Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

Julian

I’d learnt long ago notto be optimistic about situations, but when Rosie opened the door with her face streaming with tears, lugging a battered suitcase behind her, I knew things had been particularly bad. I took her suitcase and set it down in the living room, then wrapped my arms around her as she cried.

“Mum wouldn’t listen to me,” she said through the hurt. “I told her everything, about Scottie, about you saving me, about how what they spout in the Brewery is nothing but bullshit, but she wouldn’t accept it. She wouldn’t accept me being with you.”

If truth be told, I didn’t blame Beverly for that. The pub would have been rife with enough accurate gossip to put Beverly off me in its own right, let alone combined with the exaggerations.

Part of me wanted to set Rosie free and send her back to rebuild her relationship with Beverly. It must have shown on my face, and Rosie was coming to know me well enough to read me. She pulled away to look up at me and shake her head.

“Don’t even think about it. I’m not going back down there. I want to be here, with you!”

“Rosie–” I began, but she shook her head again.

“No. This is MY decision. MINE.”

“And I respect that absolutely, but sweetheart, listen to me.” I put my hands on her shoulders. “I lost my family, and it cost me and them dearly. Please, don’t make the same mistake I did. A mother’s love is a sacred thing. You will feel the separation hard, and so will she.”

Rosie’s eyes were fierce. “Then she can be the one to build bridges. I’ve spent enough of my life respecting her decisions, no matter how shit I thought they were. She can do the same for me for once.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

Rosie shrugged, but tensed with the pain. “Then she doesn’t.”

I felt terrible for her. I hated my part in their fallout.

“You really want to choose this, over your life downstairs?”

“I don’t want to have to choose, but I’m not leaving you, Julian. You’d have to throw my suitcase outside and kick me out, and even then I might not go back to her.”

I stroked my thumb across her cheek, trying to lighten the mood, even just a little as I smiled.

“I’d have to throw that case pretty hard. That thing weighs a bloody ton.”

Rosie’s eyes lit up through her tears. “Yeah, so don’t bother then. Let me stay.”

There was no doubt whatsoever I’d be doing that.

I made her a cup of coffee as she gathered her emotions into some kind of order in the kitchen. Our kitchen, since she now lived here with me. Her eyes were on the ceiling as she spoke.

“I still can’t believe this is happening. She could have at least listened to me. Given you a chance.”

“She is only trying to protect you.”

Rosie scoffed at that. “Makes a fucking change.”

Her venom towards her mother was such a sad thing. Through my wife’s therapy business, I’d witnessed so many families torn apart by differences, and so much trauma ensuing as a result. I’d seen mothers struggling with their own past and issues, and how that had impacted their children – generation, after generation, after generation. Beverly didn’t mean harm. She was a woman looking for stability and love, which is what almost everyone seeks from life. Including my own family that I’d ripped apart at the seams.

“You feel really bad for her, don’t you?”

Rosie read me, yet again. She was a very empathic soul.

“I feel very bad for both of you, yes.” I handed her mug to her. “This is my doing.”

She actually rolled her eyes at that. “Maybe you should stop undervaluing yourself for once, don’t you think? You’re the good guy in this, not the bad one.”

No, I didn’t think so, but her words were touching. The love in her eyes made my heart bloom. I was honoured by the strength of her belief. The little flower with the mug in her hand was so simplistically honest in her truth and faith in me.

Now wasn’t the time to speculate on the realities that lay ahead for Rosie’s estrangement from her mother, and the way the whole world would be against us. Rosie had taken enough emotional punishment tonight already. I changed the topic of conversation.

“I’ll clear some space in the wardrobe. We can start unpacking your things.”

She shook her head, blocking my way as I made to pass her.

“Not now. I don’t give a fuck about unpacking my things.”

Her confidence was growing so much. The way she looked at me was a world away from the meek little girl casting her eyes down at the floor outside my door. She ran her dainty fingers down my shirt, and it made my skin tingle, made my cock harden, made my pulse race. Even now, in the face of such conflict, I couldn’t resist her body.

My mouth was on hers as she murmured, and her fingers turned frantic, just as mine did. Our tangle of limbs were accustomed to each other. I tore her top off and over her head, barely breaking the kiss as she unbuttoned my shirt. She pressed herself to me, her thigh between mine, grinding to a rhythm. She knew how to play my body, just as I knew how to play hers.

“Fuck me,” she said. “I don’t want to think about anything else.”

That’s what had got us into this unholy mess in the first place, but I was already tugging her bra down, freeing her sweet little tits. My cock was straining, and my hands were on her tits, playing. It was her who pulled her jeans down along with her panties. I felt how wet she was against my thigh as she kept on moving. “Julian,” she said and her voice was beautiful when she whispered. “If they’re going to talk shit about you, then give them justice.”

She was turning into a kinky little bitch in front of me, one innocent petal at a time, and that was a mountain of fuel to a fire already burning bright.

“You really do want to be a dirty girl, don’t you,” I said.

“I want to be your dirty girl. Show me how dirty you can make me.”

That was like a red rag to a bull. I hitched her up and carried her through to the living room, bashing my knee into her suitcase on the way to the dining table, on such a fucking mission. I slammed her flat, wanting to possess every fucking part of her. My mouth was frantic as I tasted, licked, sucked, trying to take her all in. She held my head to her pussy, already wet enough that my face was slick within seconds. Her taste was my heaven, my filth was my hell, and it was a blend powerful enough to turn me into a rampant demon.

I only let her go for a moment as I scooped up the array of toys still scattered on the chesterfield and dropped them down beside her. My hands were straight to the rope. She responded by offering her wrists to me, clasped together. I bound them like a madman, tugging the rope up over her head and binding her to one of the legs of the dining table, awkward but fucking stunning. Her back was still flat to the wood, arms tense as she pulled against the knot. She was bound tight. Mine to use. Her smile said she wanted it, but the hitch of her breaths said the nerves were still there. I paused to admire the beauty. Poor Rosie must have thought I was having second thoughts.

“I mean it,” she said. “I want to be the dirtiest girl you’ve ever had, and I know you’ve had a lot. I want to be the best.”

Her words made my cock swell as well as my heart. I gazed at her in awe.

"Don’t keep me waiting,” she said, “make me a dirty slut, Julian.”

Oh, how I loved the girl.

I spat on her tits like she was a true dirty slut, smearing her skin until she was dripping, nipples hard. I spat some more and ran my fingers up her neck, coated wet.

“Open your mouth,” I said, and she did it. She opened her mouth wide and sucked my fingers in all the way. She sucked me like a needy baby, and my cock was aching for her cunt, but I didn’t give it to her. I wanted to defile her enough to drive me insane.

She was smiling as I took the black marker pen at her side. I started with her thighs, my hands running wild as I wrote cheap on one side and slut on the other.

“Hitch your legs up,” I said, and she did as she was told, displaying the words proudly. Her slick cunt was on offer, but I wanted to give her the thick purple dildo before I gave her my cock. She moaned as I eased it in all the way, straining at her bonds, but she was a good girl. She didn’t complain, didn’t squirm, didn’t lower her legs.

“Want to see what you look like? Such a pretty piece of meat on offer?” I asked her, and she nodded.

It was second nature to call up the camera app on my phone. I loved the way she looked onscreen, glasses so awkwardly cute as she tried to stare down at me. My view was all on her slit, though, framed by the words cheap slut. The dildo was straining, stretching her cunt beautifully. She was such a tight little bitch.

I set the video app to record. She whimpered like an innocent as she saw it in my hands.

I leant in close and pushed her glasses up her nose. “Tell me you want it. Say you want to be a cheap slut,” I said, making sure her face was visible onscreen.

My true deviant nature was taking hold. I was lost to it. And it was incredible.

Shewas incredible.

“I really, really want it,” she said. “I want to be your cheap slut.”

“I’m not convinced,” I said. “Say it like you mean it. Say it like you crave it.”

I kept her face in shot. She looked hurt at first. Then her confidence kicked back in. She ran her tongue over her lips. I could see she was thinking of the words to use.

“Tell me,” I said.

“Alright,” she said, “I’ll tell you how I crave it. I’m your slut,” she paused, so calm and serene. “I might not be a very good slut right now, but I know I will be the best slut for you. All I need is for you to teach me. I crave that. And I crave the look of love in your eyes when you play with me. I crave the amazing orgasms. I crave you, Julian. I’m your slut, so make me the best. Please.”

I took a step back, stared at the girl with an ache in my heart.

I stopped the video and took my time, savouring the moment as she watched me shrug my shirt off, smiling as I pushed my trousers and boxers down. I fisted my cock, saw the craving in her. Felt it in me. Could have fucked her right there and then. But no.

I made quick work of fetching a mug from the kitchen, dragging the TV closer, and settling my phone in the mug on top of it, angled just right to catch everything as I set the video to record again.

I stood to the side of her, opened her legs wide, and she moaned a delicious moan as I eased the dildo all the way out. Her breath was almost a hiss. It sent shivers to my balls. And her cunt was bliss, gaping just a little as it retracted.

“Fuck, that feels nice,” she said.

I stroked her hair. “Good girl,” I said and pushed the dildo back in, slowly, all the way.

“God,” she said. “Oh God. Oh God.”

I admired the stretch of her. Her cunt straining at the intrusion.

“How does it feel?” I asked.

“It stings,” she said, “Hurts.”

“Then let’s turn that pain into pleasure. That’s what good sluts do, Rosie. Turn pain into pleasure.”

I fucked her with the dildo. Slowly at first until her slickness allowed for rhythm.

“That’s it,” I said and picked up the pace.

She cried out and I kept going until those cries became whimpers and she was actually bucking against the toy.

I stopped fucking her and pushed the dildo deep.

The way she was panting, tits rising and falling, brow sweaty, cheeks aflame, cunt stretched wide and dripping, made me feel weirdly proud.

“You’re doing well, slut,” I said. “Think you can take more?”

“I want more,” she said, “give it to me.”

The dildo was still buried deep and stretching her beautiful cunt wide when I used my fingers on her ass. Two fingers… three… and she was crying out.

“Tell me to stop,” I said, but she shook her head.

“No.”

“My cock is fucking savage,” I told her. “Tell me to stop before I tear you apart with it.”

“NO!” she said, and her eyes were alive with defiance. “Do it! Do whatever you want. Treat me like all the other cheap little bitches who’ve wanted you!”

“You’re nothing like the others,” I reminded her.

“I know,” she said, “So give me what I want. I want it even more than you do.”

She had me. It was me who was snared as much as she was, swimming in my own seedy urges as she submitted so perfectly. I pulled my fingers free of her ass, tugged her butt to the edge of the table and lined my dick up. Double penetration was going to be rough, so I hoped she was a brave little angel. This was going to be the roughest she’d ever taken.

Her ass was dry and tight. Her pussy was stretched wide around the plastic cock as I touched my cock end to her asshole.

But I hesitated.

“Do it!” she said.

“It’s going to hurt.”

“Hurt me, then,” she said, “only the best little sluts can take it.” She pushed her ass against my cock.

“This is what happens to dirty bitches who tease,” I told her. “I make them filthy.”

“Good,” she said. “Make me as filthy as you can. I don’t want to be a little cutie anymore.”

“You’ll always be a little cutie.” My voice sounded so dark, so low. “You’ll just be a cheap filthy slut alongside her.”

I don’t know how the fuck she found the strength to push against me as I eased my cock into her ass. She turned her head to the side as she struggled to take it, closing her eyes like an angel being destroyed. I kept on going, straining as her ass yielded and my cock went all the way in. She cried out, a wonderful mix of pain and pleasure. With my cock held deep and her ass strangling the fuck out of it, I wrote cheap on her cheek in marker pen, and she gave me the side eye, full of mischief, even through the pain.

“Fuck me, then,” she said.

I held on to my angel’s waist and I eased my cock halfway out, so tight against the dildo stretching her cunt.

She winced.

I hesitated.

“Fuck me,” she said again.

So, I did.

I clamped hold of her tits and squeezed hard as I fucked her ass with a rhythm that soon had me grunting and Rosie bucking.

Her glorious asshole milked me in no time. I shot my load in Rosie’s sweet ass with that dildo buried deep in her cunt and she cried out so beautifully it was magic brought to life.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she said when I pulled out, then hissed like a bitch when I eased the dildo from her.

She was panting, hurting, but looked so proud as I stared at her gaping holes.

And I was so very proud when she gave a little push and my cum dribbled from her asshole.

“Jesus, Rosie,” I said, “that was…”

“Amazing?”

I nodded. “More than amazing. How do you think the people in the pub would feel about me if they saw you right now? Do you really think their accusations are so unfair? Do you really think your mother should be welcoming me with open arms while I treat you like a cheap slut?”

Her words were so honest as she smiled a filthy smile.

“I don’t care. All I care about is you.”