“Oh, don’t! Just because I don’t want to see him hurt, it doesn’t mean I’m still mooning over him. I’m a human being. I feel compassion for other human beings.” She wrung her hands, desperate to convey her message without ruffling her lover’s feathers.
“You are still in love with him,” he rasped.
“No. I’m not.”
But von Ritter’s words had hit a target deep inside her and she knew that he was right.
“I don’t believe you.”
He stepped forward, releasing her arm, to speak to Hackmeyer.
“This is all very pretty, Julius, but I’d like to replace that ball gag with something. Do you mind?”
“Be my guest,” said Hackmeyer, still spanking energetically.
Lydia’s jaw dropped as von Ritter removed Sarah’s gag, unzipped his fly and pushed his cock into her mouth. She watched Sarah’s scarlet lips take inch after inch of her lover’s erection, sighing with throaty satisfaction.
It was more than Lydia could take.
“I’m leaving,” she said, turning and running through the crowd. Von Ritter shouted something after her, but she didn’t hear what it was. He could hardly chase her, with his prick stuffed in that bitch’s mouth.
She found her coat and ran out onto the street, cursing the stupid heels.
She should tell Milan. Milan should know. But not before the Prom. She would tell him after the concert.
Chapter Fourteen
The air was tight with excited tension in the Green Room of the Royal Albert Hall.
Lydia walked in with Vanessa and Ben, anxious about encountering von Ritter. She had turned her phone off after leaving the club, but, as soon as she’d switched it on that morning, a hailstorm of texts and missed calls had rained down on her. He wasn’t going to be happy with her, but sod him. She wasn’t happy with him, either.
“So what’s the trouble between Milan and Hackmeyer about, then?” asked Vanessa, to whom Lydia had poured out her heart.
“I don’t know. Obviously there’s something in their past. Oh, God. I’m dreading seeing von Ritter. And Sarah. And Milan.”
“Look, you don’t have to tell him. It’s not your job. It should come from Sarah, really. Why don’t you talk to her?”
“Shit, shit, shit, there she is. I can’t, Ness.”
Lydia’s chest ached and her hands started to shake. She clutched her violin case tightly to her body, using it to still her jitters.
Sarah, looking svelte and stunning in her black silk concert dress, was sitting on a sofa with a small group of admirers, laughing. Her smile disappeared when she saw Lydia, and she excused herself.
“She’s coming over. Don’t go,
Ness. Stay with me.”
But Sarah had arrived within earshot and Vanessa had to keep her counsel.
“Lydia,” she said. “Could I have a quick word? In private?”
Lydia felt her breath shorten.
“It’ll have to be very quick,” she said unwillingly.
“Fine.”
Vanessa and Ben wandered away.