An Illicit Seduction: a Dark Erotic Experience

by Chencia C. Higgins

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Synopsis

  CHAPTER ONE The Before

  CHAPTER TWO The Brunch

  CHAPTER THREE The Pajama Jam

  CHAPTER FOUR Dream or Nightmare

  CHAPTER FIVE Laying Claim

  CHAPTER SIX Explain Yourself

  CHAPTER SEVEN Bang My Line

  CHAPTER EIGHT Work Husband

  CHAPTER NINE Family Matters

  CHAPTER TEN Barbecue Booty

  CHAPTER ELEVEN The Remedy

  CHAPTER TWELVE The Final Fuck

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN The Buddy System

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN Cursebreaker

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN Her Damon

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN Another Again

  About The Author

  More From Chencia

  AN ILLICIT SEDUCTION

  Chencia C. Higgins

  Copyright © 2020 Chencia C. Higgins

  www.therealchencia.com

  Editing: Little Pear Editing

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writers’ imagination, or have been used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locations, or organizations is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles or reviews. All rights reserved.

  "I can't even see straight until I've had my face in between your legs."

  After a night of heavy drinking with her coworkers, Seraph succumbs to an erotic dream in which she experiences unbridled pleasure beyond her wildest imagination. It’s a brand of filth that she enjoys but is undoubtedly wrong, though she can't rationalize why. What she does know is that she can’t deny how euphoric it feels and that she may not want it to stop.

  When she awakens mid-climax, she comes face-to-face with a nightmare that she can’t escape. At every turn, he’s there and won’t take no for an answer. As she is relentlessly pursued, her defenses crumble until she surrenders in defeat—just as he intended.

  An Illicit Seduction is not a romance. It is not a love story with a guaranteed happily ever after. It is a dark, erotic tale intended for mature readers at least 18+ and contains taboo themes, explicitly non-consensual sex scenes, and strong language.

  Oh, and a little voodoo too.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The Before

  “Hey, Seraph. Do you have a minute?”

  Looking up from the spreadsheets covering the surface of her desk, Seraph twisted in her chair to face the woman standing in the doorway of her office. She pushed her thick passion twists out of her face, flicking the ends over her shoulder, and smiled. “Sure, what’s up?”

  Jaime settled into one of the chairs in front of Seraph’s desk and sat forward. “Well, as you know, my annual pajama party is coming up, and I was thinking about inviting Damon.”

  Seraph nodded, hoping that Jaime didn’t think she needed to ask her permission to extend the invitation. “I’m sure he’d love it.” She didn’t know a man who wouldn’t.

  Jaime nodded. “Right. Well, the thing is he’s so quiet that I haven’t really had a chance to talk to him, and I was wondering if you could just bring him with you.”

  Tilting her head as if she didn’t understand the question, Seraph observed the woman whom she’d worked with for over twelve years. This was an uncharacteristic request. Jaime had such a bold personality that she rarely met a person who didn’t immediately fall under her spell, so this hesitance threw her for a loop. And—not that Jaime would know—asking Damon to attend a party like Jaime’s Pajama Jam with her would be awkward as hell.

  “I don’t understand how his being quiet would keep you from inviting him…” she trailed off as a sheepish look crept onto Jaime’s face and a light bulb clicked on. Seraph laughed, shaking her head at her coworker and friend. “Oh my gosh! You like him. Is that why you’re in here with this crappy excuse?”

  Covering her face, Jaime giggled as she nodded, her wash and go curls bobbing with each movement. “Yessss. He’s so fine I can’t stand it, and those damn dimples get me every time!”

  Jaime’s voice had taken on a high-pitched tone, and her tawny cheeks were tinged pink at her revelation. Seraph was tickled by her reaction. Jaime had a new office crush every other month, and it was hilarious that Damon was the latest object of her affection. Jaime had started with the company the same year as Seraph, but while Seraph was an account manager in the sales department, Jaime was an event coordinator from marketing, and she excelled at her position. A couple of years younger than Seraph’s thirty-six, Jaime had come to the company straight out of undergrad and started as a receptionist, eventually working her way up the corporate ladder.

  “That still doesn’t explain why you’re telling me how you’re thinking about inviting him instead of just…inviting him.”

  “Oh! Well, I wanted to run it by you first…just to make sure I wasn’t stepping on any toes.”

  “Stepping on toes?” she repeated, confused by Jaime’s words. What in the world did that mean?

  Fake-pouting, Jaime asked, “You’re going to make me say it?”

  Seraph shrugged her shoulders. “I’m afraid so; I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Jaime sighed then licked her lips. “Well, I kind of assumed that you two might have something going on…”

  Seraph’s eyes ballooned as Jaime’s meaning hit her. Then, she began shaking her head emphatically. “What?! Girl, no. We do not—are not—we’re just—” She stopped talking before she could say too much. Laughing a little at herself, she rolled her eyes and made eye contact with Jaime. “Damon and I do not have anything going on. There are no toes to step on over here.”

  Jaime eyed her skeptically, and Seraph wondered what, if anything, had Damon been saying that this was even on anyone’s mind. He had been a programmer for the company for maybe three months, but their departments didn’t interact at all, so they barely saw each other. They occasionally had lunch together but always opted for an off-site restaurant instead of the cafe in the lobby of their building. Seraph knew the few minutes of them walking to and from the elevator didn’t give off any romantic vibes. It couldn’t. So, what was going on?

  “Are you sure? If that’s you, I won’t mind—hell, I’d understand!”

  Seraph’s laugh was loud in the small room that felt larger than it was because of the wall of windows on her left. “Jaime. Girl. No. I’ve watched him play video games for hours with a pair of underwear on his head. I can promise you that I am not in the way of whatever you want to pursue with him.”

  For anyone else, this would have been the weirdest conversation they’d ever had, hands down, but for Seraph, this was just a regular Tuesday. Damon drew attention and whenever Seraph was with him, women felt bold enough to ask her about him. She figured that was usually because they could tell that he wasn’t her man. This particular incident was a new one, but the sentiment was the same.

  There was a short knock on her door before it swung open to reveal the very man they were discussing. Speak of the devil, she thought as she raised her brows in question. It didn’t take much thought to deduce the reason he’d come to her office, but after Jaime’s questions—and skepticism—Seraph was wary of how things between them came off.

  With just one look, it was clear why Jaime—and many other women around the office—wanted him. With his smooth, sepia-toned skin, perfectly round bald head and connecting beard and mustache, he was pure perfection. Add in cavernous
dimples that only appeared when he smiled, thick thighs, and a strong back, Damon was the literal existence of fantasies. Seraph could objectively agree that Damon was attractive, but she still couldn’t reconcile his current grown man status with the little boy she had known since she was a teenager.

  It didn’t help that when she left for college, Damon was nine-years-old, but when Seraph returned six years later, he was nowhere to be found, having gone to live with his mother in Dallas. He’d attended high school in Dallas and then immediately left for a local university in that area. Seraph didn’t see him again until he was twenty-three when she ran into him at her mother’s house on a random Saturday. That was four years ago, and she hadn’t seen him consistently until he relocated back to Houston shortly before he started working for Seraph’s company. It was only recently that she began seeing him regularly and that was because they worked together. She didn’t witness his rise to adolescence and puberty, so her brain still held on to the image of him as a nine-year-old.

  “Sorry for interrupting.”

  Damon’s low voice pulled her out of her thoughts, and Seraph shook her head and smiled. “It’s alright. How can I help you?”

  “I—uh,” his eyes flickered from Seraph to Jaime then back to Seraph. “I stopped by to see if you wanted to join me for lunch…but it looks like you’re busy, so—”

  “Hey, Damon,” Jaime cooed, looking back and forth between him and Seraph.

  Seraph pursed her lips at the knowing look that Jaime was aiming her way. Jaime didn’t know anything and had been far off base, but this didn’t help make Seraph’s case. Any other day, she would have agreed without hesitation, but since Jaime was present—and currently staring an eager hole into the side of her face—she simply gave Damon an apologetic smile.

  “Thanks for the offer, Damon, but unfortunately, I have a previous engagement for lunch.” Jaime quirked an eyebrow, and Seraph bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud.

  “Oh, but hey! Jaime’s free. Why don’t the two of you go to lunch instead?” Seraph pasted a wide smile on her face and took in each of their expressions. Jaime had a hopeful grin on her face, but Damon looked dumbfounded. “It will give you guys a chance to get to know each other better, and Jaime can tell you all about the Pajama Jam at the end of the month.”

  Damon shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “Pajama Jam?”

  Seraph nodded and shuffled the papers around on her desk, studiously ignoring the disappointment on his face.

  “Yeah,” Jaime added. “It’s an annual party I throw every year for the grown and sexy. You’ve got the sexy part down, but why don’t we go to that Mexican place around the corner and you let me decide if you’re grown enough?”

  He laughed and those dimples sprang out, causing Jaime to fan herself with her hand.

  At Jaime’s theatrics, Seraph stood and shooed the both of them out of her office and waved them off before closing her door and sighing with relief.

  Playing matchmaker wasn’t her favorite role, but what harm could come from helping two single people to let nature take its course?

  CHAPTER TWO

  The Brunch

  At least one Sunday a month, Seraph and her trio of best friends Vanessa, Sierra, and Twyla set aside a few hours in their busy schedules to get together and relax. They temporarily suppressed the stress from their careers, significant others, and other demands of their time to enjoy a good meal and great conversation. This particular Sunday found them at Lakeside Lounge in Fourth Ward. There had been a forty-five-minute wait for a table, but according to the reviews, the wait was worth it. The seafood-themed menu never disappointed; the drinks were top shelf—and bottomless—and the DJ knew his way around a set of turntables. The four women bopped in their seats as they placed their orders for appetizers and bottomless mimosas.

  Twyla was the first to speak after sipping on the water that the server had delivered as soon as they sat down. “Lord, y’all don’t even know how bad I needed this outing.”

  “Work stressing you out that much?” Vanessa asked.

  Nodding, Twyla cringed. “Worse.”

  Seraph frowned. Twyla was a kindergarten teacher at Bright Horizons, a prestigious, private elementary school, and although it seemed like a place that would have fewer issues than a public institution, according to Twyla—who had attended both public and private schools growing up—the rich folks were the most difficult to deal with.

  “Is it the kids or the parents this time?”

  “The parents,” she replied quickly. “Always the parents.”

  She paused as the server placed a pitcher of pineapple mimosas and a basket of crawfish-stuffed cornbread muffins on the table. He took everyone’s meal order and disappeared, quickly weaving through the bistro-style tables and pub chairs that filled the center of the restaurant’s dining room. Along the perimeter of the room, perched on wooden platforms, were half-moon booths wide enough to house at least six adults, and through a set of opened French doors, half a dozen cabanas outfitted with turquoise cushions and umbrellas could be seen on the back patio. With the warm spring breeze filtering in through the open doors on either side of the restaurant and high-energy hip-hop beats to keep its patrons rocking in their seats, Lakeside Lounge was the perfect place for a late morning outing.

  As the women chatted and enjoyed their drinks and appetizers, their server delivered their meals in less than twenty minutes, and the conversation shifted from work stress to appreciation for their food while they ate. Seraph was attacking her wild gulf shrimp and smoked Gouda grits with gusto when Sierra tapped her arm to get her attention.

  “Hey, isn’t that Damon?”

  Directing her gaze to Sierra’s pointed stiletto nails, Seraph twisted around in her seat and craned her neck toward the front of the restaurant. Sure enough, it was Damon. He stood near the host podium in a cluster with five other men. There was a slight grin on his face as he shook his head while the other men laughed. They were all dressed accordingly as Lakeside had a strict no denim or leisurewear policy, and Seraph was impressed that there wasn’t one tennis shoe in the bunch. When her neck began to strain, she returned to face her friends.

  “Yeah, that’s him.”

  “How long has he been back?” Vanessa asked as she peeled open a large crawfish and popped the juicy tail meat in her mouth.

  Seraph’s eyebrows met contemplatively as she tried to remember. “About six months, I think.”

  “How’s he doing at NexTech?”

  “Really well. His department manager stopped by after a meeting last month and thanked me again for referring him. He said that Damon is a natural at programming and has made his job less stressful.”

  “Aww,” Sierra sang, “that’s so sweet. I’m glad it’s working out for him.”

  Swallowing a mouthful of grits, Seraph nodded. “Me too.”

  Their server stopped by and dropped off a fresh pitcher of mimosas as if on cue, and Seraph quickly refilled her glass before digging back into her bowl. She was sucking the savory, spicy sauce from the shrimp off of one of her fingers when Sierra called her name.

  “Huh?”

  “You’re not going to wave to him or anything?”

  She frowned and shook her head. “I’m eating, SiSi. I can say hey to him at any time.” Returning her attention back to her food, she felt Sierra’s stare as she picked up her spoon and scooped a mound of grits into her mouth. Glancing at her, she noticed Sierra’s pursed lips and rolled her eyes playfully.

  Catching on to the exchange, Twyla shook her head, and her pink-painted lips curved into an amused grin.

  Sierra pouted. “Shit. I was hoping your ass would be sociable today so I can get a better look at his fine ass.”

  The other three women erupted into laughter and Sierra joined in.

  “I’m serious!”

  Rolling her eyes again, Seraph pointed her empty spoon at the woman who—along with Vanessa—had been one of her closest friends since
they met in college more than fifteen years ago. “Am I not enjoying a social meal with my girlfriends?”

  Swiping her auburn, asymmetrical bangs from her eyes, Sierra gave Seraph a look that clearly said duh. “Well, yeah, but I want you to be extra sociable for two minutes so I can devour some eye candy up close and personal-like.” Her eyes flicked over Seraph’s shoulder again and she made a satisfied clucking sound in the back of her throat. “Hell, his friends look fine too. Matter of fact, call all of those niggas over!”

  “Damn, SiSi!” Twyla giggled. She had joined their trio five years earlier after meeting Vanessa and hitting it off at a gym that catered to plus-size women. Even though she was a few years younger than the other three, she fit in as if she was the long-lost fourth member to their Destiny’s Child. “What does Devin think about your eye candy addiction?”

  Sierra frowned, and Seraph joined in on Twyla’s laughter.

  “Ask her again, T.”

  “Man, whatever. My man doesn’t mind me looking because he knows that’s all it is. Besides,” she added, shooting a sly look over to Seraph before picking up her glass and bringing it to her lips, “it’s not like Damon would be interested even if I was checking for him like that. We all know who he wants.”

  “Oop!” Vanessa’s eyes bucked and she rolled her lips into her mouth to stave off a laugh.

  Seraph narrowed her eyes, and all four women sat in silence, two sets of eyes bouncing between her and Sierra before the two of them simultaneously burst into laughter.

  “You tried it, bitch.”

  “Tried to set the truth free,” Sierra murmured under her breath, and although Seraph heard her, she let the slick comment go without acknowledgment.

  They let the conversation drop and resumed eating, but a moment later, the tapping of Vanessa’s long, acrylic nails on the glazed, wooden tabletop grabbed their attention.