The Marriage Possession. HELEN BIANCHIN

groan from his lips.

      Control…he had it. Yet she was fascinated to discover what it would take to break it.

      How far would he allow her to go?

      Seconds later it was her turn to gasp as he sought the satiny folds at the entrance to her femininity and latched on to the highly sensitised nub, initiating a deliberate stroking movement that sent her wild.

      Soon it wasn’t enough, and she was barely aware of urging his possession as sensation spiralled, sending her high…so high it was almost more than she could bear.

      ‘Now.’ Was that her voice begging for release? The part of her brain that engaged rationale insisted it had to be.

      ‘Not yet.’

      Oh, dear heaven. Yes. Otherwise she’d go insane with need.

      Except he wasn’t done. And she almost wept as he brought her to fever pitch…with his hands, his mouth in an oral supplication that blew her away, so far out of her mind she barely stifled an exultant scream as he entered her in one powerful thrust.

      Her vaginal muscles contracted, tightly sheathing him as she stretched to accommodate him. When he began to move, she met and matched his rhythm as shameless, pulsating emotion took them to an electrifying high, held them there, then tipped them over into a magically sensual nirvana that was erotic and exquisitely primitive.

      Treacherous, Lisane reflected later as she lay in Zac’s arms on the edge of sleep.

      Because she never wanted it to end.

      An inner voice silently demanded, ‘Does it have to?’

      Sadly, she didn’t have an answer.

      CHAPTER THREE

      THE day’s workload commanded all of Lisane’s attention, and it was mid-afternoon before news of a colleague’s promotion reached her ears.

      Well-deserved, given Sue’s attention to detail and unrelenting dedication to each case she handled.

      ‘Celebration time. Champagne on me. Tomorrow night?’ came through via inter-office email, and over the next hour responses indicated a resounding ‘yes’, followed by Sue’s instructions re time and place.

      The thought of a girls’ night out was a pleasurable one, and Lisane spent Tuesday evening making notations from various law books. Gradually, with steady persistence, she was gathering sufficient information to present a strong case. Together with covering every contingency opposing counsel might draw from.

      Even so, there was that edge, the knowledge she may have slipped up on one unexpected but important detail.

      It kept her up late, and resulted in pertinent dialogue with her superior next day.

      Consequently it was a relief to slip behind the wheel of her car and juggle peak hour traffic clogging the arterial roads leading from the city.

      She reached the cottage with an hour in which to shower, dress and be on the road again.

      Basic black was ‘go anywhere’ attire, and Lisane fixed her hair into a careless knot, applied blusher and lipgloss, then slid her feet into stilettos, collected her purse, her keys, and locked the front door before slipping in behind the wheel of her silver Golf.

      Traffic flow into the city was steady, and she parked beneath the inner-city hotel, then took the lift up to the Atrium lounge.

      Three of her associates were comfortably settled with drinks before them, and no sooner had Lisane greeted them than the final member of their coterie arrived.

      It was lovely to relax and unwind away from the office. To talk without the constant constraints of work, and they took their time before crossing into the restaurant.

      Champagne was the celebratory toast of choice, and Sue’s promotion was given due merit before a waiter delivered their starters.

      Fine food and drink, and good company. Who could ask for anything more of an evening spent with friends?

      The amazing thing in being the fabulous five, as they regarded themselves, was the friendship they shared in and out of the office. There was no element of envy, jealousy or the desire for one-upmanship…just five young women who got along.

      ‘Oh, my. Look who’s just walked in.’

      Someone of note, obviously, Lisane deduced as she discreetly turned her head, only to feel her stomach twist at the sight of Allegra in the company of her parents.

      Dressed to kill in a red cut-away cocktail gown that ventured into the almost-too-much-skin territory, Allegra resembled a catwalk model…confident, faintly aloof, and stunning.

      ‘Wow.’

      Sue’s hushed comment didn’t come close, and the questions followed in tandem.

      ‘No male partner?’

      ‘Maybe he’s joining them?’

      ‘The question is…who?’

      Speculative conjecture at its best…and discretion, given it was no secret Allegra had her eye on Zac Winstone.

      More than an eye, Lisane accorded silently. The female barrister was in for the kill, and didn’t care who knew it!

      ‘Uh-oh, she’s just picked up her cellphone.’

      ‘She’s smiling.’

      ‘The woman’s a bitch. In and out of the courtroom.’

      ‘OK, girls, let’s move it along, shall we?’

      Sue lifted her champagne flute. ‘Sure. Here’s to women doing it for themselves.’

      ‘Ah…you might like to rephrase that.’

      Amelie grinned. ‘Just checking you’re on the ball.’

      ‘Wicked.’

      ‘But fun.’

      Truly a girls’ night out, Lisane decided with a degree of humour. Memorable, in that their jobs dealt with serious issues within the parameters of the law. Where evil intent superceded good, and justice needed to be seen to be done. Not always successfully.

      Making it work was the challenge. Examining legal precedents in order to close any slight loopholes opposing counsel might offer. And above all, attempting to do one’s best for the client…whether guilty or innocent.

      ‘What are your thoughts on the Marshall case?’

      There was a collective groan. ‘Forbidden territory. Nothing, but nothing to do with work is going to escape our lips tonight.’

      There was a pause while the waiter delivered their mains, and Sue barely waited until he was out of earshot before voicing,

      ‘OK, so let’s have an update on the men in our lives.’

      The theme was familiar, Lisane mused. Lack of dedication to the relationship, little if any commitment, and emphasis on sex. Two young women in their group were content with the status quo, while one appeared misty-eyed and vowed she wanted the ring, marriage and family.

      ‘Lisane?’

      ‘Pass.’

      ‘Not good enough. Answer the question.’ Sue’s teasing mockery brought some light laughter, and Lisane entered into the spirit of the game.

      ‘Sorry, counsellor. Privileged information.’

      ‘Damn.’

      ‘Don’t look, but a serious hunk of a guy is being led towards Allegra’s table.’

      Lisane controlled the desire to check. Common sense reassured her that it couldn’t be Zac. But just for a few seconds the possibility didn’t seem beyond the realm of reality. The Winstone and Fabrisi families were legal and social equals, dedicated to charitable causes, and were frequently seen