Suspended in Amber

SUSPENDED IN AMBER

I’ll be home in twenty.

I know what that means, and I rush to the shower. Master is on his way and I must be ready for him. I thoroughly clean myself and make sure I don’t need to shave, but I don’t, I was waxed a couple weeks back and so far, all smooth and pink down there. He likes a clean playground. He spends a lot of time there.

I braid my hair back and out of the way. Just a silk robe. I’m naked underneath. My breaths are already coming quicker. I can feel him thinking about me. Or rather, about what he is going to do to me and how he plans on satisfying both of us. I can usually feel him when he thinks about me. He’s an incredibly powerful male and I’m a bit empathic. The connection we have though? That’s something otherworldly and no amount of testing could confirm the invisible tether between us.

No makeup. He likes me as natural as possible. He also likes me softer throughout my body than I used to allow. I hear the low purr of his car and I stand at the top of the stairs, waiting. I’m unsure where he will want me. His drink is sitting on the sidebar, also waiting. The ice cubes look as if they’re suspended in solid amber. I suspect he will wish to shower first, but I never assume.

His eyes find mine immediately. It’s as if he can see for the first time as he scorches me with his gaze. My lungs tighten. I blink. He scans me from head to toe and offers me a small nod and look of approval. His suit jacket is removed and carefully folded as he picks up his drink, loosening his tie. His hand lingers on the silk fabric and something flashes across his expression. He removes his tie completely but leaves it to dangle over his chest. The buttons on his shirt are next.

“Here.”

I descend and pause at the last step. He is considerably taller than I, and I know he likes to kiss me before anything else. He sets his glass back on the table, and as he takes the three steps to reach me, his belt is freed from loops. He offers it to me, folded carefully and set on my upturned palms. I know he expects eye contact, and I hold the connection without wavering. The leather of his belt is warm. I begin to tremble.

He holds my chin between a meaty thumb and forefinger. My lip quivers. I glue my gaze to his despite the fact I feel tears well. His power overflows all around me. His attention is that of a sniper on a target. I am the objective. I fight to remain upright.

The stubble of his beard is scratchy as he methodically takes my lips. He tastes me, savoring the moment with incredible tenderness. His tongue parts my lips and he severs the last of my air with his mouth. I respond, dancing my tongue to his and a moan rumbles up through my belly. His other hand goes to my jaw and neck. His grip grows more insistent. This is when my pussy floods in preparation. It takes very little for my body to be ready for his entry. He’s trained it well.

He murmurs to my lips, “You’re such a good girl. You please me immensely.”

The moan erupts and I swoon, almost dropping the belt. He steadies me with an amused chuckle. I blink at him, and I swallow roughly.

“What do you need Master?”

“Just you.” He kisses me again, his lips incongruously soft and demanding within the same moment. “All day, just you. All day I count the moments to now.”

As he kisses me again, a lone tear escapes and traces down my cheek. To be loved the way he loves me is beyond all imagination. I respond the best can with a sigh and slight whine.

“I need to serve you,” I whisper.

“Yes.”

He picks me up and carries me to the bedroom. He sets me on the bed, lifts the belt from my hands and sets it next to my thigh. My robe is next. Gooseflesh prickles across my exposed breasts following the path of his thumb. He cups and lifts the weight of me, holding it in his palm. His eyes have drifted and so have mine. He’s growing; my mouth waters.

I lift my gaze to find him right there, “Please?”

One small nod is all he offers. It’s all I need. I free his manhood, letting it escape the confines of fine linen to find my waiting palm. He’s already hot, and rapidly filling. His masculine rumble of need fills me up like a subwoofer, affecting my insides. He is heavy in my hand.

He pushes into me and I open my mouth. The silky smooth crown gives way to the ridge of his helmet as I glide my lips over the terrain of his girth. His veins interrupt my progress, but only in a pleading kind of way. I continue onward, taking in more and more of his heat and weight. His scent envelopes my head, making me dizzy. I breathe through my nose.

His length is considerable, but my body is warming and my heart is slowing to meet with his. Soon we will synch up, becoming one, with his pulse between my lips.

My throat opens, my hand grips and I continue to drool and gag, but only in the sweetest of ways. I must take all of him, I must devour what he offers me; this is my directive—please him. I grip his firm ass cheek, pulling him tighter to my face; I need to tie us as one. Past my tonsils he bursts, down into the cavern of my neck, still I gag. We both still, his heart rockets between my lips; my throat relaxes. He is in. He is home. We are one.

My muscles play his length, milking him. My hand massages his heavy scrotum and my nails dig into his muscled cheek. My face is watering with tears and saliva; this is my sacrifice and it’s the sweetest ever.

His huge hands hold my head and I begin to draw on him, pulling, sucking; pleading. I unseat him, again and again. He enters like a batter ram, hitting my insides. His hands grow insistent and he holds my head. More, harder, his hips buck; I cry and attempt to breathe, but am barely able. My vision pricks. My fingers on his butt dig in, insisting he continue. He does. It’s violent and fierce and the sounds erupting convince me he is an animal never to be tamed.

His issue is molten and earthy. He thrusts as he comes, the hairs of his groin, crisp against my nose and lips. He fills me as his fingers close around my hair. I swallow all of him, reluctant to part.

Payne Hawthorne

All roads lead to Payne