You got me sippin' on something
I can't compare to nothing
I've ever known, I'm hoping
That after this fever I'll survive
Selena Gomez, "The Heart Wants What It Wants"
–
"Miss Arendelle, so nice of you to finally join us."
Elsa steeled her expression as she entered the room.
"My apologies, gentlemen, I was on a– erm, important phone call."
Some of the members of the board bobbed their heads in understanding. Aside from Elsa there were nine other members of board, all of whom were men, and all older than Elsa. They'd been in the business since long before she was even born; some of them had even been on the board during her father's days as CEO.
She made her way to the head of the table and sat, setting her papers before her on the tabletop and ignoring the pressure pushing on her womb.
"So, we have a few housekeeping things to get through before we discuss the matter of Weselton House," the man sitting two seats down from Elsa started; he was middle aged, but the youngest in the room besides Elsa herself, tall and lanky with dark, slicked hair. "Concerning our investors, it has come to our attention that…"
Elsa tried to listen as the board went through their usual topics and duties, throwing in a comment every so often to give the impression that she was paying attention, but she found it difficult to truly focus on the business at hand due to her heightened physical state.
As if Hans couldn't consume her thoughts more than he already had been lately, his phone call alone had left Elsa a quivering mess. Visions of Hans having his way with her– egged on by the colorful language he had used– played over and over in her mind's eye, teasing her to no end, driving her mad.
This is what he wants. To make me desperate enough to call him to my bed. And damn, if it isn't working.
But why did she feel the need for Hans to be the one to satisfy her? Her body was so riled up already, there was probably a chance that she could take care of this "problem" by herself, without giving in to Hans. She pondered this as a possible solution, but was again reminded of her failed masturbatory attempt during her college years, and her hope dwindled like a candle down to the wick.
She didn't know her own body well enough to pleasure it, and she surely didn't have the confidence to try to do so. Not again, anyway.
Feeling a fresh wave of helplessness and anger crash over her, Elsa whipped out her phone and punched out a text.
Fuck you for doing this to me.
Before she could reconsider her actions, she sent it.
A minute later, she received a response from Hans.
What's wrong, feeling a little sensitive today?
Elsa understood the double meaning and wanted to retch, but managed to save face in front of the members of the board. Glancing up, she breathed a tiny sigh of relief that everyone was too engrossed in their business to notice the subtle blush that graced her cheeks. She went to put her phone down instead of answering him, when it buzzed with another message from Hans. Unable to control herself, she read it.
You know what would help with that?
Elsa clenched her teeth as she typed out her response. I'm in a meeting.
Hans's reply was instantaneous. Set your phone to vibrate.
Elsa blinked, her curiosity piqued.
Now put it between your legs.
She may have been a virgin, but she knew what he was getting at, and it would be entirely inappropriate in a work setting– but she was too desperate for some sort of relief to care much.
Hesitantly, Elsa did as she was told, covertly sliding the device along her seat until it nestled comfortably against the front of her underwear.
At the first buzz, Arendelle Publishing's CEO nearly flew out of her chair. The man at Elsa's left, the person sitting closest to her and only a few feet away, didn't seem to notice.
"Concerning Weselton House," the man speaking announced suddenly, segueing from his previous topic as he shuffled his papers; the name caught Elsa's attention and she sat up straighter in her chair, eager to listen. When the second vibration came from her phone, rupturing against her fabric-covered clitoris, she somehow managed to remain rigid. Only her toes twitched inside of her shoes.
"It's no secret that they've been on the downturn since the allegations against them concerning industrial espionage came to light, thanks to the Sisters Arendelle."
A murmur of approval rippled through the room.
Bzzzzt.
"On top of that, there was– of course– The Duke's own arrest and subsequent litigation for embezzlement. Now, rumor has it," the dark-haired man continued, scanning the room. "That they may even be forced to declare bankruptcy by the end of the quarter."
An even louder murmur made its way through the group this time; some had heard the rumor already, while others had heard no such thing. Elsa, of course– as CEO– had been the first to know.
But none of that mattered right now, as her phone received another message, followed quickly by a second one, and then a third, resulting in a lengthier, more drawn-out vibration that almost caused Elsa to cry out.
It wasn't enough to cure the ache she suffered from, but it was helping tremendously to temporarily soothe it.
"Now, we don't know that for sure," Elsa piped up, keeping her voice steady. "It's mere speculation at this point– aah!"
Another buzz ripped through Elsa's body, resonating from her sex to the tips of her fingers in a roll of pleasure. She had to press both hands to the tabletop to keep still. A handful of eyebrows raised in her direction.
"Something to- to keep in mind as we– ahah–"
Bzzzzt.
"Excuse me, we– we-eehah–"
Bzzzzt. Bzzzzt.
"I'm sorry, t-today's just really not a good day, so why-ay don't we table this for n-next week? "
Bzzzzt bzzzzt bzzzzt bzzzt.
Elsa's leg involuntarily kicked out beneath the table; luckily, it didn't make contact with anyone around her. In a frantic bid for a reprieve from the pleasurable sensations originating at the point where her phone pressed against her womanhood, she reached below for the incessantly vibrating device and chucked it to the floor, hoping that none of the men around her had noticed. It clattered once and then ceased its buzzing.
"Yes, until next week," she reiterated with an exhale. "That shall conclude today's meeting. Thank you, gentlemen."
After exchanging looks, some miffed and others concerned, the members of the board packed up their things and began to shuffle out of the conference room, each one bidding Elsa goodbye as they left.
"So, Elsa," the black-haired man who had been speaking started jovially as he approached her, bowing his head in respect. "I've received invitation to your sister's baby shower this weekend. Will you be attending?"
"Yes, I–"
Bzzzzt.
In a kind gesture, the man bent as though to retrieve her phone for her from its spot on the ground, but Elsa jumped from her seat and snatched it up before he could see the messages on her screen. Who knows what kind of nasty, sordid things Hans had sent to her?
"I'm sorry– I can't stay and chat, I have another phone call to attend to."
Bzzzzt.
"I mean– I need to make it. The call. I need to make the call."
Bzzzzt.
"A call. I need to make a call! Ha, not the call. Just a call. A normal, regular call. So sorry, please excuse me."
Brushing past the dumbfounded man, Elsa hurriedly made her way to her office and practically slammed the door shut behind her, leaning her back against it as she allowed her racing heart a moment to calm itself.
She glanced at the messages that Hans had been sending her throughout her meeting; nothing but gibberish and a slew of emojis. It was apparent that he had just punched in whatever was convenient to send as many messages as quickly as possible.
Within moments, Elsa had hit the call button next to Hans's number.
"That didn't take long," he mused upon answering.
"Give me what I want," Elsa demanded before she could doubt herself.
"What do you want, Elsa? I don't even think you know."
She strolled over to the windows of her office and gazed at the city below, focusing on nothing in particular. A trickle of wet slowly began to make its way down her inner thigh. It tickled.
"I want the letters. And I want… what you promised me."
"Hey, now, I didn't promise you anything," Hans warned, his voice teetering. "I offered you a deal, which you've yet to accept."
She couldn't endure his torment any longer. "Give me what I want, and maybe I'll consider your little deal."
Hans snorted. "No can do, Princess. You don't get to bargain with me here. That's not how this works."
"It is now," Elsa snapped. "You have a lot more to gain here than I do. Which also means that you have a lot more to lose. I can walk away from this entire thing either way and be no worse for wear. You, on the other hand…"
Silence on the other end. She knew she had struck a chord with him. Hans may have been caught once in his little scheme against Elsa and her sister, but she knew that he wasn't stupid. Quite the contrary, he may have been the cleverest man Elsa had ever had the misfortune of meeting.
"Okay, I'm listening," he replied at last, albeit begrudgingly.
Elsa sucked in a breath, finding her courage for the proposition she was about to present.
"Come over tonight, and give me what I want. If I'm… satisfied… then… well, I can't promise that I can drop all of the charges against you altogether, but maybe we can suggest a plea deal to drop some of the lesser charges and reduce the prison time and fines that you're facing."
A beat passed as Hans considered her proposal.
"And if you aren't… satisfied?" he inquired.
"What, you're not confident that I absolutely will be?"
Elsa was caught off guard at hearing the sultry tone of her own voice. Am I flirting?
A laugh on the other end. "I just know how picky you can be, Princess."
"Well, let's just say that if tonight doesn't fully meet my expectations, at least you got one last romp before getting locked away for five-to-ten years. I hear they don't allow conjugal visits up at state."
Did I really just say that? Kill me.
"If they did allow them, would you visit me?"
Elsa ignored his snarky remark.
"Tonight." She repeated. Then, as an afterthought: "And don't forget to bring those letters."
She didn't wait for Hans to respond before disconnecting the call.