Page 52 of Forbidden Temptations

In her hand, she grasped a XL magic wand rechargeable vibrator.

“This is Antonio.”

Revengewasadishbest served cold.

Though it sounded like an idiom Sun Tzu would have thrown about in his art of war, the proverb’s most attributed origin came from an English translation of Eugène Sue’s novel,Memoirs of Matilda, in 1846.

Its literal meaning was that the sweetest revenge was the one that is planned and savoured, rather than rushed for quick gratification.

And as far as Scarlett Holmes was concerned, a fallacy. A complete load of bollocks.

Or at least, until yesterday.The memory sent a shiver of heat rippling through her as she watched the timer on the cross trainer count down. Above it, the wall mounted tv screen played footage of a jogger’s view running through the ‘New Forest’. While attending her boarding school down in Somerset, she had developed a love of the outdoors and, by her last year, had spent an hour every morning jogging down the roads and lanes of the country. However, Gloucester’s Urban jungle didn’t have quite so many offerings, so she contented herself with an hour’s session on the trainer every morning.

However, between the deep ache in her lower quarters and the fact her legs were still wobbly, she’d had to make do with thirty minutes this morning.

Driven only by the vision of the man who’d done this to her, and his smug face as she’d sent him ducking from her office, she tried to ignore the throbbing through her ass and the phantom of his cock stretching and filling her. Such feelings had kept her awake half the night, but that had been enough to start plotting her revenge.

His papers already sat on her desk. When all was said and done, it had taken five minutes for her to pull them up from the HR department and only a minute more to prepare the dismissal forms. She’d been only a moment away from sealing his fate when she felt the icy fingers of reality creep up her spine.

She couldn’t sack him.

First, there was no cause. Richard had been a model employee, one of the few that had deserved his forthcoming promotion.

Second was his promotion. To fire a man just days after she had recommended him for promotion would make her appear incompetent, something she couldn’t allow the board to think. There were too many aligned against her already, just waiting for a slip up like this to remove her from operations. Sure, she had her shares, which would guarantee her a hand in the game, but they amounted to so little on their own, her only real hope of becoming a player was to form political alliances with other members, which would all be out of her favour.

No, she needed her reputation intact for the coming brokerage.

And that was the real clincher. Her reputation. The only way to fire Richard Martin would be to confess their tryst and her not entirely aggregable loss of her anal virginity.

And she’d be damned if she ever let that happen.

She’d worked too long and hard on cultivating her no nonsense tight-arsed bitch image to throw it all away now. The rumours that circulated about her carnal liaisons, though not entirely untrue, were just that. Rumours. Easily dismissed as water cooler gossip while at the same time adding to her legend.

Having something official in writing confirming one would throw all deniability away and turn her into nothing but the office slut.

And while the thought of the thorn that would be in her father’s side was amusing, it would certainly undermine her own ambitions as well.

No, she couldn’t fire him, but there were other ways she could have her revenge.

And that got the wheels in head turning until, as she tossed and turned in her bed trying to get comfy, she devised her plan.

It wasn’t exactly worthy of Glenn Close’s Bunny Boiler routine, but it was a start.

And as that thought brought a smile to her ruby lips, the timer on the cross gave a loud double beep as it flashed 00:00. Automatically it started the cool down time but Scarlet wasn’t in the mood to indulge it any further and slowed her movements down to a stop before carefully stepping down. Immediately she had to grab the side table where she kept her water bottle and towel as her knee almost buckled and a spasm of sensation that danced between pleasure and pain seared up her backside.

For her, anal had always been a firm no.

How would Arthur C. Clarke have put it?All these worlds are yours except Europa. Land there at your peril.

Many of her lovers had wanted to try it, and why not? She had a magnificent ass, and she’d always enjoyed teasing them with it before slapping them down.

Men had always been little more than living dildos. Some had some brains but most were worth nothing more than the thing between their legs.

But he’d been different. He had ignored her protestations and, worse of all, she’d wanted him too.

She’d enjoyed it. He’d made her love every fucking second of having his cock in her arse, and worse, she wanted more. She was addicted. Like a fucking heroin addict, the need to feel that dark and dirty pleasure, the thrill of being so utterly and completely dominated, surged through her veins, in her very blood, overwhelming her every sense.

Just the thought of it made her tingle and throb.

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