I bite my lip as he presses another button on the remote, causing the buzzing sensation to intensify. I shoot him a playful glare before turning my attention back to the concert pretending that the vibrator isn’t having an effect on me. The music swells around us. It’s impossible not to get swept up in its beauty, but with each passing minute the vibrations against my sensitive flesh become more insistent. When the musicians speed up, Ben increases the vibrations. When they slow down, he does the same until the vibrations are barely noticeable.

I squirm in my seat trying to find some relief, but every shift just makes it worse. I shoot Ben a pleading look and he grins at me with a fire in his eyes. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

Then the violins start to play faster and louder just as they approach the end of the movement. I can feel myself teetering on the edge of going insane. The vibrations are relentless now, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body. I grip the armrests of my chair and try to hold on as everything inside me starts to unravel.

But just as I’m about to tip over into blissful release, the music stops. The room falls silent, and I let out a frustrated groan. Everyone around us claps politely, oblivious to the erotic torture I’ve been enduring.

Ben leans over and whispers in my ear, his voice low and husky: “Not yet.”

I’m torn between frustration and arousal. The musicians on stage start to tune their instruments in preparation for the next movement and I realise this is far from over.

The next part of “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik” is slow paced and gentle. I wait for Ben to activate the vibrator, but nothing.

I try to focus on the music and make it through almost the entire piece when the vibrator starts to hum gently. Not much, but a little. Ben keeps it at this level all through movement two. But during the next piece, he ever so slowly increases the intensity, building up my frustration again. By the end of it I’m desperate for more.

“One more,” he whispers as the first notes of the fourth and final movement ring out. It is another fast-paced one. It starts off with a melody imitating the singing of birds, and Ben presses another button on the remote control. I lean back in my seat and try to relax, but it’s impossible to ignore the constant hum of pleasure radiating through my body. Each note seems to vibrate in perfect harmony with the toy inside me, intensifying the sensations until it's all I can think about.

I steal a glance at Ben who is watching me with lust and desire. He leans closer and brushes his lips against my ear.

"Imagine everyone watching you right now," he murmurs. "If they would only know that you are being a naughty girl desperate for me to let her come."

His words send a shiver down my spine as I picture it―a sea of faces turned towards me as I squirm in my seat, desperately trying not to moan or cry out in ecstasy.

"You're so close, Amelia," he continues. "But you can't let go just yet. You have to hold it together until we’re alone."

His words ignite a desire within me as I cling to the edge of control. The vibrations against my clit and in my pussy are now relentless, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. The part inside me presses gently but firmly against my G spot, and as Ben increases the speed of the vibrations again, I almost lose it. A low moan escapes from deep within my throat before I can stop it, but thankfully it gets lost in the swell of sound around us.

As the final notes hang in the air like a promise unfulfilled I try to keep my composure. My body is wound tight with need, every nerve ending on high alert.

Ben's hand finds its way under my skirt and he grips my thigh possessively as he watches me. I'm so close now, teetering on the edge of a cliff, and I know that with just a little push I'll finally fall.

I meet his gaze and he nods as if he can read my thoughts. He hits a button on the remote and the strongest vibration so far hits me, and everything inside me unravels. I lean my head against his shoulder and press my lips together as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over me. I grip Ben's hand tightly as I ride out the orgasm, lost in a myriad of feelings.

The room comes back into focus and I realise that we're still surrounded by people. But instead of being embarrassed or self-conscious, all I feel is a deep sense of satisfaction.

I let out a shuddering breath. My heart pounds in my chest as everyone around us gets to their feet to show their appreciation for the musicians.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to listen to Mozart without thinking of Ben.

22

From Now On

Ben

Amelia clings to me as we walk out of the Music Room. I knew I had to wear the tightest boxer briefs I have today: my cock is hard and throbbing, and I can't wait to get her alone. I should have booked a hotel room in Brighton rather than having to make the one-hour drive back home. But Furball is on his own and I think he would have planned my murder if I kept Amelia from him for a whole night.

I'll miss him when they eventually move back to Amelia's cottage. But not as much as I'll miss her. I swallow hard and try to not let the thought ruin my evening. Luckily for me, her landlady’s plumber is hopeless, so there’s no date yet for her boiler to be fixed. So far I have been able to convince her to stay, even though the temperature is warmer now.

"Ben!" a familiar voice calls from behind me. "Ben, my boy, that's a coincidence." Shit! My eyes land on the short, balding man heading our way. He has an arm around a woman at least fifteen years his junior.

"Neil, that's a surprise." It really is a surprise because I'm pretty sure he once told me he hates classical music.

"Oh, you know, sometimes you have to do something nice for the wifey so she does something nice for you, if you get my gist." He winks and then laughs about his own joke. I give him a smirk and it takes everything in me not to roll my eyes.

"Amelia, this is Neil Blackwater from Henderson Steel Works. Coop and I are considering a collaboration with them," I introduce him. “Neil, this is Amelia Foley, my partner." I slide my hand around her waist. Amelia looks at me with surprise when I call her my partner, but relaxes into my embrace.

"Oh, don't play hard to get Ben. You know Henderson Steel is the leading manufacturer of steel beams in the country and your only real option," he laughs. "Nice to meet you, Amelia. You’re not quite what I imagined Ben's girlfriend to look like," he laughs.

Arsehole! Amelia stiffens but I pull her closer to make it clear she’s with me.

"In a good way, of course," Neil adds and lifts Amelia's hand to his mouth to place a phony kiss on it. Amelia flinches but allows him to press his lips to the back of her hand. Neil is in his late fifties and from an era when it was still considered okay to grope your secretary or make lude jokes in boardrooms. He’s not a man I would choose to hang out with, were it not for the business deal.

"Did you like the concert, my dear?" Brenda, or Mrs Neil as her husband introduced her to us, asks Amelia.

"Oh, it was …. stimulating," she eventually replies with a cheeky smile. That little minx. I gently squeeze her side and she giggles.

Brenda clearly agrees with Amelia―albeit for completely different reason, I'm sure―as she gives us a short lecture about why Mozart is superior to all other composers. Amelia is squirming next to me probably because by now she is keen to take the vibrator out. I'm tempted to switch it on one more time. She was so beautiful coming apart earlier when she tried not to be obvious; it took everything in me not to whisk her away in the middle of the concert.

"Oh, you must," I suddenly hear Brenda say. Shit, what did I miss?

"If my little wifey says so, you can't possibly not, Ben. If we talk about the deal we can write off the dinner as a business expense," Neil chuckles. Fuck, no! That's the last thing I want now. Dinner with Neil and his wife.

"I—"

"Of course, we would love to join you for dinner," Amelia says. I give her a quick look and she just shrugs.

"Excellent," Neil slaps my back and I have to suppress the urge to slap him back.

"The restaurant is just across the street. The Duck and Orange. We'll meet you there." He gives us one last smirk and then drags his wife off after him.

"Amelia, why—"

"It sounded important, with the deal and everything." She looks at me nervously. "Should I not have accepted?"

"Honestly I’d much rather take you home and give you another orgasm than sit through a dinner with these people," I whisper and plant a kiss on her lips. Fuck, I think I'm addicted to her. "I also don't think Furball is going to forgive us."

"Oh my god, you do care about Smutty!" she exclaims with a big grin.

"I―well, it will be me he'll bite on the ankle again if we’re late," I argue, but we both know it’s a weak excuse. Yes, that little black shadow has grown on me.

"Sure,” she smirks. “Well we can use Omar waiting for us as an excuse to not stay too long," she shrugs. "But before we go, I'll have to nip to the ladies because this thing needs to come out." An older woman walking pass stares at us curiously causing Amelia to blush again. I wonder if she'll ever get used to her new sexy kitten side, but I sure hope not. I love her pink cheeks.

This feels like the longest dinner ever when in reality only forty-five minutes have passed. Normally I would be all over business partners―anything to make the deal happen―but today I'm bored by the business talk and all I want to do is get Amelia home and bury myself in her.

Maybe Coop is right. Maybe we have done this all-work-and-no-fun thing long enough. It's time to enjoy life a little.

"Would you excuse me, I’ll just head to the bathroom," Amelia says and slides from her chair. She gives me a smile and disappears behind the screen separating our table from the next. It's a weird restaurant. They've got wooden partitions between each table, making it feel like you've got your own little bubble. The menu sounds posh but if you look closely it’s just overpriced chicken.