Chapter Eight : Visitors
Corinne
That night, when Dimitri pressed me into the mattress, he was brutal in his execution, ringing my pleasure from me over and over again until I was a quivering mess of a person. And even then, he rolled me over and demanded more.
I bucked and writhed beneath him, my body keyed to his so that even in my exhausted state, I still wanted him - still wanted everything he could offer. The sex was bruisingly brutal, but it had always been that way with him, and in some ways, I thought that if he had gone slow and gentle, it may have hurt more.
Exhaustion finally surpassed our desire and sleep engulfed the both of us in the early hours of the morning. It was in that dreamlike haze - the moment when your body was just waking up, but your mind hadn’t quite caught on yet - that I found myself overthinking.
The beginnings of the sunrise peeked through the window - it was still far too early to be awake, especially on a weekend. As my mind categorized the sounds around me - the rhythmic lull of Dimitri’s breathing, the slight whirring sound of the central heating and cooling system, the wakening of the birds outside, and my phone which was vibrating against the bedside table incessantly.
I bolted upright, scrambling to reject whoever was calling me at this ungodly hour - unless it was Charlain.
Worse. My mother’s name flashed against the screen, the luminescent light from my phone highlighted the sharpness of Dimitri’s jaw, and I wanted to turn away from the brightness of the flashing screen and slide closer to the hard planes of Dimitri. I silenced the call and slid back down into the bed.
A few seconds later my phone began vibrating once more, and whilst I silenced it smoothly, I heard the shift in Dimitri’s breathing, indicating that he was no longer fully asleep.
“Answer it,” Dimitri growled when my phone lit up a third time.
“It’s my mother.”
“Just answer it.”
I pulled myself into an upright position as I clutched the sheet to my chest. The fabric skated against my nipples, bringing forth a wave of delicious memories of everything Dimitri and I had done the night before.
I inhaled and braced myself for the force that was Emily Rand.
“Good morning, Mom.”
“Corinne Amelie Rand.” My mother’s voice screeched down the line and I winced at her use of my second name. This was not a good phone call.
“Where are you?” she demanded.
“In New Orleans.” I answered precisely. I had learnt long ago that when answering my mother, you needed to give her only the information she asked for - anything more and she would verbally hang you, anything less and she’d fillet you whilst seeking answers.
“Is that so?” Her voice turned sickly sweet, and I dreaded what she would say next.
“Because your father and I are at your hotel, and do you want to know what I found out?”
To anyone else, she would have sounded cool, unaffected - cordial, even. But I knew that my mother was furious - was holding onto that little bit of her sanity by a manicured nail.
“That you are not here.”
“I’m in New Orleans, Mother, I’m just not staying at that hotel.”
“And why not?” she half screeched down the line, and as I pulled the phone away from my ear slightly, I realised that Dimitri was now fully awake, watching me intently.
I heard my father say something in the background - no doubt to admonish her in her hysterics.
“We always stay at Michael’s hotel. Honestly, Corinne, you know that this will reflect poorly on our family. What will Michael think now?” I heard her breathe deeply while I sat there gritting my teeth, feeling as scolded as I had when I was a child. It was absurd, really - me sitting there naked in Dimitri’s bed while my mother voiced her disappointment in me.
“You will meet us here for breakfast in thirty minutes, and you better have a good explanation as to why you have represented this family so poorly.”
Emily Rand hung up the phone, and I had a minute to sit there and allow everything she said to wash over me before I scrambled out of bed and made my way towards the giant shower in Dimitri’s en-suite.
What was I going to say? What could I possibly say to appease my mother? I couldn’t exactly tell her that I was acting as Dimitri’s Witch - and that I was living with him while I was here - sleeping in his bed.
Dimitri’s broad frame pressed against my body in the shower, and despite Emily Rand’s arrival looming over my head, my skin seemed to ignite in his vicinity.