“Well, well, well. Secariot’s either a fool or brilliant to send such a beauty.” The hyur’s face reminded her of a weasel, thin and angular with beady eyes and a pointed chin.
“You must be Mister Burnsweed. A pleasure to meet you, my good sir.” The chair was overly soft. Araignee sank into the cushions and crossed one leg over the other. The silk of her dress hugged her figure, slid from her knee to give a glimpse of lace-trimmed stockings clinging to ashen skin on a well-shaped thigh. She smiled warmly and laid the document on the table.
“Oh no, I believe the pleasure will be all mine, sweetheart.” Burnsweed leaned over the arm of his chair, gaze moving around the edge of the table to take in the eyeful of leg offered to his view.
“My brother tells me you’re a -very- rich man, Mister Burnsweed.” Araignee cooed softly, a hint of awe in her tone. She perched her elbows on the table, hands folded daintily together and her chin resting against her knuckles. Kohl-lined eyes appeared wide and luminous in the slow quiver of candlelight.
“I, uh,” Burnsweed made the mistake of looking up. His gaze moved over the curves of her breasts resting a few ilms off the tabletop and framed by her arms. She caught his eye, and her smile spread. He swallowed thickly. “Yes, I am. Very rich. Salt mines.”
One arm lowered across the table. Slender fingers toyed with the corner of the document. Her lips curled coy and sweet, and she slid the paper closer to him. “I do love a man who’s a self-starter, Mister Burnsweed. Capable and able.” Her gaze dropped to his hands trembling around his glass. Her lips parted slightly and the tip of her tongue touched the corner of her mouth. “You’ve such broad hands. I can just imagine the things you must be able to do with them.”
The glass cracked under the sudden pressure of the hyur’s grip around it. Golden ale poured out over the edge of the table. Araignee blinked in surprise, her painted lips forming a perfect ‘O’ of alarm. Burnsweed dumped the napkin from his lap over the spill and reached out to capture Araignee’s retreating hand. “You needn’t imagine, my lovely. I’d be more than happy to show you every last thing I can do for you.”
Araignee’s shocked expression melted into the sultry in a blink of the eye. Lips curved and held slightly pursed. Silver-blue eyes glimmered in the candlelight beneath the thick fan of dark lashes. “Mm, I won’t need to point out then, Mister Burnsweed, that once you’ve signed that contract, we’ll be working very, very close together.” Her gaze held his until the end of her words then dipped towards the document between them.
His gaze shifted a moment after hers, dragging itself down the length of her neck to the curve of her collarbone and breasts rounding up above the edge of her dress. He didn’t even stop to read the contract much more than skimming it for where he needed to initial and sign. Araignee sighed and watched him, a finger coming down near a paragraph he missed initialling. He corrected the mistake.
She flashed him a wicked smile and plucked the document up the second his signature decorated the last line. “Good boy.” She signed her own name with a flourish and left him the copy of the deal. The signed paperwork she rolled up and delicately stuffed in her handbag. “I do look forward to working with you, Mister Burnsweed.”
He reached for her hand again. She neatly avoided the contact with a soft tsking sound. He redirected by laying his slimy palm on her leg. Araignee visibly shuddered at the contact. “As do I, my dear. As do I. Surely, you needn’t run off so quickly. A man does like to feel desired.”
A figure standing near the doorway shifted out of the darkness and towards them. Burnsweed hadn’t noticed him before. The large duskwight with the mismatched eyes that promised him things he didn’t want to learn about loomed over the table in but a few strides. Burnsweed’s hand slid off Araignee’s thigh.
“It appears my escort is rather eager to be on our way, Mister Burnsweed.” She gave him a brief smile, then placed her hand in the one Louvel offered her and rose from her chair. Her palm lightly touched Louvel’s chest with obvious familiarity. The hyur stiffened and sucked in a breath. “My brothers will be in contact soon for the first shipment. Until then, Mister Burnsweed, a pleasant evening to you.”
Araignee applied some pressure to the hand on Louvel’s chest, urging him to leave with her. She looped her arm with Louvel’s, leaning in towards him slightly as they walked away. The sway of her figure was quite deliberate. A glass smashed on the ground somewhere behind them, accompanied by a string of curses.
“Must you really toy with them like that?”
Araignee shrugged. “Whatever gets the agreement signed.” She glanced up into the face she quite adored, her smile softening for him. “It’s not my fault men like him misread situations so badly. So don’t worry. It’ll be a cold day in hell before I ever went to bed with a slime bucket like him. First off, that’s what Viper is for, and secondly, I’m quite happy with the bed I already lie in.”
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Louvel belongs to @louvel-roche. Thank you so much for letting me borrow him.
on the topic of fables and fairytales, my tv-firstborn has been taken in payment for Hannibal's renewal. The Borgias is officially cancelled. all of my hearts are broken.
