Chapter 35

Chapter Thirty-Five

Julian

Seeing the girls’faces as they soaked up the energy of the club was magical. Seeing the way Peter smiled at Lola like she was his whole world was a mirror of my own adoration for the angel at my side. Rosie was a goddess in pastel pink, her fake lashes a fluttery delight, mixed in with her trademark glasses, shining with sweetness.

A club of this calibre, thrumming with city nightlife, was my usual kind of environment. Something I’d been used to for years. It was a luxury and ambience I’d written off as nothing, just as I had written off my life all those months ago.

It’s funny how much more you appreciate things once you’ve gone through the pain of losing them.

I definitely didn’t want to lose anything else, and my senses were on high alert about it.

The risk of losing Rosie was there for me in vivid colour as I saw the looks she was getting from men around the room, but she was so caught up in our little crowd that she hadn’t the slightest idea how much of a playground she was in, or how much attention was rife around her. The same was true of Lola.

They were oblivious as they walked off to the bathroom together.

“Thanks again,” Peter said when they were gone. “This is fucking awesome. Beats the shit out of being back at home.”

Yes, it did. Home. The place I’d come to know as home, but wasn’t. I wasn’t suited to Crenham, and neither was Rosie – this trip had already affirmed that to me. Rosie didn’t realise it yet. And maybe she wouldn’t want to. Not with her mother estranged.

If only Beverly could see just how highly I held her daughter on the pedestal of the divine, I was sure Rosie could find out. Bridges needed to be built, and quickly – for Beverly’s sake as well as Rosie’s.

Luckily, a man always has his means. I just hoped my efforts would be worthy enough.

I watched Rosie reappear from the bathroom with Lola, arm in arm as they leant into each other and chatted.

“We’re lucky guys,” Peter said.

“Indeed we are.”

All thoughts of Beverly disappeared when Rosie reached me. The Lilith in her was sparkling, heady. Her body turned right into mine as she leant in for another kiss, and yet again, I was done for. I wanted to tear her gorgeous dress off her and get to the perfect pale flesh underneath. My cock was already hard at the thought of her skin being marked fresh as mine.

“Another dance?” Lola asked her as soon as our lips parted, keen to interrupt us.

We’d already had enough get a room this evening.

Rosie looked at me as though she needed my permission, but of course she didn’t. My angel was free to explore her own heights and pursue her own joys.

“You don’t need my permission, sweetheart,” I told her, and gestured to the dancefloor. “Enjoy. Have fun. Relax. Party all night, if you want to.”

“Thanks,” she said, her joy radiating so obviously, making her even more beautiful.

I shook my head at that, taking hold of her chin so her eyes were on mine.

“You don’t need to thank me. I’ll never hold you back.”

“Thanks again, then,” she giggled, and there was the Eve in her again, shining through. My beautiful, innocent girl. “You coming?” she asked both me and Peter, but we shook our heads, clearly having the same thoughts.

We wanted to watch our girls dancing, soaking in their full beauty from afar.

There was something else running through my veins though, along with the joy at watching my angel fly with her own wings. Another paradox that was new to me.

I despised my jealousy and possessiveness when it came to Rosie, yet I wanted to taunt it. I wanted to drive the beast so insane that I’d pin her down and mark her body as mine beyond all reason. I wanted the passion to explode, out of control, and I knew that seeing her there, dancing in front of the horny guys wanting her pussy, would add filthy fuel to the flames that were already burning up inside me.

“Hey, dreamer.” Peter was tugging my arm, offering me what looked like a triple whisky.

“It was my round,” I said.

“You’ve paid for enough, mate. I’ll get the drinks tonight.”

I took the glass, and glanced over to the girls. One guy, not much older than Rosie, was dancing behind her, his eyes on her ass as she swayed her hips.

I saw myself punching him. Knocking him out.

I saw myself putting Rosie over my knee and spanking that beautiful ass until she screamed for mercy.

“Cheers,” I said and downed the whisky in one long gulp.

“Fucking hell, mate,” Peter said. “Same again?”

I handed him the glass. “Yes,” I said, better judgement cast aside, my demons rising through the flames.

Lola and Rosie danced together in their own little oblivious bubble, enjoying the night. It was a perverse bliss to watch them. And pure hell to watch the men edging closer, wanting their cunts and nothing more, each passing minute my inner fire burning fucking merrily as I drank my whisky.

It was bizarre.

Perverse for sure.

Torturous hell and a weird sense of heaven.

I was on the verge of heading over there and claiming her afresh in front of them, but I didn’t need to. As the latest tune began to shift into another, the girls came back to the bar arm in arm.

“That was awesome,” Rosie said, out of breath as she sat on the barstool next to me, and the sweet Eve switched to the lustful Lilith before my eyes.

She ran her hand up my thigh as I kissed her, teasing my crotch with her fingers, but no. It was me who wanted to control the pleasure, hers over mine. I shunted her barstool closer, and the darkness of the club made it easy to slip my hand up her dress. She spread her legs to allow me to brush her clit through her panties, just a tease.

“Can we go now?” she said in my ear. “I want to go back to the hotel.”

I leant in close, my mouth hot against her ear. “Is your sweet slut cunt desperate for it?”

I couldn’t hear her sigh over the music, but the reaction was there, the slight shudder, the exhale, her hands reaching for my jacket.

“I love it when you’re like this. You make me feel like such a dirty girl.”

“You like that, don’t you,” I said, looking deep into her wide and beautiful eyes. I pushed her glasses up a little and Christ, I could have fucked her right there.

“I like it a lot,” she said, “we really should go now.”

I downed the rest of my whisky, and then I turned to Peter and Lola.

“We’re heading off. Are you joining us?”

But it seemed not. Lola was trying to pull Peter to the dancefloor, and the grin on his face showed she was winning.

“Nah,” he said. “I’ll get us a cab later.”

We shared brief hugs, my minx as desperate to leave as she claimed to be. She gripped my hand tightly as we descended the stairs together, pressing against my side as we reached the street and hailed a cab. I didn’t give a fuck about the driver witnessing us in the rearview mirror. I teased Rosie’s pussy under her dress right the way back to the hotel, barely even registering when we pulled up outside the entrance.

She was already out on the kerb as I paid the driver, gripping my hand in a vice as I joined her. She barely waved at the receptionist, so keen to get upstairs that she practically bounced into the elevator, her hands in my hair and her mouth hot on mine as we ascended.

“I couldn’t take any more,” she whimpered as I pressed my thigh between her legs.

“Any more what?” I asked, pushing her against the wall and grinding my thigh so roughly it must have hurt.

“Seeing all those girls looking at you. I was so jealous, it was insane.”

I pulled back from her at that, staring, dumbfounded.

“What?”

She laughed. “Come on. Don’t pretend. You saw them. They thought you were so hot they were practically drooling. The whole bunch in the corner were staring at you all night.”

But I hadn’t seen them. I hadn’t got a clue.

Extraordinary.

Usually, I’d have spotted every single girl with a willing pussy in a fifty-mile radius. I’d have been scouting them out as though they were potential meals on a filthy platter. But I hadn’t given them a thought. All of my thoughts had been on Rosie and the men looking at her.

My princess pulled me closer, grinding against my thigh.

“Don’t ever choose them over me, please,” she said. “I’ll be better than any of them, I promise.”

“You don’t need to promise me anything,” I said, stroking my thumb over her flushed cheek. “You’re already better than them. That goes without saying.”

The elevator pinged on the top floor at that, and there we were, in another dimension – walking along the absolute antithesis of our usual shitty hallway. This place was the perfect high to Crenham Drive’s pathetic low. A stark and palpable contrast.

Rosie didn’t seem to care about that anymore, though. It was all about me.

She was already pulling at my tie as I used the key card to let us in. She was loosening the knot before I’d even got the lights, as needy as I was.

The tension between us was alive. Unfightable. Undeniable. And at the sight of the hunger in her eyes, my fiery demons rose, brave, emboldened. I pictured the men eyeing her up across the club. The guy dancing close, eyeing her cute ass. The idiot leaning in close, trying to make conversation at the bar before I’d stormed in like a man at war.

“You’re not the only one who’s fucking jealous,” I said, letting the full force of my feelings slam home. “Every other cock in the world can burn in hell. You won’t ever be taking any but mine.”

I tore her dress down from her tits, and her tiny nipples were already hard. I needed to see my marks on her, so I slapped them nice and hard, making them brighten, pink.

My Lilith moaned, presenting them higher for more.

“I want to be yours,” she said. “Use me like I’m yours, push me like I’m yours, love me like I’m yours.”

Fuck!

I slapped her again. More fresh pink. It matched her dress.

“Get on the bed,” I said and she did as she was told. She didn’t even take her heels off, spreading her legs wide and squirming so her dress was up around her waist, exposing her white lace panties, so wet.

“Show me your cunt,” I said.

She grinned at my words. A filthy grin as she tugged her panties to the side.

Her pink slit was glistening through the ghosting of hair.

I shrugged my jacket off and it was my turn to grin as she slipped two fingers into her needy hole.

I didn’t need to tell her to fuck herself. She fingered her cunt like a good girl and stared with sparkling eyes as I discarded my clothes. Those eyes fixed on my raging hard-on as I opened my suitcase and scooped up the filthy toys I’d brought with us. Dildos, rope, beads, lube, marker pens. I tossed them on the bed beside her and climbed up, wrestling her out of her dress, a fevered artist unwrapping a fresh, virgin canvas. I tugged her panties down and off, and then I buried my face in her pussy, spreading her and lapping, getting her wetness, her stunning scent all over me. I wanted to breathe it in, swallow it, bathe in it.

“You’re mine,” I said, looking up at her, my mouth dripping as I panted.

“Show me, then,” she said, and our bodies were in sync, running on pure instinct as I climbed up to pin her wrists together. She presented them, and I bound them tight, ordering her to keep them up and over her head as I took the first of the dildos and lubed it up.

I didn’t need to. She was so wet it slid right in. My dirty girl.

I pushed it right in to the hilt, and wasted no time, pushing the anal beads into her ass one by one, filling her up as her dirty sweet hole swallowed them. I loved the sight. Loved the way her breaths hitched and her gorgeous lips parted. Loved the way her slapped tits rose and fell.

I used my thumb to push the last bead home. “Grip those tight,” I told her. “I want your cunt and ass nice and full for me, no matter how tempted you are to let them go. Concentrate.”

She accepted the challenge, shifting position and raising her legs higher, determined. The dildo stretching her. The finger-pull of the beads poking from her dirty hole. My sweet little innocent angel.

I rubbed her clit, teasing, and she tipped her head back so fast that her glasses skewed on her sweet face. Delightful. She looked so fucking innocent.

I watched her, there in her beautiful, horny vulnerability, and returned to my thoughts of the men who’d wanted her in the club. I imagined the fantasies they’d been having. Imagining her sucking their cocks, and hoping to plough her tight little pussy like she was nothing but a conquest on a night out. But she would never be that. Not for anyone. She was all mine.

All mine for all time. I liked the sound of that. It would make a good chapter heading.

I kissed a path up her body as she wriggled. I sucked her tits into my mouth so hard I’d leave marks, and she begged for more. I bit her, leaving a string of love bites across her collarbone and on the underside of her arms, consumed. I’d have happily covered her whole body with them, my head screaming MINE whenever they landed, but I arrived up at her face, captivated. I didn’t straighten her glasses when I kissed her sweet mouth. I wanted her messy and wild. Tainted.

She kissed me back like she was starving for it, hitching even higher to keep the toys inside her like a good girl.

I imagined the idiot who’d come on to her at the bar, playing with her tits, with her lying there for him instead of me – letting my possessiveness take hold. The alien feeling was becoming familiar, and growing in power.

I liked it.

I took hold of the nearest black marker pen, my mind whirring with a whole stream of filth I wanted to write. So many words for a perfect bruised canvas. My hand was shaking as I tried to decide.

“Do it,” my angel said. “Make me a dirty girl. Make me a slut.”

Slut. Yes.

I wrote an S, ragged on her stomach, my hand clenched around the pen so tight I could have broken it. I attempted to write an L to follow, but the rise and fall of her breaths sent me insane. It was as though time sped up and slowed in unison, and I was there, in the thrill, with a crazed sense of possession beyond the remit of control. A zen moment. Falling into the abyss. A glorious abyss of possession. Love. Yes. This was my love. My true love for my sweet Rosie.

I lost it, hands shaking, letters becoming nothing but a frenzied mass of scribbles, all over her skin. SLUT. Her tits were covered, her stomach, and thighs. WHORE. She moaned out a fuck, trying to keep the toys inside her as I scrawled my way around her clit, CUM SLUT, peppering the aftermath with kisses. I followed the marker pen, my mouth as crazed as my scrawls.

MY DIRTY BITCH

MY ANGEL

MY WHORE

MY SLUT

MY DIRTY GIRL

The words were a crisscross around her neck when I moved up, and I didn’t stop there. I couldn’t. I took her chin in my hand and met her eyes, loving the way she gasped for me. And then I used the marker as a messy lipstick, leaving a trail down her chin as I finally threw it aside.

Rosie tasted of ink and used pussy. She bucked up at me – as lost in the fever as I was – and I slammed the dildo in and out of her cunt so hard she cried out.

Fuck, I needed to focus on my own dick, not a fake one. I kneeled up against the headboard and turned her ink smeared face towards me, glasses still skewed.

“Show me how much of a good slut you really are,” I said. “Earn my cock.”

She bobbed her head to take me in her mouth, trying her best as I ploughed the dildo in her pussy to the same rhythm. Her legs were spread high, and she didn’t have the use of her hands since they were bound, so she was subject to my every whim and every movement.

Perfect.

I fucked her face until she was gagging, but she kept on bobbing her head, staring up at me with fluttering lashes through thick frames. I took her hair for extra leverage and used it, making her sweet young throat quack for me, and the fire was burning merrily, my balls tightening, ready to explode. But no. NO. I pulled away, leaving trails of spit from her mouth and smears of pen ink on my throbbing cock.

I needed her cunt. I wanted my cum dripping from her slit like seedy nectar.

The beads were still tight in her ass as I replaced the dildo with my cock. I forced her legs even higher as I buried deep, knees to her tits, taking hold of her bound wrists to fuck her like a beast. I loved the sight of her, dirty with scrawls, and scribbles, and love bites. I loved her dirty face, so angelic and so smeared with her spit all over her chin.

“Oh God…” she said as I angled myself, moving against me. “Please, yes… yes…”

I gave her deep, long thrusts that had her crying out as the pleasure ate her up, and her shuddering orgasm was too much for me to stand. The tightness of her milked me until I was cursing, shooting my load deep.

She was a slick, sopping little Eve when I pulled out, but the anal beads were still all the way in. Good girl.

I pulled them out one by one, slowly, fired up all over again as she gasped as each bead came free, and then I moved up close, eyes fixed on the final big bead as I eased it out.

Her dirty hole winked as the bead popped out and my angel gasped all over again. Beautiful. My God, she was still gaping, just a little. I buried my tongue right inside there, deep into the true filthy pleasures, wanting everything I could get from her. Every single fucking thing.

But I wasn’t the only one of us who felt like that, clearly. Possessed. As she looked down at me eating her ass, the Lilith was back, and Rosie shifted herself up, heels against the bedsheets, struggling to rise with bound wrists as I watched her, fascinated.

She managed raise into a kneel, and I joined her. Curious, and she almost toppled as she reached for the marker pen – clearly visible amongst the dark inky patch it had bled onto the white cotton bedding.

My beautiful Rosie was a deviant state of ink, messy hair, skewed dirty glasses, and quick breaths as she knelt before me. Her eyes were as needy and filthy as mine.

Possessed.

I wasn’t the only one suffering from jealousy… or love.

I looked down at my chest as she struggled to write letters of her own, marking my skin.

Hers were barely legible with her wrists bound.

M I…

N…

E

MINE

I looked down as she cast the marker to the side, lowering her head to kiss every letter.

Tingles flourished through me, behind each delicate kiss.

Tingles of love and adoration.

And she was right. It was true. I was hers.

And she was mine.