Fiction, discussion, and whatever else comes to mind relating to Romance and Sensual Romance...

Saturday, May 10, 2014

Silken Vengeance

The sharp, staccato click of high heels on marble floors echoed, bouncing off the walls of the corridor as she walked. Soft, fine silk brushed against her legs, sending a soft shiver rippling upward along her skin, waking every nerve ending. A wash of light told her which direction to take as she reached the intersection at the end of the main hall. The tap of her heels lost some of its edge as she slowed her pace.

She stopped outside the partially open door, gaze drawn to the arrow of light that was escaping from the office. Inside, laughter ended abruptly. She rolled her shoulders, relaxing tense muscles, the warmed silken lining of her coat igniting a new wave of shivers that slid along her veins. Lips curving upward, she pushed the door inward with one foot, blinking at the assault of light on her eyes.

The woman sitting in his lap moved quickly, stumbling backward in her hurry to get to her mostly discarded clothes. Dark eyes locked with hers.

“What are you doing here?”

Despite the anger that laced the words, there was a thread of fear woven into them.

She said nothing, merely slid the luxuriant fur coat from her shoulders and let it pool at her feet. He leaned back in his chair and nodded, his hungry gaze roaming over her naked form. The frightened girl inched toward the door, then bolted.

“You have my full attention,” he said.

“So I see.”

He adjusted the erection pressing against the dark briefs he wore, and she took the few steps that put her at his desk. She leaned down, and he laughed and made a reach for her. She straightened up and out of his reach in a smooth movement, then continued around the desk. Balancing on one foot with ease, she placed the other against his crotch, stiletto heel cupping him. His gaze grew wary.

She bent so their eyes met and a tiny snick of sound was followed by the widening of his eyes. She stepped back, retrieved her coat, and left, closing the door on the strangled gasps of his efforts to breathe.

The girl was waiting at the elevator, dressed and pacing. “When do I get paid?”

She was found with her boss in the morning, jewelled masque beside her, diamond studded heels next to her, his hand around her throat…

© Denysé Bridger