Work Text:
Lady Francesca Rochester knew temptation rarely arrived wearing horns or hissing like a snake. Sometimes, it wore a judge’s red robes and murmured seduction in a dulcet voice, lifted her against wooden desks, or tangoed with her across polished parquet floors beneath her husband’s watchful eye.
She craved the sweet taste of forbidden fruit, traced John’s Adam’s apple in his office, and savoured Ian’s inability to stop her when the first bite set her down the path to a condemned paradise.
Temptation wound herself into Fran’s smile, and the judge sworn to uphold justice bit the inside of her thigh.