FicWad

(A/N: This is an old piece I did years ago, it was posted under a different user name but I deleted that account so have posted it on this one. I have also slightly rewritten it due to some very good con crit - enjoy ;p )

She didn't need to see to know he was looking. His eyes burned into the back of her head, as she mingled gracefully with the guests, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end.

From his vantage point in the gallery, he could watch her every move without anyone having to know, she however, was not offered the same luxury. Had she wanted to see him; she would have had to stare awkwardly upwards. No doubt drawing attention to herself and to him.

She smiled dutifully at her guests, stopping every now and then to make polite conversation with the numerous well dressed groups, sat at expeertly laid tables, each one overflowing with empty bottles of expensive champagne. As she approached each table all eyes turned to her, some lustfully, some enviously- but all of them respectfully.

He watched her every move in awe and admiration, she was a breathtaking enigma, an alluring mystery.

His eyes followed the curve of her body, surveying the lines of her white evening dress as it hung elegantly from her petite form.

Her hair fell loosely around her shoulders in waves of golden blonde highlighting her high cheekbones and large exquisite eyes. She possessed a natural beauty that most could only dream of but with it she carried charming modesty and understated charisma.

He found her enthralling, and captivating; completely different to the women he had contact with on a daily basis.

The chandelier lights dimmed, leaving only the glow of the candles adorning each table, and the single spotlight pointing at the podium on the stage. In the flickering yellow glimmer; he watched with interest as everyone took their seats.

She waited until the sound of voices reverberating from the high ceiling died down, before slowly climbing the steps up to the stage and taking her place in the beam of the crisp white light. She could feel all eyes focusing on her, as she smiled gracious into the black abyss now engulfing her fellow guests.

With clarity and conviction she spoke, her silky smooth voice floating through the darkness.

"Good evening, and welcome to the first annual, Ryan McGregor Foundation charity ball. I'd like to start the proceedings by thanking each, and every one of you here tonight, those of you who have contributed to the auction, those of you who paid obscene amounts of money for tickets and those of you who have offered your time and energy, without charge might I add, to help this evening run successfully."

She paused, waiting for the enthusiastic applause to fade away, only continuing once the last pair of hands had silenced.

"As you all know my late husband, Ryan was not a man to hide from a challenge. He lived everyday as if it were his last and enjoyed all that life offered him. Even in the face of adversity he remained strong and enthusiastic; a true inspiration to us all."

In the ray of the spotlight she looked ethereal to him, the light toying with the shadows on her white dress and pale skin. Her dark eyes sparkled in the beam; but he couldn't be sure if that was because there were tears glistening under her lids every time she blinked. He watched as she played the role of grieving widower, and marvelled at how well she fulfilled her part but he knew differently, he knew the other side to her; the adulterous siren she kept hidden from the prying eyes of the public.

She spoke warmly and lovingly of the man everyone knew, the friend, the pioneer, the charitable, flawless, doting husband all the while keeping the truth to herself locked away beneath the lies and manipulation. No one else knew, not his friends or hers, certainly not her child. To everyone else in this world they walked different paths that took them to opposite ends of the earth.

Only the earth isn't as vast as many people believe, and they frequently came into close contact with one another, secretly, behind closed doors in the dead of the night. Their hot bodies colliding yearning for the touch of illicit, sordid, adulterous sex.

She finished her heart-warming speech, and stepped down, not an ounce of guilt permeating her black soul. She was as deadly as she was beautiful; and yet he was the only person in the world who knew this.

As the auction began he slipped away, quietly unnoticed by everyone. Making his way to the depth of the wine cellar, one he knew like the back of his hand; something he would venomously deny, should he ever be questioned.

He descended the stairs, the familiarity of it curving his pierced lips into a sly smile. His deep hazel eyes scanning the dank gloomy surroundings for any trace of her. He could smell her, the scent of her perfume and knowledge of what was to come teasing him into a lustful fury. He could almost taste her as he ran his hand along to damp wall, needing to feel something solid to reassure him this was indeed real.

She watched him as he approached slowly, purposefully. His hard body covered provocatively by the black suit and tie.

"My my, don't you look dapper," She called alluringly from the darkness, her voice velvety and welcoming.

"And you look like an angel," He replied, his eyes penetrating the blackness surrounding her, taking in her naked body.

"Oh, Frank, you say the sweetest things," She purred, trailing her hand down her neck and between her bare breasts, tantalizing him further still.

"Don't play coy, it doesn't suit you," He replied gruffly, shedding himself of his suit jacket.

"Really? So what does?" She asked, her tone mocking him.

He refrained from answering choosing instead to loosen his tie whilst plunging further into the shadows towards her.

Discarding his jacket carelessly on a barrel of vintage liquor she eyes him hungrily, her hands itching to undress him further still but she knew better than to demand anything from him. He was in control, that was the only way he would play this game, he decided where and when and how.

He casually removed his tie and placed it around her neck, his fingers lingering over her breasts, as he retied the material.

"You're more vixen than demure," He grinned, allowing his hand to trail slowly down her stomach to the top of her pelvis, his thumb threatening to delve lower still.

"And you of course are so sweet and innocent, you would never dream of becoming entangled with an adulterer," She sneered sarcastically.

He grabbed her throat and thrust her backwards sending her careering into a shelf full of expensive Cru Bourgeois, before she was able to steady herself he pounced on her and pinned her to the spot. She winced as his hands held her tightly around her waist, his fingers digging into the bottom of her back, but she didn't make a sound, knowing only too well that he would make her pay if she dared to yelp out in pain.

Satisfied that he'd subdued her for now he released his grip slowly, making sure to drag his hands away from her as roughly as he could knowing it would drive her to the brink of insanity. As she trembled in ecstasy he undid his shirt buttons and turned away; allowing her to slide the white material from his body. He caught his breath as she purposely tickled his bare flesh with her long nails, fighting hard to ignore the growing passion threatening to overcome him.

She knew how to get what she wanted without seeming dominant, she was a master of manipulation, and used it to her full advantage. Waiting until he turned back to face her she pouted, looking up at him through thick lashes. She knew he couldn't resist her charm for too long, no matter how much he liked to play master, she would always get what she wanted in the end, regardless of who or what got in the way.

With a smirk dancing on his parted lips he took her hands in his and kissed the insides of her wrists gently, allowing his teeth to graze the skin softly she inhaled sharply. Stepping closer to her he guided her hands to his trouser buttons, kissing her collarbone as she unbuttoned and worked him free of the restricting clothing.

"Commando as always, just the way I like it," She whispered in his ear, her fingers stroking him eagerly causing his hips to buck forward slightly.

"My aim, as always, is to please," He retorted kicking away his trousers.

"As long as it's only me you're pleasing," Her voice was light and airy but he understood the underlying threat.

"Why would I waste my time looking elsewhere; everything I want is right here?" He knew how to pacify her, just as he knew how to work her into a tormented delirium. He dipped his head low and curled his tongue around her nipple whilst his hand slid up her thigh, and exerted just the right amount of pressure between her legs.

She threw her head back and gasped in pleasure, her hands gripping the shelf behind her for support as her legs trembled dangerously underneath her. Moving his hand rhythmically he waited until she was panting hard, only then entering her and forcing her back against the shelf with the full force of his body.

Bringing his hot mouth to hers he kissed forcefully, biting her lips. She smiled into him as he drew blood, gripping the top of his arms for stability as she swayed with desire. Drawing out of her he paused, looking into her chocolate brown eyes and tilted his handsome face to one side.

"Don't expect me to play nice," He hissed seductively.

"Don't think you can break me," She answered him simply.

He thrust into her hard; putting all his weight behind it he plunged deep inside her before withdrawing and repeating. She whimpered against his brutal kiss and aggressive thrusts her hands clawing at the muscles on his torso leaving angry red marks where her nails dug in.

He continued at a steady pace, roughly taking her, filling her and kissing her. His body demanding everything she could give he pulled her head back roughly, showering her neck with bites and kisses.

"Fifty thousand was a small price to pay," She scoffed between breaths.

"It was worth every dime," He grunted, picking up pace with each thrust.

"Just as long as your friend keeps his mouth shut," She replied, wrapping her legs around him as he lifted her up.

"Stop worrying, he only dealt with me, he doesn't know about you, you're safe," He replied, finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything except the growing heat in his groin.

He felt her stiffen around him, shuddering hard before she let out a moan and went limp. Her lips curled up menacingly as she focused on the faint beam of light that was growing over his shoulder, her mind whirling as she regained control of her body and senses. She waited until the solitary light threw conspicuous shadows against the foreboding stair walls before speaking again.

"You're glad he's dead then?" She asked quietly.

"I always wanted him dead, and now he is," He growled, as his hips buckled and he released his orgasm allowing it to rip through his body in an explosion of rapture.

As he lost his senses she threw him back screaming wildly and sobbing loudly. She huddled herself in the corner, drawing her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs.

"I said no," She shrieked her eyes wide, tears streaming down her porcelain cheeks.

From behind he heard voices, turning sharply as a figure threw him to the floor.

"It's okay Ma'am, it's okay, he can't hurt you anymore."

Thrashing around on the floor Frank searched for an answer, his eyes darting from one figure to the next until the murkiness of the cellar was shattered by a dozen blinding lights.

She surveyed the scene from her grubby corner and fought the urge to smile triumphantly. Months of planning executed flawlessly. The phone call she had made moments before he joined her in the catacombs of her spectacular house timed to perfection.

"He did it; he admitted it, my poor, poor husband. That maniac did it," She sobbed uncontrollably.

The female police officer bent down in front of her and smiled sympathetically.

"It's okay Mrs. McGregson, we heard the admition from the stairwell. We know what was said."

She smiled gratefully, and genuinely at the police officer and watched gleefully, as Frank was led away protesting his innocence. He looked over his shoulder at her cowering in the corner and cursed loudly, the realization that he'd been used sinking in.

She bit her lip and looked at him innocently, knowing that with the scratch marks, the bite wounds, and the evidence of rough intercourse he didn't stand a chance. The only link between the assassin who had murdered her husband and her was Frank, and who would believe that she had ordered the hit after his open admission. He would be charged with rape and murder, and detained in custody for a very long time.

She shivered as she covered her naked body, the adrenaline coursing through her sinister heart elating her. She allowed herself a tiny smile as she pictured the news getting out. From here on out she was home free, the silent accusations of why a woman of her age would marry an ageing millionaire would be laid to rest, no more would she have to battle in court against petulant step children for her inheritance. In one fell swoop she had secured the demise of a husband she never loved, banked over fifteen million dollars, and guaranteed herself a life of opulent luxuries.

She was a master of manipulation; she would always get what she wanted in the end, regardless of who or what got in the way.