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I let out little whimpers, as his swollen mouth trickles down to lick my neck before finding my nipple through my thin shirt, twirling until he leaves a big, wet mark.
When he reluctantly pulls away, I breathlessly look up at him underneath my lashes. My breasts are still plastered against his chest and blood pounds in my temples and I hide a hiss when his fingers brush my mound because I’m too sensitive right now to be touched.
“I’ll see you tonight,” he says in a severe, don’t give me any protests tone before he leaves. Once he’s gone I walk up to the house then into my bedroom and at the sight of all the nice stuff on my bed I forget all about Lucretia’s meanness.
There’s a white, shimmery dress laid out, together with silvery stilettos and some pieces of exclusive, emerald jewelry. My cheeks heat because he’s chosen lingerie for me too, that’s tiny and transparent and a little too raunchy.
I can’t wear that, can I..?
Normally no, but for Mr. Smith, I’d do anything... There’s four hours left to the party and I know that Lucretia is probably going to ask for my assistance, so I figure I should get ready. Just when I’m done with the finishing touches, I hear her screech out in the hallway as if on cue.
Taking a deep breath, I walk out from my room and at the sight of me, an envious shadow falls in front of Lucretia’s face.
“What do you think?” I ask, spinning around and she looks so provoked it seems like she’s about to explode. She’s wearing a black dress with spikes around the shoulders and a wide belt with a glittery skull for a buckle.
“You must think you’re so clever,” she snarls with clenched fists. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”
I stare at her. “What do you think I’m doing?”
At my confusion, she smirks then flings her head back. “Okay, I can play that game too.” She pierces her eyes into mine. “I need you to do my hair.”
“All right, just tell me what kind of hairstyle you want,” I say and she tilts her head to the side, showing me a photo on her phone. Not too intricate at least. I can probably manage. I help her out with her hair in my bathroom, because she says the wind will mess it up if she has to walk from her pool house back out into the mansion.
She’s surprisingly docile while I arrange it, no sarcastic remarks, no treating me like garbage. She’s actually pretty...pleasant.
“Shoot,” she says once I’m done with the hairspray and she looks at me with wide eyes.
“What is it?” I ask in concern and her shoulders slump.
“I forgot about the comb I want as decoration.” She bites her mouth that she glossed with something called lip venom. “It’s up in the attic, you have to go and get it.”
Inwardly I sigh. “Where in the attic?” I ask.
“In a box with my name on. The comb is covered in diamonds, you’ll find it quickly.”
Looking at the clock, it tells me its 45 minutes left to the party. Mr. Smith will be here any second now but I have time to get that comb.
“Be right back,” I say and she nods. The attic is three, smaller, curving staircases up that turn narrower the closer you come. Pushing the door open I’m hit by the smell of dust and there’s so much stuff in here, I can barely move and I’m determined to get out fast.
Looking around for that box, I curse inwardly when I can’t find it. It has to be here somewhere...
I’m busy turning a box around when I hear the door lock. Stiffening I hurry over to it, trying the knob.
“Wait,” I call to whoever is on the other side, “I’m still in here...”
“I know,” Lucretia says icily and my heart turns into stone. Gasping, I bend down, looking through the keyhole only to see her blue eye staring back. “You’re supposed to be.”
“Lucretia, what are you doing?” I say in a slight panicky voice as an ominous feeling washes over me. “Let me out of here, immediately!”
She shakes her head in reprimand, mocking, “Don’t you snap at me, Ginger.”
“It’s not funny. You can’t do this,” I plead. “Please, just...”
“What? You think I’d let you be the belle of the ball? Think again. And if you know what’s best for you, you’ll stay away from my father. Got it?”
“Open the door,” I say again, tugging at the knob and she laughs and straightens. I watch her walk down the hallway and I pound on the door with my fists. “Lucretia!”
I yank at the knob so hard, I feel like it’ll break if I don’t stop so instead I bang on the door and call for help. There’s no answer, no footsteps and when I hear music playing and laughter starts to spread, tears start burning in my eyes.
