‘That’s understandable,’ he murmured, his fingers in my hair, tracing soothing circles at my temples. ‘But you needn’t be. I’m a good dom and a good lover. You’re in the best hands.’
‘I know,’ I said quickly. ‘That’s why I’m nervous.’
He frowned and kissed me again.
‘Doesn’t make sense, kitten.’
‘It’s because you’re so experienced and you’ve had loads of really experienced subs. I’m worried I’ll disappoint you.’
His eyes crinkled with delight. ‘Oh, that’s so sweet,’ he said, pinching my cheeks. ‘But you don’t have to worry. Inexperience is what I’ve been craving. It’s what I want.’
‘What was your last sub like?’
‘I don’t want to talk about her.’
The message was clear, reinforced by another long and searching kiss, during which he managed to get his huge hands on my breasts. It was time to resign myself to the knowledge that I wasn’t going to get the full career-damning facts in the space of one night. This would have to be a longer-term project, if it was going to happen at all. And a longer-term project would certainly involve sex. But getting in too deep with Keane was a prospect that genuinely frightened me. I could well imagine that he wasn’t a man to cross. Danger signals flashed in my brain, while desire flashed elsewhere.
He had me on my back, his big, broad figure shadowing mine, twice the size of me, when we were disturbed by the ringing of the doorbell, several times in succession.
I had to assume Maria was heavily engaged with Martin, because there was no rush of footsteps to answer it. All the same, it made Keane kneel up, panting and dishevelled, while I tried to twist away from beneath him.
‘It’s not for you to answer,’ he said, pinning me firmly back into position. ‘Leave it. It’s probably nothing.’
‘Might…not…be,’ I gasped, in between progressively angrier kisses.
The bell rang again, a volley like before, then a forlorn single tone.
My eagerness to answer it had a lot to do with who I thought it might be.
‘Please…let me get it…’
‘You’re down to your underwear,’ objected Keane. ‘Don’t be stupid. Now get back here or I’ll have to punish you.’
I’d made my escape, though, and I scurried for the door, only for Keane to get there in two strides and stand blocking the way.
‘Get your knickers down and bend over the bed,’ he snarled, and it was no longer the playful scenario we’d performed downstairs. He really meant to show me who was boss. ‘That’s what you’re aiming for, isn’t it?’
I shook my head, backing away. I heard the sound of somebody rapping hard on glass, directly beneath us, and ran to open the window. There was Tom, peering into the empty conservatory, the glow from its candlelit table flickering shadows over his gorgeous face. More than anything, I wanted to call down to him but Keane shoved me out of the way and let out a bellow of rage.
‘Unbe-fucking-lievable!’ he yelled. ‘Just you wait there. I’ve had enough of this. I’m coming down.’
‘What? What?’ I asked feverishly, following him as he hurtled out of the bedroom.
‘Maria! Call the police. You’ve got my stalker on the premises,’ shouted Keane, taking the stairs several at a time. ‘Maria!’
She still hadn’t materialised by the time Keane wrenched open the door and made his bullish way into the garden.
By the time I joined him, Keane and Tom were squaring up, both with their chins raised and shoulders back, like stags preparing to clash horns.
‘Oh, God, don’t fight,’ I blurted.
They both switched their gazes to me. Tom winced as if in pain. Keane waved a dismissive hand.
‘Stay out of it, kitten,’ he said. ‘You don’t know what this bastard’s put me through. On at me and on at me and on at me, night and day. He’s had it coming.’
‘You can’t get mixed up with him,’ said Tom urgently, to me. ‘Get out of here now. Get your coat and your bag and get a cab home.’ He raised his voice, gesturing dramatically at the front gate. ‘Go!’
By now, Maria – in a dressing gown – and Martin – butt naked apart from the collar and leash – had appeared, pale and shocked in the rectangular light cast by the open front door.