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Chapter Four

I was in my own personal version of hell. When I died, I was positive that this was precisely where I'd be going.

It wasn't hell because I was clothes shopping with a woman, No. today — this place—was hell because Rosie kept coming out of the dressing room in all these tiny little dresses—and I mean tiny. Basically non-existent. Her dresses showed off way too much cleavage, way too much thigh, and looked so sinful on that tight little body of hers. Rose's ass was round like a ripe peach, begging for my hand on it—a nice red palm print to match the color of the fabric.

Her tits were lush, my mouth salivating at the thought of sticking my tongue in between them and tasting her sweet skin. My cock was hard. Had it ever really gone down? Fuck no.

"What do you think?" Rose asked, stepping out of the changing room and into the small section where I was waiting. My ass was planted in a chair, my phone in my hand as I scrolled through my phone, liking whatever shit my friends had shared on Facebook.

For a second, my brain stopped working. I forgot how to breathe, how to think, how to do anything, except stare at the fucking beauty in front of me.

The dress was red, tight, and short. It had a deep V neckline that framed her tits perfectly, giving me a tempting glimpse at what I could never have. The red material stopped just past her ass, cupping it in the most delicious way. I'm assuming you couldn't not buy a dress if you stained it with cum?

Rose took my lack of response as a bad thing, and her face began to fall. The confident look that she had was gone. With her eyebrows drawn together, her teeth worrying her bottom lip, she looked like the epitome of innocence. And I wanted to turn her around, make her face the floor-length mirror behind her and fuck her until she was screaming, and filled with my cum.

Pushing my phone into my pocket, I stood, only one thing on my mind.

Rosie. Rosie. Rosie.

It was my mantra. I could only think about her. I moved towards her, my eyes on her face, watching for any sign that she was about to scream, to call me a dirty old man, kick me in the balls and storm off.

Yet, none of that happened. Her beautiful eyes darkened, and she licked her lips—fucking licked her lips!

When I was within arms reach of her, the thin curtain separating us from the rest of the shop was flung open, and a dolled-up sales assistant walked in. She was so fake; her ass and tits were plastic, layers of make-up caked her face, and if they were her real teeth, then she should sue her dentist—no one's teeth were that white. Hell, she could have used them as a light source on a dark night.

"Oh my God!" She screeched in her nasally voice. "You look fantastic!" She chomped loudly on a piece of gum, her eyes drinking Rose in. "Although, I doubt your dad would approve."

Her eyes swung round to me, and Rose got this glint in her eyes just when I choked on my own spit.

"Yeah," she began. "What do you think, Daddy?" She arched one brow my way, knowing exactly what she was doing.

I was done. I was fucking done.

I turned to face the sales assistant and pulled my wallet out of the back pocket of my jeans. I handed her a handful of bills, not bothering to count them. What was about to happen was fucking priceless, anyway. "Take these and do not come back for half an hour. Don't let anyone interrupt us." I sneered at her.

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, like a fish out of water before she finally took the money. Not meeting my eyes, she scurried out, almost tripping over her stilettos in the process. I didn't care what she thought. My cock had had enough.

Turning back to Rose, I clenched my fists to stop myself from reaching out to her. The urge to grab her and pull her to me was overwhelming. My cock pulsed in my jeans, begging to be released from its denim hell.

"You really want to know what I think, Baby Girl?"

A fucking whimper left her mouth at my new nickname for her, and I knew then that we were both going to come out of this changing room as different people.

Nervously, Rose nodded.

"I think you look good enough to fucking eat in that dress." I stepped closer towards her. "And I want a taste."

Rose gasped as I reached out and encircled her tiny waist with my muscular arms, pressing her against every inch of me, letting her feel my hard body, my cock nestled wonderfully against her flat stomach.

One of my hands left her waist, and I let it rest on her cheek, gently caressing her skin before I moved it around to the back of her neck. My fingers tightened on her skin, her pupils going wide with desire.

"Tell me to stop," I told her, my voice gentle. I wanted her to know that she had a choice. Rose could stop this if she wanted. It would kill me to step away from her, to not kiss her, and feel her body against mine, but I would never do anything she didn't want me to do. "If you don't want this, tell me to let go right fucking now, and I'll walk away."

Rose shook her head before she spoke. "No. I don't want you to stop." Her voice was quiet and breathless, her little tongue sliding out to wet her pouty lips. "Please don't stop." Her eyes darted to mine and then took in my lips before she returned her beautiful gaze back to mine. "Please… Daddy."

That did it. I was done for.

"Fucking hell," I groaned, my lips crashing down onto hers as I demanded she give me everything.

Her lips were soft and pliant against mine, letting me take the lead as my tongue traced the seam of her lips and then dove inside, tasting her.

She was sweet like a fucking peach.

My lips commanded hers, slanting over hers, owning her. It was so fucking wonderful.

It was everything and more.

Her hands came up to grasp my shirt, her fingers twisting into the material of my t-shirt as she pulled herself impossibly closer. She strained, leaning up in those ridiculous heels she was wearing—like she couldn't get enough of me.

If it was even possible, it made me even harder, knowing that she wanted me as much as I wanted her.

With a gasping breath, Rose pulled back, her body tremoring. Her eyes were wide, and her lips swollen.

For a second, I thought she might actually push me away, or slap me.

But she just grasped my shirt tighter in her hands, and gave a single plea.

"More."

Thanks Pearly.

And so it begins!