A shadow fell over them, and she stared up into Gabor's dark eyes. He took Kay's place, the vibrator weaving a magic spell over Julia's clitoris, plunging into her channel, twisting, then withdrawing and entering her anus. She could feel the sensations mounting, but couldn't quite reach the peak.
'Stay with me, Mr Gabor,' she pleaded. 'Take me away from here, somewhere we can be alone. I only want you.'
At once he withdrew, leaving her bereft, empty. 'Do you dare question me?' he asked. 'I have given my orders and you will carry them out.'
'Don't be angry,' she begged. 'Forgive me...'
He moved away, she saw a sudden movement, and pain ripped through her thighs as he lashed her with the riding crop. Too stunned to cry, she heard the whip whistle and she jerked, the lash landing across her belly. His arm rose again, and this time she screamed as the fiery tip of the crop struck her pubis.
Through the mists of pain she heard him say, 'Now she's ready for you, Senor Lopez.'
'Screw her... fuck her... whip her again...' the watching guests chanted rhythmically, and the wave of lust emanating from them was frighteningly tangible.
'See to him,' Vincent Gabor ordered, handing Kay a prophylactic.
Lopez stood with his flies open and Kay rolled on the condom. His erect penis was of extremely large proportions.
He positioned himself between Julia's spread legs, and she looked up into his swarthy face and shuddered at his brutal expression. A string of saliva hung from his slack lips, and his rank breath fanned her cheek. His eyes were reptilian, soulless and black as pitch. Taking his enormous cock in one hand, he ran the helm over Julia's exposed sex lips, and then returned to prod her anus. Perspiration beaded her brow, and for one dreadful moment she thought he intended to stretch and breach this narrow passage, but he returned to her clit, massaging it with the large, smooth, purple head.
If she kept her eyes tight shut she could almost imagine it to be Vincent attempting penetration. She strained up for Lopez, urging him closer, but regretted it instantly as he succeeded in pushing his huge helm into her.
'Ooohhh...' she whimpered, her eyes opening, seeing his face like a pockmarked moon looming above her.
He grinned and wedged his cock in further, the foreskin slipping right back over that monstrous head. Here it stuck. She was wet, but he was huge, out of all proportion to the size of her vagina. She'd not be able to accommodate him without discomfort. Her welts hurt, her pubic mound was sore, but Lopez obviously cared nothing for this. In fact, the more discomfort his massive tool caused the more aroused he seemed to become. He thrust again and gained ground, his glans sinking further. He shifted her on the bed impatiently, as if she was nothing more than a rubber sex-doll. He angled her hips, already raised by the pillows, her wrists and ankles chafed by the bindings.
Clearly inspired by her murmured requests for leniency, he rutted harder. Julia felt as if she was being rent asunder, appalled by his selfish haste. He was almost embedded within her, but not entirely, his weapon too long and too thick. Three-quarters in and he was butting her cervix. She felt stuffed, the pressure too great to be pleasurable. She tried to draw back from him, but was too tightly impaled and too well bound. Her struggles undoubtedly spurred him on. He muttered something in Spanish, the veins standing out on his bull neck, his face red and sweating.
His fat hips pistoned and he suddenly sank fully into her, stabbing her to the vitals, his wiry black bush meeting her soft down with a jar that reverberated through her body. She thought she might faint with intolerable shame at having the ugly brute ravishing her for his own gratification, and at having so many witnesses to her ravishment. Indeed, she prayed that she would faint; anything to escape his suffocating weight, body odour, and savage, animal brutality.
Lopez snorted. He pumped his organ in and out, transported by lust. Julia, flattened beneath him, could do nothing but endure. With fierce shunts he rammed at her, his movements becoming more and more erratic until he reached the point of no return. He came, grunting like a pig, neck arched, his eyes rolled hideously up in their sockets with nothing but the whites showing.
Through her disgust Julia rejoiced; it was over. She became aware of comments of approval and people crowding in, drinking in every moment of her ravishment by Lopez. He heaved his bulk from her, got to his feet and, with a proud smile, took a bow. His semi-flaccid, latex-coated dick started to lift under so much praise, the tip, full and heavy with his seed, sagging down and swinging as he raised his arms in appreciation of the crowd's adulation. In an instant he was surrounded by a bevy of beauties, all eager to make him fully erect again. They drew him away, out of Julia's sight.
'And what was your little friend doing on the catwalk?' asked Theona Blue. 'I thought she was a reporter, not a model.'
She and Will were immersed in the square sunken bathtub in her suite at the Majestic Hotel. Dumpy perfumed candles were ranged round the sides, their glimmer reflected in mirror tiles. He sat at one end of it and she at the other. As she talked her toes found his balls and wriggled against them. He could feel the blood surging warmly into his groin and his cock poked its head through the bath foam, a creature seeking its nest.
She had sought him out after the cocktail party, invited him to the rooms that had been placed at her disposal, and the rest had taken its natural course. They hadn't fucked yet, but it was only a matter of time.
'Julia's always wanted to be a model,' he answered cautiously, though discretion was getting difficult to maintain. The more her naughty toes toyed with his balls, the more his resolution to keep silent faded under the desire for relief.
'And there's nothing more to it?' Theona probed, smiling inscrutably, her tawny hair piled on top of her head, perfect breasts and shoulders rising from the soapy bubbles, nipples peaking invitingly. 'She's not hot on the trail of some sensational story, then?'
'Well... maybe,' he conceded, opening his legs and sliding them each side of hers, so that she was encased and unable to do other than continue her frottage of his testicles.
She reached for the crystal champagne flute standing on the tiled surround and lifted it to her lips. 'Come along, tell auntie all about it,' she urged. 'Who knows? I may be able to help. There's nothing goes on in and around the entertainment business that I don't get to hear about.'
Could she be of assistance? Although Will's body was responding to her, his mind was still razor-sharp. He hardly knew her, had only met her that one time in Cornwall, but they had struck up an instant rapport, two wily contenders in the battle of life. Bored with the cocktail party, and losing sight of Julia, he hadn't hesitated when she'd invited him to her room. Both of them knew what they wanted - raw, uncomplicated sex, but if more than that developed, then all well and good.
'She's always fancied her chances as a model,' he repeated, unable to stop himself from reaching out and fondling her nipples. They reminded him of rosebuds in the snow.
Theona looked sceptical. 'Oh yes?' she said. 'Are you sure there's nothing else behind it? If there is, I may be able to help.'
He could feel himself melting into the bath water. He wanted to be that single shining bubble on her right nipple. Nothing else was important. She was stunning, her skin a suntanned joy to behold, her hair, her eyes, everything about her making her the most desirable of women. 'Um, how come you were singing at the party?' he prevaricated.
'Vincent asked me to. I managed to squeeze the gig into my schedule.'
'Vincent Gabor?' he said. 'You know him?'
'Oh yes, we go way back,' she confirmed.
'How come?'
Theona shifted position, getting to her knees, one thigh clasping each side of his belly. She rose from the water like a naiad, her body glistening, her nipples crimping. She braced her hands on his shoulders as he lay back against the bath. His upwardly mobile cock nudged her entrance. She lowered her hips, and her pussy lips parted. Will felt her slide down on his cock, engulfing him.
She giggled and moved i
n a circular motion, her inner walls clasping his erection. 'I'm filled with bathwater, and you,' she purred. Then she stilled, resting her weight on his lower belly and looking down into his eyes. 'You want to know how I know Vincent? It's a long story, babe. Let's get more comfortable.'
With that she released him, his cock slipping out of her as she stood up and climbed out of the tub. Hot on the trail of clues, as well as her cunt, Will followed. She ran ahead of him, her feet leaving damp imprints in the deep pile carpeting. The bedroom was as sybaritic as the rest of the suite and when he reached it, Theona was already installed on the regency four-poster bed. It had fluted columns, a tester drawn up into a central rose, with red and white striped drapes hanging from it. Gilded plaster ostrich feathers sprang from the top of each post.
Theona patted the space beside her and Will stretched his still-wet body on the duvet. She leaned over him, her hair dripping on his chest. She tangled her fingers in the matted hair coating his pectorals, and scratched his nipples with her nails. Will could feel himself going quietly crazy under these ministrations. He had to have her. There were no ifs or buts. But it seemed she wanted to play games, tormenting him into a fever of desire.
'Theona,' he gasped. 'Straddle me as you did in the bath.'
She chuckled deep in her throat and placed her fingers over his lips. He opened his mouth and sucked them in, tasting soap, and pretending he was slurping at her delta. 'Not yet,' she teased. 'I thought you wanted to hear about Vincent and me?'
He sighed and resigned himself to waiting for her. 'I do,' he said.
'Well then, listen up and listen good,' she ordered, her body pressed into his side, his hand roving her breasts and dipping down to her pussy. 'I met him when I was struggling to get a singing career together. I wanted to sing opera, would you believe? My parents had both been classical musicians and, if there'd been enough money, they would have sent me to Italy to be trained. Unfortunately, there wasn't. Dad died and mother soldiered on, though never recovering from his loss. They fought like cat and dog, professionally jealous of one another, but she couldn't live without him. You've heard of people dying of a broken heart?' Will nodded. 'Well, that's what happened to her.'
She sounded sad, her guard - that feisty front with which she faced her public - lowered. Will wanted to pet her, to draw her head down to his shoulder and simply hold her like a friend, silently offering his support. But even under the stress of that moment, his cock remained engorged.
'I'm sorry,' he said, for want of better words.
'That's okay,' she said with a sniff. 'I'm not about to bore you with details of my early life, simply to say that I met Vincent around this time. He became like a surrogate father, although I was twenty. He suggested he might send me to singing teachers and use his influence to help me enter contests, but I rather think it was too late for me by then. Besides, he wasn't sincere. He saw he could make money out of me in other ways.'
Will stroked her back soothingly. 'I can't imagine him doing anything without a motive,' he said.
'Too true,' she agreed, and stroked a hand over his belly, finding and grasping his cock. 'He let me sing all right, but it was in the Merrymen Club. He owns it.'
'Does he?' Will said thoughtfully, though his concentration was wavering as she played a sensual tune on his eager instrument. 'But that's a sleazy strip joint, isn't it?'
'Oh yes, a very sleazy strip joint. He won't admit his involvement in it, but he's the boss. You can get anything there; women, male prostitutes, drugs.'
'So I've heard. And did you ever have to do anything but sing?' Unable to resist, he stroked her breasts and, lifting his head from the pillow, licked the stone-hard nipples.
'He wanted me to, suggested that I entertain some of his clients with more than a song. By that time I was completely under his influence. He'd taught me the language of the whip, how to enjoy pain and through it, to obtain the heights of pleasure. He was my master, my lord, my mentor. He obsessed me, and I was in love for the very first time. I didn't want to disobey him, but a steely core inside me insisted that I could do better for myself.'
'You were very brave; he's a formidable man, by the sound of it,' Will said, almost losing his erection as he thought of Julia, who was even now in Gabor's hands. He wanted to get her out of the man's clutches without further delay, but knew he'd have to be patient. 'What did you do?'
'By that time I was in with the members of the band. They were an ambitious bunch, using the club as a steppingstone to higher things. They liked my singing and wanted me to go on tour with them. Their agent was a pushy sort of a guy, and I knew they were going to do well.'
Theona stopped talking for a moment and dreamily closed her eyes, her breasts rising as she breathed deeply and enjoyed his caresses. She mounted him and began a slow, sensual circling movement, her inner muscles embracing his penis. It was as if she didn't want to talk any more just then, but simply enjoy the uniting of their flesh. Will, too, was finding it hard to do other than respond to her smooth, rhythmic ride. He was close. He placed his hand between their pubic bones, finding her open labia and rubbing the protruding clitoris. Whoever had taught her about love, and he assumed it to be Vincent Gabor, he owed him one. Theona was a magnificent mistress.
But to get the ultimate joy he had to know more, his conscience troubling him. Julia could be in danger. 'So, did you run off with the band?' he croaked.
'Hmm... what?' It was as if she was blind and deaf to anything other than the sensations pouring through her body. 'Oh, yes, I left all right, after a monumental showdown with Vincent. I'd never realised how tyrannical and ruthless he was. In the end I had to run away, literally, fearing for my freedom. He was quite capable of holding me by force. Fortunately the band was booked for a tour of the States, so I was well out of his reach, though not entirely safe. He has contacts all over the world.'
'But you're safe from him now?'
'I'm rich and famous. My manager arranges security. There are always bodyguards about.'
'Even now?' Will glanced around uncomfortably, but his fingers did not stop their slippery massage on her bud.
'There's one outside the door and another on the balcony,' she said with a chuckle, rocking her hips against him. 'Vincent knows this and he's being friendly, at the moment. He thinks I'm no threat to him, and I'm not, unless he bugs me.'
Plucking and teasing, he worked her sex-lips between his fingers, and then gripped her and rolled on the bed till she was beneath him, his cock still buried within her. There was more information to be gained from her, but Will's need was overriding all else. They could talk after they'd orgasmed, when his dick no longer controlled his brain. He moved out of her and fastened his mouth to hers, kissing her passionately, then he nibbled at her throat, her breasts and nipples, moving steadily lower, pausing at her navel, then down to her sex. He raised her to his mouth, lapping at her succulent flesh. He felt the pulse between her legs and nipped gently at her clit. She started to convulse, and gave a cry as she came. He replaced his tongue with a finger, and poised himself between her thighs, entering her with one sure stroke.
Everything was wiped from his mind. Like a thing possessed he felt her tight wet walls gripping him and he spiralled over the edge in frenzy. He erupted into her, and then collapsed onto her body.
'Cigarette?' he said, a little later when, recovered, they sat propped up by satin pillows, side by side like a couple of longstanding.
'Please.'
He lit up for her. 'How cliché,' he said, smiling.
'Cliché or no, there's nothing quite like a nicotine hit after bonking,' she said, holding the cigarette he'd lit for her, then drawing deeply on it. 'Now, let's get back to Julia. Is she still a virgin?'
'No,' Will said, an arm about her satin-smooth shoulders.
'Who took it from her? Was it Vincent?'
'Uhuh,' he replied, and scowled at the thought.
'I see. And now what? You'd better tell me the whole story, Will. I'd like
to help her if she's in any kind of trouble.'
Oh, what the hell, he thought, and gave her an outline of events. When he'd finished, she didn't answer at once, but eventually said, 'That sounds like Vincent. And as for Marty, he's nothing more than a conceited jerk. Clever in his own way, but utterly amoral. You want to find out more? I can get you into Vincent's office, and Marty's atelier.'
'You can? How?'
'I have the password to Abbey Reach. Don't forget, Vincent trusted me once. And, when I left him, he was stupid enough to overlook my knowledge of his ventures. He's corrupt, and would sell his own grandmother for sixpence. I'd like to see him brought to justice. You should get Julia out of there before any real harm is done to her. I expect she's infatuated with him, which is how it usually starts, but then it can turn nasty, as I know to my cost.'
'Thank you, Theona,' Will said, and lifting her hand in his, raised it to his lips. 'You're okay, you know that?'
'I try,' she said, and smiled.
If he hadn't known her to be a tough lady who gave the press a hard time and was reputed to drive a very hard bargain, Will could have sworn that she blushed.
Chapter 10
The pub was seedy, a meeting place for down-and-outs, shady dealers and informers. Will wondered how Theona came to know of such a dive, but it wasn't prudent to ask questions.
They had left the Majestic Hotel after she'd made a phone call. 'Don't bring your camera,' she had advised, and changed into jeans and a sweater, a denim jacket slung round her shoulders. Dark glasses obscured her eyes, and her giveaway hair was stuffed into a baseball cap.
In Too Deep Page 16