Chapter 130
JULIANNôvelDrama.Org content rights.
Through clear eyes, i looked at the scene before me. SO WILLING and so filthily raw, with Rosie still bound, wrists to ankles, having given herself over completely to my fantasies. Putting my filthy urges into words had plunged me into another realm, and seeing my needs brought to life in the flesh, had me torn.
The same dilemma always plagued me.
Was I freeing her and letting her explore the true depths of her sexuality, or was I exploiting her curiosity?
Only now, my self-imposed answers were changing, just as she was. Her curiosity didn’t seem exploited in the slightest.
It hadn’t been that long ago that Rosie was a virgin, knowing nothing of sex besides book romances and playing with her clit, but she rubbed her wrists once I’d freed them with not so much as a hint of regret at what had unfolded. She stretched out her legs to ease the stiffness, and she was grinning, still high on the thrill. A minx in the making.
I helped her to her feet, and she followed me through to the bathroom, wincing as she dropped to the toilet. She knew the routine by now, and was comfortable with every part of it. From period blood, to pissing post sex. None of it mattered anymore, she never batted an eyelid.
She spread her legs so I could wipe her pussy clean.
“Is it hurting?” I asked, but she shook her head.
“No, not yet anyway. You always make it feel too good to hurt. I’m sure I could have taken a whole fist, and I’d still have been desperate. You had me going crazy.”
A whole fist. She spoke as though it was an extremity, but it would be anything but in my world. At some point I’d be wanting to ease my whole hand inside that tight little cunt.
She looked right into my eyes, stunning as she sought approval.
“Was I good?”
“Good?” I laughed. “You couldn’t have been any better.”
“Neither could you. Seriously.”
She was heady, riding high.
“I guess it’s the stockings, hey? Do they suit me? You picked well.”
“They look amazing on you.”
She got to her feet when she was done pissing, and gave me a twirl, showing off the fishnets.
“Should I wear them to college with a little tutu? It would give people something to gossip about for real. What do you think?”
What did I think?
Her question hit me like a sickening thump in the gut at the thought of her parading those sweet slutty stockings in public. My jaw tensed as my pretty ballerina did another spin. My words came out unbidden.
“Don’t you even think of wearing those to college.”
She stopped spinning, cracking a grin.
“Like I could. They’d march me straight out the door. They wouldn’t ever want to see me in these, even if I wanted to wear them.”
She was very wrong on that front. My pretty princess still had no idea just how gorgeous she was.
“Oh, they would want to see you, sweetheart, believe me. They’d be chasing you down the street, dicks screaming for your cunt.”
I didn’t recognise the ferocity in my own voice, but I was sharp enough to comprehend its origin.
My pretty princess.
Jealousy. Possessiveness. The need to be the only man in her world.
It wasn’t like me in the slightest. I barely rated exclusivity, and I hadn’t given monogamy any true faith in years. But our connection was changing me, just as I was changing her.
“I was only joking,” she said. “Don’t worry.”
I tried to laugh it off, brushing a thumb down her cheek.
“Save the delightful sight for me, please. I’ll be very grateful.”
She gave me a shy smile. “You’re the only person I’d ever want to wear them for.”
Ever.
That was a key word.
The selfless side of my love for Rosie would happily set her free when the time was right for her, putting her needs for a life ahead before my own. But looking at her now, with the afterglow of kink in her eyes and those sweet fishnet stockings on her beautiful legs, I knew I’d never be able to do that. I’d never be able to let her walk away with a wave and a goodbye.
“Are you ok?” she asked, clearly picking up on my change of tone.
“Actually, no,” I said, giving her a smirk to lighten it. “I think you’ve driven me insane. Congratulations on a job well done.”
“Same goes.” She ran her hand down my tie. “I loved what you did to me tonight. You can think what you want about corrupting me and all that, but I know what I want. I want more of everything. I want you and everything you want to show me.”
She wasn’t lying. Corruption, or whatever the hell it was, was touching her soul. We were both caught up in it. It was mutual. Exclusive. Beyond measure.
I had another gift waiting for her. I closed the bathroom door far enough to reveal the hanger, and her eyes lit up as I took the dressing gown down from the hook. A pale pink satin robe that would glide over her silky skin like a dream. I held it out and she slipped her arms in. I tied up the belt and admired how stunning it looked on her, especially with the stockings still on.
“Oh my God, thank you,” she said. “It’s gorgeous.”
The way she threw her arms around me was enough that I picked her up, breathing in the scent of her as I carried her through the apartment. The toys were still on the table, the sofa cushions still scattered. I ignored everything but the whisk, dropping down low enough to take hold of it on our way through to the kitchen.
A dressing gown and a box full of sex toys weren’t the only things I had planned out for Rosie this evening. An online food order had delivered fresh ingredients for a pork belly risotto, and I already had two halves of a chocolate cake baked for her, ready for cream.
I showed her the shopping and described the menu to her once I’d dropped her to the floor. Even now, after everything she should have become accustomed to and everything she deserved, she still looked shocked at how much consideration I’d given her. I knew pork belly was one of her favourites, and chocolate cake was top of her list.
“Thank you,” she said again. “I can’t believe it. Seriously. I just can’t. I’m the luckiest girl in the world.”
“I love your appreciation. But trust me. We’re descending fast, and the iceberg goes deep.”
She rolled her eyes, adoringly. “Yeah, well maybe mine does, too.”
My base line sense of morality hadn’t dried up entirely, no matter how many times she tried to relieve it, but who cared about that anymore? I was a freak consumed by lust as well as love, but she knew that now, so why hold it back? Why pretend? Why not show her the true extent of what a filthy deviant she’d become entangled with? It made perfect sense. If she loved me, then I had to give that love respect and be the real me.
Her curious stare had me enthralled as I held the whisk up in my hand, still glistening wet from our playtime. I ran my tongue up the wires, my own stare filthy and true as she watched me. I was baring my soul to my sweetheart.
Rosie took it as a challenge, buying into the depths of my sexuality. She didn’t speak as she opened the fridge and took out the pot of whipping cream, her stare looking straight back into mine once she’d taken the mixing bowl from the cupboard. She poured the cream in the bowl, and then she held out her hand for the dirty whisk, her robe hanging open enough to make my cock pulse.
Her eyes were as filthy as mine, entangled beyond measure.
“I don’t give a shit how deep the iceberg goes, Julian, I want to explore it,” she said. “Give me the whisk.”
This wasn’t the scared girl rapping nervously at my door just a short time ago. This wasn’t the shy girl I’d seen with the 18th birthday banner downstairs, her flesh untouched.
I handed the filthy whisk over and my sweet little angel gave it a token lick herself first, before using it in the mixing bowl to work the cream. She didn’t flinch, didn’t falter, smiling at me like a temptress.
“Stop seeing me as a naive little virgin,” she told me. “I took what you gave me in the living room, and I loved it, didn’t I? I wanted to be the girl in the chapter even more than I wanted to be the girl in the photos.”
“I loved it, too,” I said, “more than you can ever know. You brought it to life and made it real. You were perfect.”
“Ohhh, top marks for me,” she said, whisking away like crazy, her little tits delicious as the robe fell further open. She knew what she was doing to me, my little minx.
“What’s in the next chapter? Give me a clue.”
“No clues,” I said, “that would… weaken the plot.”
She laughed. “Well, whatever it is, I can’t wait. I’ll do whatever your filthy mind creates.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. We’re on the same page. Literally. Stop beating yourself up over it every fifteen seconds. You can slap my cute ass instead.”
My turn to laugh. Yes, she was a cheeky little minx now.
Her eyes sparkled as she licked the whisk again, and it was too much. Fuck the chocolate cake. I scooped out whipped cream in a frantic handful from the bowl and smeared it all over her angel lips, forcing it into her mouth with my fingers, and then I kissed her, deep, my craziness free. I was done with being ashamed and trying to rein myself in. I was done with trying to fight the cause of reason. I didn’t want anything but the insane devotion to the creature in front of me, just as she felt it in return. She kissed me back, Lilith not Eve, and I knew then, beyond measure, that we were fucking doomed. Neither of us were going to get out of this, our whole tangled universe had us at its filthy core.
Rosie’s face was still smeared with cream when she dropped to her knees on the kitchen floor. My cock was hard again, no doubt still tasting of her pussy as she pulled it free and sucked me off as though she’d been an expert for years. Her eyes were big and wide as she fluttered her eyelashes behind her cute glasses, and she bobbed her head like a dream, flicking her tongue just right, and smacking her lips like she was sucking a lollipop, interspersed with naughty smiles.
She didn’t want whipped cream and chocolate cake, she wanted my cum that was obvious when she opened her mouth nice and wide for her reward. She got it in long streams, and I was so spent by the explosion that I leant back against the counter, stroking her hair as I caught my breath.
Fucking hell.
The reality was obvious. My princess was as insatiable as I was, she showed it every chance she had.
She grinned like her cute self when she was back up to her feet, giving me a twerk of her ass through her robe. Yes, she was indeed blossoming into a sexual goddess, and it was suiting her.
“You going to show me how to cook pork, then?” she asked. “Maybe one day I can cook it for you. And cook it for Lola and Peter, too. Although they’ll already be desperate for more of your steak by then.”
My gentlemanly nature regained control as I stepped up behind her and explained the recipe. I kissed her neck in gratitude as she reached for a peeler to start on the carrots, but it wasn’t gratitude for the filthy pleasures she’d blessed me with, or for her confidence in playing my games.
My gratitude was purely for her being her.
My Eve as well as my Lilith.
It was a delight to see how keen she was for college the next morning. She didn’t have even a hint of nerves as she waved goodbye for the day with her bag on her shoulder. She hadn’t noticed what I’d put in there, buried between her notebooks, which was just as well, since I didn’t want any protests.
I was happier than I’d been in years when I sat back down with my laptop for day two of the flow of the words. Without the weight of my own selfhate on my shoulders, my creativity knew no bounds.
Who knows? Maybe I really would make an author someday. Dreams can come true, after all.
I was coming to learn that day after day.