His Ballerina

“I would never do that to you, and I know I won’t change my mind.”

“You mean it?”

“Remember what I told you. I don’t say things I don’t mean, baby. I’m taking care of you from now on.”

“I want to believe you. I want to trust everything you say, and part of me does, but there is this little voice in the back of my mind saying that this can’t be real, that I need to get up and go to work or I won’t eat next week.” Her voice breaks at the end like she is overtaken by her own emotions.

“I know I’m asking you to put a lot of trust in me, but I promise I will not disappoint you. I will care for you, I will make sure you have everything you need, and I will never, ever get tired of you.”

She chews her lip. “It feels wrong. Like I’m taking advantage of you.”

“Please.” I roll my eyes before getting out of bed. “I’m the one setting the terms here, baby. All you have to do is enjoy everything you’ve missed out on. Including a decent wardrobe.”

“You really do hate my clothes, don’t you?”

I throw her a smile before ducking into my closet. “Hate’s a strong word. But it fits. Get dressed so we can go buy you some new clothes.”

“What?” Her question echoes off the walls, the ceiling. I don’t bother answering since we’re doing nothing but talking in circles. She’ll understand once we reach the mall.

Only she still doesn’t. Her arm is wrapped around mine as we walk in, her eyes wide as we pass one store after another. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“It is. Where do you want to go first? There’s a lingerie store.” I move my eyebrows up and down, which makes her giggle. “That’s a must-visit. There’s the department store at one end. The boutique coming up here. Two shoe stores.” I point to them. “And I guess maybe you might like girly things. Makeup and stuff like that. Whatever you want.”

“Archer. How can you afford this?” She stands in front of me, still holding my arm, her eyes wide and full of doubt—mixed with something else. Something I haven’t seen in those blue depths until now.

Hope.

“You let me worry about that—and I’m not worried,” I add when she flinches. The girl has been poor her entire life. It’ll take time for her to get used to this. “Decide where you want to go first, and we’re there.”

She bites her lip. “Could we… go to the shoe store first? My sneakers are falling apart.”

I noticed. “Next stop, the shoe store.”

It takes a while for her to loosen up, but I expected that. Once I convince her that yes, she deserves more than a single pair of shoes and no, she shouldn’t worry about the price tag, she starts enjoying herself a little. Pumps, flats, boots. Whenever something catches her eye, I encourage her to try it on. Before long, there’s a stack of boxes waiting to be rung up.

We’re only getting started, of course. After two hours, she’s tried on more jeans, dresses, skirts, and sweaters than she’s probably ever tried on in her life. The chairs set up in front of the dressing rooms are heaped with things she likes, things she looks fantastic in. With a body like hers, she can wear anything.

I can already imagine what she’ll do when I tell her she can have a brand-new pair of ballet shoes, too, but I’ll save that for last, like the cherry on top.

Her cheeks are flushed with excitement when she steps out of the dressing room wearing a fitted black dress that looks like it was made just for her. It hugs her hips, her ass, and her tits look good enough to eat as they peek out over the neckline. I don’t know if I want to tear it off her and fuck her until she begs me to stop or stand in front of her so none of the random guys passing the store see her.

She’s mine, only for me.

“You like it?” Her sparkling eyes tell me how excited she is. It must be like a dream come true for her—the sight of her being so happy thrills me.

It’s a drug. I want more. I’ll never stop wanting more of her happiness.

“I love it.” Leaning in, I brush my mouth against her ear. “I’d love it even more on my bedroom floor.” I take her hand and place it against the cock, straining to burst out of my jeans.

“Archer!” But her eyes never stop sparkling—if anything, they’re shining more than ever. I had a feeling the angel wouldn’t be so angelic given the right inspiration, didn’t I?

It takes a few hours more, but by the time we’re finished, both of us are carrying at least four bags apiece. Madison has a new leather satchel over one shoulder, too, and that’s full of what looks like half the makeup store’s stock: skincare, masks, makeup, girly stuff like that.