by K D Grace
Glaring at Vivienne was such an unusually honest sensation that for a second Lorelei felt a flood of relief. But it was short-lived. Vivienne jerked down the zipper of the hoodie and grabbed her breasts, squeezing and kneading, pinching her nipples, shoving her backward with every pinch. ‘You stupid little slut,’ she breathed, ‘I warned you that Edward would never be yours, didn’t I?’ There was another resounding slap, this time across Lorelei’s breasts. Lorelei stumbled backward and her left foot slipped out of the loose-fitting flip-flop.
She barely caught her balance before Vivienne grabbed her face and kissed her as though she were trying to climb right inside her, tongue first, pushing her back until she was in danger of falling onto the bed behind her. ‘I told you. He’s mine. He never really wanted you. He just likes easy sluts. And you were the easiest, the way you flaunt your bouncy tits with your nipples all pointy and hard.’ She shoved a hand inside the sweat bottoms and jammed a finger into Lorelei’s pussy, making her jump. ‘You’re always slippery, always pouting, like a bitch on heat.’
She kissed her once more, even harder, and bit her lip as she came up gasping. ‘Fight back, damn it! She would. You know she would.’ She slapped Lorelei again, hard enough to make her ears ring, hard enough to ignite the explosion that was long overdue.
‘You vile bitch!’ The words burst from Lorelei’s throat with more ease, and much more pleasure, than she would have thought possible. She stepped aside and shoved Vivienne face-first on to the bed, then wedged her arm behind her back none too gently. ‘You may own Edward, but you don’t own me.’ She picked up the flip-flop that had fallen off her foot and brought it down with a hard thwack against Vivienne’s bare bottom.
Vivienne yelped and bucked on the bed uttering muffled curses into the mattress, but Lorelei held her fast as she brought the shoe down again and again, until Vivienne’s lovely bottom was bright pink. She uttered a chesty moan as she squirmed, and Lorelei got an exquisite view of her swollen pussy, pouting open, begging wet.
With a surge of power that went straight to her own pussy, Lorelei smacked her bottom again then jammed two rough fingers inside her pout and began to scissor. ‘Sooner or later when you fuck with people, they’re gonna fuck back.’ Lorelei found herself doing a poor imitation of Rita’s American accent. She leaned over and whispered into Vivienne’s ear, ‘You fucked with me, you bitch, now I’m gonna return the favour.’ She rammed a third finger into Vivienne’s cunt and Vivienne nearly bounced them both off the bed as her first orgasm hit. Bloody hell! How many times had Lorelei seen Vivienne come – even made Vivienne come, but she’d never seen the woman like this. She pulled her fingers out and licked them, making Vivienne watch.
Still quivering all over, Vivienne lifted her bottom higher, opening her legs until the pillowed slick swell of her trembled like an invitation.
‘You want your hole filled, don’t you?’ Lorelei chuckled. ‘It would be my pleasure.’ She grabbed up her panties from the floor and bound Vivienne’s hands behind her back. Then she left her, writhing bottom up, while she rummaged through the drawer of the bedside table for her strap-on. The crotch of the sweat bottoms was already wet and slippery. She’d always heard that power was an aphrodisiac, but she hadn’t imagined it would be anything this hot.
She made Vivienne watch while she stroked the damp pout of her lips through the crotch of the sweats. That alone would have been enough to make her come, but she had better things in mind. She stepped out of the bottoms and slipped into the strap-on. Once it was secure, she manhandled Vivienne onto her knees in front of her cock. ‘Suck me, bitch, suck me the way you did Edward that first night in front of the council.’ She grabbed her by the hair and forced her lips toward the cock. With a little whine so out of character for the head of the High Council, Vivienne did as she was told, leaving bright smears of expensive lippy all along the length of the shaft.
Vivienne deep-throated the strap-on like it was the tastiest cock she’d ever had, and Lorelei’s pussy got even slicker at the sight. With each thrust of the strap-on, she clenched her pussy muscles, and the harder she clenched, the deeper Vivienne took her in. ‘Please,’ Vivienne gasped, when she came up for air. ‘Please, Rita, put it in me. I need it in me.’
It was a bit unsettling to be called Rita, but Lorelei had done her fair share of role playing, like everyone else at The Mount. And in some small twisted way, she felt she was making up for some of what she had done to Rita. She chuckled. ‘Certainly. You are head of the High Council after all. I hear and obey.’ She looked around the room and saw that the dressing table was just about the right height. She shoved make-up bag, perfume bottles, brushes, and curling iron off onto the floor with a loud crash, then pushed Vivienne over the top of the table until her bare bottom was at exactly the right height. With one knee, she shoved her legs apart until her snatch pouted like an open mouth begging to be satisfied. Vivienne ground her pubis against the table and her desperate whimpers sounded more animal than human.
But she deserved to suffer. Lorelei slapped each of her arse cheeks in turn with the stiff cock, then brought it up between her legs and slapped her begging pussy until Vivienne was in a frenzy, her cunt gripping and grasping blindly for the cock each time it slapped her. Her whimpers became sobs of frustration as Lorelei teased her lips open with the tip of the cock just enough to hint at how good it would feel buried deep in her pussy. ‘Please,’ Vivienne begged. ‘Please, Rita, don’t torture me so. I can’t stand it. Please put it in me.’
‘Oh I’ll put it in you, you bitch. I’ll put it in you like you’ve never had it.’ With her hand, Lorelei gave the strap-on an extra coating of her own saliva, then bending quickly, she spat against Vivienne’s anus, and before there was time for protests, Lorelei spread the woman’s tender buttocks like two halves of a peach and shoved the cock into the pulsing O of her pucker.
The scream that ripped at Vivienne’s throat, was pain and pleasure well balanced, and Lorelei grabbed her hips to keep from being catapulted across the room by the aftershock of another orgasm. The force of Vivienne grinding back against her made her come too and they both shuddered together until at last Vivienne collapsed over the dressing table with a sigh.
Lorelei spoke next to her ear. ‘So you don’t just want to be me, you want to be fucked by me. Who knew?’ She gave her one last hard poke up the back hole with the strap-on then pulled out. ‘Consider yourself lucky, bitch. Edward has to fuck you, but I don’t.’
Lorelei felt it the minute she’d said it, the shifting of power brought on by one sentence too many. She stood back still struggling to catch her breath, but she was well aware that the racing of her heart now had nothing to do with sex.
‘Untie me.’ Vivienne’s voice was icy enough that Lorelei needed no further convincing that the game was over. She did as she was told. Vivienne stood rubbing her wrists, her gaze never leaving Lorelei. Quickly, she slipped into the kimono that lay draped over the chair of the dressing table and yanked the sash tight as though it had done something offensive. ‘Get out.’ Her voice was beyond anger. Lorelei knew the tone. Vivienne didn’t have to show anger when the punishment she was, no doubt, already devising in her head would show it so much more effectively. And as sure as night would bring darkness, Lorelei knew with a cold clench in her gut that her punishment for knowing what she shouldn’t know, for doing only what she was told would be ugly indeed.
Chapter Twenty-seven
When Rita woke it was early afternoon. She hadn’t realised just how tired she’d been. Her mother wasn’t kidding about the crash course in coven law. For two solid days they had poured over the volumes. Her room was piled with the books her mother had managed to conjure out of nowhere, one of the benefits of being head of the High Council, she had said.
At present, Coraline Martelli was nowhere to be found. But her belongings were strewn all over the front room, and for two days Kate had been bouncing off the walls with excitement over the dance lessons the woman had arr
anged for her to have with Alex. Yes, Coraline Martelli was definitely in town.
Rita had just got out of the shower when the doorbell rang. She slipped into her robe and found Lidia, standing shyly in front of her. The pony-tail high on the back of her head was losing the battle to contain her wispy blonde hair, and her pail goose-fleshed arms were folded protectively around her body as though she were cold. Her smile out-brightened her tired appearance
‘Ms Holly, I’m sorry to bother, but I wanted you to know that I will no longer work here after first of the month. I have cousin who works at the Ritz. She found me a better job there in the kitchen.’ The girl blushed pink to the roots of her hair. ‘I am good cook.’
‘That’s wonderful, Lidia. Good luck. We’ll miss you, but the Ritz is a nice hotel.’
‘Your boss, Mr Owen, he goes there. My cousin, she delivers room service. She says he has a suite, and there he meets some beautiful woman with a very strange name, I don’t know, maybe Loral Hie or something. You know this woman?’
Lidia suddenly had Rita’s undivided attention.
‘Mr Owen say to my cousin this Loral Hie works at The Mount. You know The Mount?’
‘Oh yes. I know The Mount. I don’t suppose Mr Owen told your cousin what he and this Loral Hie were doing there at the Ritz?’
Lidia stepped closer and glanced about to make sure no one was listening. Then she spoke in a near whisper. ‘Men like Mr Owen, they always have pretty woman, you know? He’s good-looking man, yes?
He’s a slimy bastard, Rita thought, but she smiled encouragingly at Lidia. Bless her heart, she had no idea what a big help she was being.
The woman continued. ‘My cousin says they were having, how you say, a nooner, you know?’ Lidia demonstrated by poking the index finger of her right hand in and out of the circle formed by the thumb and index finger of her other hand. ‘They have lots of nooners there at the Ritz, my cousin says. But Mr Owen, he tells my cousin that is very important business they were doing.’
Rita nodded sagely. ‘Oh very important, I have no doubt.’
She wished Lidia well, then went to the kitchen in search of coffee and something to eat. Suddenly she had an appetite. She had just buttered her toast when her mother blew in heavily laden with shopping bags.
‘You wouldn’t believe the latest news.’ She hoisted the shopping onto the already buried sofa. ‘Talkabout is in an uproar. Seems your dear Owen Frank is unavailable for comment on the controversial exposé.’ She plopped a bulging bag of pastries from the bakery around the corner down onto the table and turned up her nose at the instant coffee jar sitting on the counter. ‘At the moment, the response from The Mount is to laugh. They’re saying the whole thing is too ridiculous to even consider, and they wonder why Owen Frank would let such a story into his magazine.’ She rummaged through the cupboard until she found the mocha maker. ‘And, get this, they’re claiming never to have heard of a Rita Holly. Can you imagine?’ Her mother sighed as though she had just heard the best news ever, then she went about the business of making real coffee. ‘Rita, dear, I may just buy you your own magazine yet. You’d be great as owner of Talkabout.’
Over good Italian espresso and fresh pain au chocolat Rita told her mother about her conversation with Lidia. They were like teenagers gossiping and giggling, and Rita realised how much she had missed that since she’d left Seattle. Perhaps it if had happened more often, she wouldn’t have left home. Her mother stood to put on another pot of espresso. ‘I know I promised to let you handle this, Rita, but what I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall when Vivienne gets what’s coming to her.’
Rita wasn’t as certain as her mother. Vivienne always had an ace up her sleeve, and she couldn’t fight the niggle at the back of her mind that once again her mother had come to the rescue. ‘Mama?’
‘Yes dear.’
‘If I’m able to override Vivienne’s banishment and all is forgiven, and if I’m made a full-fledged member of The Mount, am I getting in because of you?’
Her mother plopped down in the chair next to her. ‘No one gets into The Mount because of anyone else.’ She held Rita in her intense dark gaze. ‘No matter how many generations their family has been in The Mount, each person must pass the initiation entirely on their own.’ She offered a bright smile. ‘And from what I’ve heard, you already passed the initiation with flying colours. Even Vivienne can’t fault your service to her. That’s why she had to cheat to get rid of you.’
Most of the shopping had been for Rita, and her mother knew almost as much about fashion as she did about perfume. The dress was midnight blue, off the shoulder. It slinked and clung to Rita’s curves like a second skin. In fact, it fitted like it had been made for her, and Rita figured it probably was. The jewellery was simple pearls. The dress needed nothing else. Her mother had flown her own hairdresser in to do Rita’s hair and make-up. Standing in front of the mirror gazing at the finished product, Rita had to admit, she looked stunning. ‘But how will I get in?’ She asked. ‘I’ve been banished, remember?’
Her mother affectionately smoothed a strand of her hair that didn’t really need smoothing and offered a happy sigh. ‘You’re going in through the front door, of course, like the Martelli heiress should, that is if you don’t mind condescending to use the Martelli name again. You have reservations. Rita Holly may have been banished, but Rita Martelli has not. Oh, by the way,’ she added as an afterthought, ‘you’ll be joined for drinks by the club owner.’
‘The club’s owner? I’ve been trying for weeks to find the club’s owner. Who is it?’
Her mother offered a Mona Lisa smile. ‘Rita, dear, you were looking in the wrong places. All you ever had to do was call me. I would have told you everything. But for now, let’s just make it a surprise. And remember, it’s not knowing what that bloody exposé says that’s the key to defeating Vivienne.’
Before Rita could question further, her mother’s mobile signalled a text. As she read it, the smile returned to her face. ‘Sorry about that dear, just some business I had to take care of. A foreclosure on a villa in Majorca. Seems Vivienne hasn’t been careful about who it was leased to.’ She sighed happily. ‘If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.’
Just then the doorbell rang. ‘That will be the limo, darling,’ her mother said. ‘A Martelli limo this time.’ She slipped her arm around her daughter’s waist and walked her to the door. ‘A couple of reporters saw you going into The Mount with Leo the other night and, well darling, they’re not stupid. They already suspect they’ve found the lost Martelli heiress. Cat’s almost out of the bag anyway, why not give them something to talk about?’ She gave her now speechless daughter a wink and sent her out the door.
Chapter Twenty-eight
For the second time in less than a fortnight, there was a feeling of déjà vu, as the limo pulled up in front of The Mount. Rita might be relying on the Martelli name to get her in the door, but in the end, she knew she would still be one hundred per cent reliant on plain old Rita Holly when it came to facing down Vivienne and proving her innocence.
The driver helped her out of the car. ‘Ms Martelli, shall I escort you to the door?’
Ms Martelli. Suddenly that name didn’t seem nearly so onerous to her. ‘That won’t be necessary, John. I’ll manage from here.’
There were whispers around her as she stepped on to the carpet and under the awning. She heard the Martelli name mentioned several times. Her mother was right. It was time to give them something to talk about,
The door man opened the door and as she entered, she was certain all eyes were on her. Mostly, Lorelei’s eyes were on her, her jaw dropped nearly to the desk where the reservations book lay open. Rita had never felt more proud of her heritage.
‘You have a reservation for Martelli. Rita Martelli.’
Lorelei gave several fish gasps before she regained control ‘But I thought –’
‘You thought the reservation was for my mother. A forgivable mis
take.’ Rita held Lorelei’s shocked gaze. ‘I’m told I’ll be joined by the club’s owner. I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to that meeting.’
Lorelei led her back to the private dining room, the same one where she had met Edward what seemed like a hundred years ago now. There, in a booth not terribly far from the one where Edward had shown her the best way to drink champagne, Lorelei seated her. Then she stood shifting from foot to foot, in her expensive shoes, as though she were waiting for Rita’s attention.
After what she deemed an appropriate amount of time to let the woman squirm, Rita asked, ‘Is there something else?’
‘I just wanted to say...’
‘Yes?’
‘I didn’t know. Honestly I didn’t.’
Rita smiled sweetly up at the woman, who suddenly seemed to be sweating through her peach taffeta. That’s OK, Lorelei. I’m pretty sure before the night’s over you’ll have a chance to make up for it, a chance I’m thinking you’ll want to take full advantage of. Now go get the owner, would you?’
Lorelei practically ran out of the dining room.
Rita didn’t have to wait long before Aurora came to her table with a bottle of Moet et Chandon on ice and two glasses. ‘Compliments of the owner,’ she said, the corner of her mouth almost twitching with what might have been a smile. ‘He apologises for making you wait, and will be joining you very shortly.’ She poured the champagne and left.
Rita barely had time to take in the smells and sounds of the lovely dining room and to sip the delicate champagne before a familiar voice came from behind her.
‘Sorry I’m late. But I had to go back to my suite for my mask.’ Edward slid into the booth next to her and pressed a warm kiss against her lips. ‘Welcome back, my darling, back to where you belong.’
