“They give me a headache. But you trouble my heart, Lydia.”
“Oh. Gosh.” She didn’t know what to say to that.
“I want you. I want you to stop seeing Milan Kaspar.”
She shook her head. “I’m not going to do that.”
He held her gaze for a few moments, then released her wrist.
“I know,” he said. “But I don’t have to like it.”
“No, you don’t,” she said softly. “Do you think I’m a slut?”
A different look came into his eyes at that, a light of excitement. The corner of his lips twitched.
“Yes,” he said throatily, and he stroked her cheek. “I do think you are a slut. What about you? What do you think?”
“I know I am. I want sex and I’ve got two men to give it to me. I’m a slut and I love it. I’m completely unrepentant, you know.”
“You aren’t the girl I used to know, Lydia. All this male attention is going to your head, isn’t it? I think your attitude needs adjusting.”
“Oh, and who’s going to adjust it for me?”
She stepped in closer to hi
m, ignoring the steady stream of classical music buffs leaving the church around them. Their thighs brushed together. Von Ritter, it seemed, was getting a most inconvenient erection.
“You’re asking for it,” he whispered.
He took her hand and marched her down the steps.
“Where are we going?” she asked, giggling, as they set off at a brisk trot up Charing Cross Road.
“You will see.”
Soon enough they had branched off into Soho, walking past fetishwear and adult bookshops, not yet lit up in their shades of neon pink and blue. Afternoon trade was just picking up and the little corner boutique into which von Ritter led Lydia contained a few browsers and buyers, none of whom—thankfully—seemed to recognise the conductor. This had been far from the case in St Martin’s, where every neck had craned around to take a good look at him.
“Afternoon, squire,” said the man behind the counter, who seemed to know von Ritter. “Need any help?”
“I may require your back room, if you don’t mind,” he said. Von Ritter’s voice was so clear and distinct it made everyone in the shop look over at them.
What for? Lydia wanted to ask, but she didn’t want everyone in the shop knowing the answer. She already felt hot with excited shame to be standing here in the first place.
“That’s no problem. What were you thinking of buying?”
“I need a good odourless lubricant, a medium-sized butt plug and a set of Ben Wa balls. The kind that make a jingling sound.”
Now he really had everyone’s attention. Lydia felt like curling up into a ball and rolling behind a shelf.
“Right you are. Just step behind the curtain and I’ll bring you the goods.”
Lydia couldn’t get behind that curtain quick enough. Half a dozen pairs of beady eyes followed her progress. And they all knew what she was in for.
She clenched her pussy, trying to ignore the streams of juice flooding her knickers.
“You are okay with this?” Von Ritter murmured while they waited in the little fitting room. “I won’t do anything in front of him. Unless you want me to.”
“You’re a fiend,” she said. “I’m so embarrassed I could die.”