hand on the back of my neck and pushed my head towards his crotch. But I was such a novice. He guided my movements with his words and with the hand he had in my hair. The more I felt his pleasure increasing, the more mine grew.
Soon, he raised my face and climaxed with a start.
"You surprise me, Miss Belmont. You are a rough diamond. And I think I will very much enjoy shaping you."
When we entered the reception room, all eyes turned towards us and a round of applause rang out. Men and women came to greet us, each one more beautiful than the last and wearing outfits that would put Hollywood stars to shame. Well… they came to greet Daniel Wietermann to be precise. Nobody paid any attention to me. Cries of “Bravo Daniel!”, “Well done Mister Fire!”, “Congratulations!”, “Long Live Mister Fire!” burst forth from all around the hall. Everyone wanted to shake his hand, talk to him and congratulate him. He soon found himself cornered, caught up in a whirlwind of people. I was outside the circle, but I felt dizzy. I wondered who these people were, who Daniel Wietermann was, who this Mister Fire was and what I was doing there. I had never felt as alone as I did surrounded by all these people.
I looked for a quiet spot where I could sit down before I passed out. At the end of the hall, near the enormous buffet, I noticed some empty seats. After a few deep breaths, a glass of rosé champagne and two or three petits-fours, I felt better and could finally have a good look around. The decor was splendid: it was a huge Art Deco hall whose ceilings were adorned with mouldings and geometrical painted motifs and whose dark walls were embellished with light wood panelling and golden mosaics. Large posters had been put up, all showing magnificent jewels, except for one, on which I recognised Daniel Wietermann… An advertising streamer revealed the prestigious name of a French jewellery family: Tercari. Samples of jewels were exhibited in small cases all around the room.
"It’s magnificent, isn’t it?"
A pretty brunette had just sat down next to me.
"Yes, it’s beautiful."
"Daniel has done a remarkable job."
"He is very talented…"
Just in case she had seen me arrive on Daniel’s arm, I decided to pretend in order to hide my ignorance and, if possible, get her to tell me more.
– Yes, his first collection, I mean the first one entirely under his responsibility, is a real success. His mother must be pleased that she passed the torch on to him.
I agreed with a smile.
It all became clear! My arms dealer was actually the rich heir to a luxury establishment! Suddenly it all made sense: the small black briefcases, my birthday present, those gemological comparisons…
"He’s looking at you."
"Pardon?"
"Daniel, he’s watching you."
I looked around, searching for him. The crowd had thinned out, but Daniel was still in demand. And yes, he was looking at me. And now that I was looking at him too, he smiled.
When I turned round, the pretty brunette had disappeared.
I decided to look around the room. I had noticed a lectern at the entrance and I was keen to look through the book which was on display. And I also wanted to see Daniel’s creations close-up. It was not a book on the stand, but a folder containing the catalogue of the “Fire” collection and some newspaper articles. “Luxury jewellery gets a makeover!”, “Daniel Wietermann dares and wins!”, “The Tercari heir causes an explosion!”, “Fire: which is the more flamboyant, the master or the jewel?”, “Call him Mister Fire!”. The trade press was eulogistic. Daniel Wietermann, alias Mister Fire, was described as a creative genius.
After skimming through the articles, I inspected each little display case. I took my time, dragging it out until it became interminable. My feet were hurting from walking so much. I needed to sit down. Although the chair next to the buffet was uncomfortable for any length of time, it was my only refuge.
So much for
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley