Sylvie's Gift Read online

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  Amber Quill Press, LLC

  www.amberquill.com

  Copyright ©2005 by Theresa Gallup

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  SYLVIE'S GIFT

  by

  ADRIANNA DANE

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  ISBN 1-59279-342-8

  Amber Quill Press, LLC

  www.amberquill.com

  Also By Adrianna Dane

  Eluria's Enforcer

  Esmerelda's Secret

  Graphic Liaisons

  Nights In White Satin

  DEDICATION

  Dedicated to my husband, who continues to support and encourage me to follow my dreams.

  CHAPTER 1

  "What do you mean you've never had an orgasm?” Allison was shocked by her friend's pronouncement.

  Sylvie shrugged. “Sex has never been all that exciting. I pretend. And I guess I do it well."

  Allison opened and closed her mouth like a fish. How could a woman of thirty-two not have experienced an orgasm? To her that was unthinkable.

  "I still can't believe it. You've never, not ever, come?"

  A red flush ran up Sylvie's neck into her cheeks. “No, Allison, never. I don't know why. I've thought I was in love several times, but they just—I don't know—don't push my buttons. I don't want to talk about it any more. For heaven's sake, we're in a restaurant."

  "God, Sylvie. Do you think maybe you might not ... well ... like men?” Allison had never given it much thought before, that Sylvie might have a preference for women. Given what she'd put up with from her father, it wouldn't be a big surprise.

  Sylvie sighed and shook her head. “No. Men interest me. I just don't think I've found the right one. They're attentive, handsome, but when we get to the bedroom, there aren't any fireworks."

  "Hmmm.” Allison had to think on that. This wasn't a situation that could be allowed to continue. No woman should go that many years without a good climax. “Mostly you've dated men you've been acquainted with through business, haven't you?"

  "Yes, I guess you might say that. Bankers, stockbrokers, other advertising executives. Men I've had something in common with."

  Allison thought she was beginning to have a glimmer of understanding. “They're usually awed by your position and power aren't they? Not to say you aren't beautiful, but isn't it the power that they really crave?” Danforth Taylor wannabes was Allison's assessment. Although, in her estimation, it would take a vicious, destructive temperament to go along with the appetite for power to even come close to imitating Sylvie's father.

  "They let you lead. Let you call all the shots. Treat you like porcelain.” Sylvie always seemed to go after the ones with no backbone. Men that would never think of challenging her in any way, not only because of her position with Foster International, but because of the prestige and influence her father held. They probably thought it would all attach to them if they played their cards right.

  "What are you getting at?"

  Allison kept her sexual preferences and liaisons separate from business. Although she considered Sylvie a very good friend, she never shared her dark sexual fantasies. Allison now looked at Sylvie in a new light.

  She'd always thought of Sylvie as a dominant figure somehow, but maybe what Sylvie really needed was to meet a Dominant man. A real Dominant, not someone who thought beating and subjugating through brutal intimidation was all a woman was good for. Someone totally unlike the men she usually dated. Allison slowly smiled. Maybe she'd try a little unorthodox matchmaking.

  Sylvie was Allison's superior at the company they both worked for, although Sylvie was Senior Vice President in Advertising and Allison was a Manager in the Accounting Department. Working in two different departments allowed them to remain friends without anyone screaming favoritism, as Allison didn't report directly to Sylvie.

  "I have an idea."

  "You've got that gleam in your eye, Allison. I'm not sure I'm going to like this."

  "I think maybe you will. It might seem strange to you at first, but it could be just what you need.” Allison pulled out her credit card since it was her turn to pay for lunch. “Come on, we're going shopping."

  "Why?"

  "Obviously the men in your life have been too tame and cowed by your position at Foster International. I'm going to a party on Friday, and I want you to come with me. And I want you to wear something very sexy, so I'm taking you shopping. I'm positive you don't have anything appropriate in your closet."

  Sylvie was a conservative dresser, long skirts and loose suit jackets. Allison had seen her in swimsuits and knew she had a great body—long waist, curvy hips, full breasts. But unlike Allison, she'd never think of making the most of her assets. Sylvie didn't think of herself as sexy. A little enhancement would go a long way.

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  Sylvie studied her reflection in the full-length free-standing mirror in her bedroom. Allison must be out of her mind. She couldn't wear a dress like this out in public. Black, sultry silk was studded with thin rows of tiny rhinestones spaced vertically at wide intervals along the fitted seams. The dress fluttered and glittered around her to just above her knees. There were slits along each leg that rose to the tops of her thighs. The bodice neckline draped in Grecian fashion in front, offering a hint of cleavage, and hugged her fully-developed breasts closely. Starting at her shoulders and plunging in a deep vee to her waist at the back were crossed, thin, rhinestoned spaghetti straps, leaving her back essentially naked. Allison's eyes had glittered with mischief when she saw Sylvie model the dress in the store. She had nodded and given Sylvie a smug grin.

  Allison had then pushed her toward the lingerie department. Sylvie was totally embarrassed by the item Allison picked out for her. She'd told her the black silk thong panties were necessary so the lines of the dress wouldn't be ruined. There was hardly any dress for them to ruin, Sylvie thought. She'd convinced Sylvie that no bra would be necessary as her breasts were firm and the dress dipped too far in the front and back anyway.

  Then, on to the shoe department where Allison chose a pair of three-inch black patent leather sandals with rhinestones embedded along the two narrow straps that crossed the top and matched the dress.

  Allison was a whirlwind, leading the way as Sylvie followed. Sylvie ended up spending a fortune. Allison had that way about her—an ability to convince people to do things they'd never do otherwise. She was always doing that to Sylvie. This time was no exception.

  Usually, Sylvie wore her hair in an upswept, tight chignon that contained every lock neatly restrained. She was vain enough to enjoy having long hair, but not adventurous enough to wear it down at work. She didn't want to appear unbusinesslike in the office. Control was more easily maintained with a professional, no-nonsense appearance.

  But Allison was adamant. She wanted Sylvie to wear her hair down. It now fell in dark curls to her shoulders, held back by two rhinestone-studded combs.

  Sylvie didn't recognize the woman in the mirror. And she wanted to pull the dress off and change into something more conservative. There was something about the reflection that frightened her. Yet she also felt a flutter of excitement. And those mixed feelings confused her. As she was about to unhook the back, the doorbell rang. It was probably Allison. Too late to change.

  Sylvie opened the door to a red bombshell waiting to explode. Allison always made a statement, but the dress she wore no
w was ... well, Sylvie wasn't sure she could even call it a dress.

  "OhmyGod! Sylvie, you look great. I knew it!” Allison reached out a hand to fluff Sylvie's hair. “There, that's better. Looks like you just got out of bed ... or are ready to hop into one.” Allison's eyes glinted, a spark of the devil in them.

  "God, Allison, is that a dress?” Red spandex curved and curled around Allison, hugging her like a second skin. The skirt was just long enough to cover her curvy hips and bottom, but not much more than that. “Are you wearing anything under that?"

  Allison grinned. “Hell, no. We're not at the office now, Sylvie, we're out to make an impression. We are hot. Are you ready?"

  "Let me just get my coat."

  They rode down in the elevator to the parking garage where Allison's little red Miata was parked.

  "So, how do you feel? That dress looks great. And with your long, tanned legs, wow. You're going to have them drooling."

  "I'm not so sure about this. I feel so ... exposed. I feel naked.” She wrapped her coat closer around her.

  Allison flashed perfect white teeth. “Yeah, but don't you feel ... well, sensual? Do you like the texture of that silk rubbing against your breasts? Doesn't it excite you? Just a little?"

  "I can't believe you're asking me that.” Sylvie felt the heat rush into her cheeks. The feel of the silk as it slid across her unbound breasts when she walked was arousing, and her nipples were tight and sensitive. It was almost as if Allison could read her mind.

  "Why not? You shouldn't be ashamed of feeling sexy.” Allison was silent for a moment. “Sylvie, this party we're going to. It's not like your usual parties.” Her tone had changed, and it worried Sylvie.

  "What do you mean? Where are we going? This isn't some kind of orgy is it?"

  "Oh, it's very upscale. Nothing sleazy or anything. But I'm into a scene I've never told you about. And I think from what you told me the other day, you might find it interesting."

  Little shivers traced along her spine. “What are you saying, Allison? I don't understand."

  Allison let out a deep sigh. “Okay. But don't make any judgments until you understand a little more. This is your first party, so no one is going to expect anything, okay? I'm into some ... let's call them alternative sexual experiences."

  "What?” Sylvie turned to look at her more fully. “Are you talking same-sex? Threesomes? Or do you mean, hitting, hurting, that kind of thing? I think you better turn this car around and take me back to my apartment right now. What in the world are you setting me up for?"

  Sylvie gripped the door handle tightly, trying to gain some composure. Didn't Allison realize her father had been that type of person? Controlling, abusive, destructive? That he'd been warped? How could she think Sylvie would be interested in something like that?

  "No, no, nothing like that. At least not in the way you're thinking. See what I mean? You always assume the worst without knowing all the facts. I want you to keep an open mind. No one is going to force you to do something you don't want to do. I only wanted you to come with me to see if there's a chance something might appeal to you."

  "I don't know, Allison. You've got me scared now. You know I'm not the sexually adventurous type. And as far as control—well, you know how I feel about that."

  "Sylvie, no one is going to tie you up and beat you. You're just going to get to know some people and get a bit of an introduction to the way it works. I know most of the people that will be there, so don't worry. I trust them. Just sit back and relax. You trust me, don't you? You know I wouldn't put you in a situation that was dangerous, right? Where you would be hurt?"

  Sylvie slowly nodded. Allison was her friend—she wouldn't endanger her. Sylvie still had misgivings, but she did trust her. In fact, Allison was probably the only person she did trust. She'd go, keep to herself, and then go home, and back to her reserved life. That would be that.

  An unexpected flicker of curiosity flashed through her. It might be intriguing just to observe. She'd always heard about these kinds of parties, but usually in hushed conversations. It couldn't hurt anything if she just stood at the sidelines and watched what went on, could it? It most certainly would add to her education, she thought wryly.

  Why in the world did her stomach flutter? She gazed down at her hands and found they trembled. But was it fear or excitement—or both? Something was about to change for her—she just couldn't decide if it was good or bad.

  CHAPTER 2

  He was bored. There'd been few challenges lately. He'd come to this particular party out of a sense of duty to his friend, Joseph. As he scanned the usual crowd, he saw nothing that peaked his curiosity, nothing that pulled him from his ennui. He was about to make his excuses to Joseph, when his attention was captured by new arrivals.

  He recognized the blonde poured into the red spandex, but not the brunette. His mouth watered, his gaze sharpened. Did she belong to the blonde? He knew Allison Hunter, not intimately because Allison was a self-professed top, a woman who expected to be in full control in her relationships. Daimaen preferred a true submissive, a bottom. The dark-haired beauty wore no collar or other mark of ownership. In fact, he'd never seen her before. His prowling instincts stepped into high gear. Thank God he hadn't left sooner. Unless of course, she was also a top, or if she was already spoken for, then he'd back off. Slowly he made his way over to them.

  "Allison, you've brought a friend? Is she yours?” He studied the brunette standing next to Allison, whose manner was uncertain, hesitant. He wouldn't waste time with pleasantries. If she was unattached, he'd stake his claim quickly. No one would challenge him, he was well-known as a Master—and he'd found her first.

  He saw Allison's well-defined eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Daimaen. Well ... I'm surprised. We don't see you at many of these parties anymore."

  He smiled politely, his eyes never leaving the brunette. “No, I'm here as a favor to Joseph.” Slowly he tore his gaze away from the brunette. “Your ... friend?” he prompted again.

  "Yes, she's my very good friend. Nothing more. She's unattached. This is her first party and we've only just arrived."

  The brunette was brand new to the scene. His cock tightened with interest. He noted her nervousness. She stared at the floor, and her hands kept smoothing the skirt of her sexy dress. She was lovely.

  "Introduce us, Allison."

  "Sylvie, this is Daimaen. He's very well respected in my circle, as well as rich and powerful.” Then she looked at Daimaen. “Daimaen, this is my friend, Sylvie, well-off financially, powerful in her job, well-liked. But I think she's looking for something a little different. Maybe you're just the one to help her find it."

  "It would be my pleasure, Allison. Thank you for the introduction.” Daimaen reached for Sylvie's hand. It was delicate and fine-boned, but cold. He linked her arm through his. “Please, I'd like to get to know you better. A drink perhaps?” He saw the desperate glance she threw to Allison.

  Allison nodded encouragingly. “It's okay, Sylvie. He's not going to hurt you. Just get acquainted. In the meantime, I'm going to circulate.” Allison gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder before leaving them alone.

  "Sylvie, I'm not going to eat you up. I just want to talk with you."

  "I'm not sure this is such a good idea. I probably shouldn't have come at all."

  "Why did you come?"

  She looked up at him. His breath caught. She had the most unusual eyes of silver framed by thick dark lashes. His instinct was to peel that sexy little black dress from her body right now. The hinting shadow of her curves was driving him crazy.

  "I honestly don't know why I came. Allison can be very ... persuasive."

  "Yes, I expect she can be.” He guided her to the wet bar. “Would you like something to drink? Let me guess.” His eyes surveyed her from her head down to her pink-polished toenails. “Chablis. Something light, yet sophisticated, I think, slightly sweet, but not overpoweringly so. No ice, and very wet."

  His innuendo
was not lost on her. He saw her shiver slightly. Good. She offered him a nervous smile. “You're very sure of yourself, aren't you?"

  He shrugged. “Perhaps. I like to think I can read people well. Their likes and dislikes.” His eyes bore into her silver depths. “I want to know your likes and dislikes.” He handed her the glass of wine and their fingers touched. Then he lowered his head to whisper in her ear. “I particularly want to know your fears, your fantasies, Sylvie.” He straightened and again looped her free arm through his. “Come, we'll sit and talk. No one will bother us."

  She glanced up at him. Her breathing had changed rhythm. He smiled. She was excited, but wasn't willing to admit it yet. It was a promising sign. He led her to an overstuffed beige chair that had recently been vacated. “Please, sit."

  "What about you?” Hesitantly she sat down.

  "I'll stand next to you.” He leaned negligently against the chair and leaned forward. “I want you to be comfortable."

  "I was comfortable standing."

  "Hmm, maybe. But you'll be more comfortable sitting. I think those heels on your pretty feet will cause you problems if you aren't careful. Are they new?"

  She looked down at her feet and nodded. “Yes, Allison insisted."

  "As is your very sexy outfit I presume?"

  An attractive pink blush stained her cheeks. “Yes, I'm afraid so. I don't feel comfortable in it. I feel rather naked.” The color in her cheeks turned darker. “Oh, Lord, I don't know why I told you that. I don't usually blurt something out like that to a perfect stranger."

  "You look very beautiful,” he assured her. “Maybe subconsciously you don't think of me as a stranger. I think I'll take you to dinner. Somewhere quieter, more intimate. This gathering makes you nervous."

  He saw the uncertain flitter in her eyes. Yet there was also excitement. He knew women, and he could tell she liked the subtle control he was exerting. She found it exciting. It was what he'd hoped.