Dirty Seduction

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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 fiftymile 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.