Page 114 of The Man Upstairs

“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 aboutcorrupting meand 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 naïve 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.”