Her chest swelled with a deep breath and the woman felt suddenly very aware of her underwear hugging her hips and her bra holding her breasts tight, failing at protecting her from something she did not understand but dove into.

He grasped the neck of his shirt and pulled the rest of it off, turning to face the woman. His body was large, husky even, but his arms and chest had the natural strength of such a large man. She could see it the moment he turned around. He was speaking to her, but all she could hear was the sound of his voice, the words washing over her body like a hot shower.

"Are you listening to me, woman?" he asked her, shocking her from her reverie like cold water to her face. She shakes her head and finds herself almost apologizing, biting her lip again in the process stopping the words from tumbling out. "You're here because of what you are. And what I am. Don't deny it. And stop fighting it. Embrace it; live it," his words a soothing panacea to her soul in that moment. She did not panic as his fingers reached forward and touched her arm. A strong grip on her forearm made her head swim. The heat of his hand seared her skin and made her gasp again.

"What am I?" She asked simply, as his hand moved up her arm, gently stroking her skin. Her body reacted with goose bumps where he had touched and spreading until she felt them even down her legs.

"You are a woman," as his other hand reaches to her neck, it curls around behind her and cups the back of her head, almost making her collapse just from that contact, "and you are here." He knew exactly where her sensitive spots where. Her body and heart screamed in silent shivers at the declaration of what she was and she knew right then she should asked Denise more questions. It was too late. And it would always be too late now.

He doesn't say a word as he pulls her close, and she closes her eyes knowing as certain as the sun rises tomorrow he was going to kiss her. His cheek brushes past hers, and she feels the sharp stubble of his chin against her skin as his lips touch her neck. Breath leaves her body and she forgets how to draw more. She finally gasps for breath and feels the blood rush to her face. This...this was what she wanted. This was why she was here. She owed her friend.

"Yes....I am," she whimpered softly into his ear. She embraced it and leant into it, discovering this truth about herself. She followed his instructions. She embraced it. She lived it. And in the next breath, her world ended. His teeth dug into her skin and she forgot her name. She saw fire and light in her eyes, growing brighter and brighter as he pressed his teeth against her heartbeat.

She didn't know when it happened and she didn't care. In the next breath she felt her soft belly exposed to the cool air and it shocked her out of her moment. She leaned back and whimpered "You won't like my body," and her arms wrapped around her stomach tightly. She looked down at the floor, suddenly very interested In the hardwood floors.

A strong hand gripped her chin and neck and she looked up into the ice water in his eyes. He took a chance. "Your body is mine. And I will not let anybody insult my property." Her heart leapt and, as her feet left the floor, she found herself in his tight grip on the bed and his lips on her neck again, biting her again. Flat on her back on his bed, her arms moved to cover herself before he quickly moved to pin them down. "Don't move." She laid completely still, his words a stronger bond than any restraint could ever be. His hands migrated slowly down from her neck, to her hips and she felt the thin fabric move up over her belly again. She remembered his words and froze still, held in place despite her body's strong desire to move. His fingers deftly grabbed the band around her waist and pulled it slowly down. The cool air finally touched her, and she felt how slick she already was, from unconsciously rubbing her thighs together. The useless piece of cloth discarded on the clean floor where it belonged -- away from the body he had claimed as his. In a flash he stood and she looked at him. Immediately wondering if she did something wrong, she wanted his hands to come back onto her body.

With teasing, slow, practiced ease, he pulled a black rope attached to one of the bed's feet from its hiding place underneath and brought it up while staring into her eyes. Their eyes locked with each other as the rope tightened around her ankle. She knew better than to resist or fight. But right then, she could not imagine even wanting to fight back and to argue. Why would she want to stop him, the rope felt amazingly good as it cinched tight. It felt right. She looked at him carefully as he moved to her other leg. She felt on display and exposed before him as he crossed the room. He could look down and see all of her exposed. And in that moment, when she hoped liked what he saw, she knew she was truly lost. The rope tightened around both of her ankles -- her heart raced when she felt his weight back on her body. He was so big, he could cover her easily. He could throw her around. He could hold her down Oh god yes I want him to hold me down, please hold me down! she silently screamed in her mind.

Other lovers of hers had difficulty pulling her bra off with two hands while she faced away from them. He unsnapped hers in a fraction of a second while she lay on her back. She gasped as her nipples grazed against that offensive piece of clothing, wishing he would take it off. She felt herself sitting up with his help, and his hands moved behind her, reaching under her dress and maneuvering her arms. He had done this before, and he knew what he was doing. She felt cared for as he caressed her skin, her bra joined her panties on the floor, and her nipples grazed gently against the soft fabric of the dress. "What will you do to me now?" the words escaped her lips like a soft prayer into the night and he let her body fall back onto the pillows, not bothering to remove the sundress. She moved her hands so she was spread eagled, perhaps subconsciously, she could not tell. She wanted this, more than she wanted her next meal.

He obliged. Her hands were quickly bound with a knot and she wriggled her wrists, feeling the rough rope against her soft skin. She never had that sensation before and now she wanted nothing but. The rough material moved against her skin with every wiggle and pull, very different than the smoothness of the dress or the hardness of his body. Her body was completely restrained for him. But she didn't need it. And she never would with him. What am I saying? I'm going to do this again? What AM I saying? Of COURSE I will! As long as he will have me! Oh GOD I want him to have me!

He was seemingly oblivious to her thoughts as he climbed back onto the bed, his weight comfortable on her now. He finally pressed his lips against hers, and she wanted to die in that moment of perfection. It was beautiful. His tongue slipped into her mouth and began to battle hers for dominance. She, of course, relented and his tongue slid over hers, embroiled in their lusty wrestling match. Loving his taste as much as he loved hers, she drank him in, not able to get enough of his...everything. She wanted everything now.

And he gave her that. His fingers began exploring her body. She could feel him stroking her soft curves, cupping her breasts, touching her lips and moved her own tongue to grasp hungrily at his probing finger, tasting his skin suddenly. He touched her thighs, stroking the soft flesh there before finally, after what seemed like hours of gentle torture and teasing, he sank his fingers into her and for yet another moment, she couldn't breathe. She gushed around him, the anticipation building in her heart as her pussy gripped his fingers. She squeezed against him trying to draw him deeper, but he only teased her with one finger gently moving. She wanted more. She needed more. She existed for more.

"Close your eyes," he said and her body obeyed. She never made a choice to obey and didn't realize she had until it had already happened. He stood and smirked but all she could hear is the unmistakable sound of a belt buckle and a strange sound...a match being lit?

Whatever mysteries, whatever thought; whatever was unclear in her mind was wiped away soon after that. His body pressed on hers again, and she felt his bare skin. His chest pressed against hers, the dress starting to lift up to her neck with his movement against her. His naked legs pressed against hers and she felt his stomach press against hers as he lifted the dress back up. Her heart leapt in her chest and her pussy started to slicken even more. Against her slick entrance she felt it. FINALLY! His cock, pressed against her. Hot and throbbing, she could feel his heartbeat in it as hers raced, ready to explode out of her chest. Her lust overtook her and she started to move against him, silent begging becoming vocal as she whimpered "Please. Please give me it. Please make me your woman. Use me!" She was unaware that her voice started to rise the more she said, at the end almost shouting for him. She could hear him growl, still behind closed eyelids, and his hand held her down on her neck. She struggled against the ropes as his strong powerful hand gripped her throat, a small part of her instinctively trying to get away, only earning a stronger punishment as he gripped tighter. Stars swam in front of her eyes as she gasped for breath. In a moment, it didn't matter anymore. All silly thoughts flew out of her head, driven by a powerful explosion as he finally sank his cock into her.

Fuck it's too big! I can't take it! Oh GOD yes take me! Make me yours. She wanted to scream but it was a soft gasp at best. His strong body on top of her, plunging into her fully, stretching and filling her in ways she had never felt. He leaned down to kiss her deeply and she lost all control. His hand on her throat controlling her, his cock right where it belonged, in her pussy, and the most powerful kiss of her life; it was all too much and she gushed around his thick shaft and pulled as hard as she could on the restraints, leaving deep bites in her wrists and ankles. Her mind exploded into nothing but white light and her eyes flew open, looking at his strong face kissing her while his body claimed her like the property she now knew she was. For the first time in her life, she was being properly taken, and her body rewarded her lover as such, spraying his thick shaft with her cum as her legs shook and breasts heaved under the dress drenched with sweat, making it cling to her.

He broke the kiss and leaned back. One hand on either side of her, and locking eyes with her. He started to pound into her, thrusting hard and fast like a piston. His thick head gripped tight by her with every thrust. The man's bare cock finally completely sheathed inside of her only to pull out and repeat the glorious process again and again as her wet slit made lewd sounds with each powerful fast thrust. She loved it, she could feel every ridge and vein in his cock as she gripped him tightly, her body desperately trying to keep him from pulling out. The smooth head and ridge rubbed inside her. The head brushed against her most sensitive spot and every time, her leg started to quiver without her even trying, as he forcibly pushed her closer and closer to another orgasm.