Page 34 of Chasing Amber

Her thick hair is fanned out around her, making her look like an angel. Her button nose is kissable. Her cheeks are rosy,probably because she’s overheated from the furnace I’m creating around her.

I wince about the stitches on her chin. I’m certain the scar will be hardly noticeable when it heals, but I hate that my girl was injured in the first place. If I ever catch her twirling around in circles to let her dresses flare out, I will spank her ass so hard she won’t be able to sit. That’s a safety rule.

One of Amber’s hands is on top of mine, and I stare at it for a while, too. I love how dainty her small hand looks compared to mine. She keeps her nails blunt and filed because they get in the way when she’s painting or sketching. I’m surprised at how clean she manages to get them, especially on the days she uses graphite. She often walks out of the studio with black fingers, but she must have some sort of special soap to get them clean.

Eventually, her face scrunches, and she whimpers as she lifts her hand toward her chin. I grab her wrist gently to keep her from hurting herself.

Her breath hitches, and her eyes pop open. When she realizes where she is and who she’s with, she gives me a small smile and exhales.

I kiss her forehead. “Does your chin hurt, baby?”

She nods.

“How about we go in the bathroom, and I’ll take the bandage off and take a look?”

She nods again. Her eyes are wide. They were wide yesterday when she was in Little space. Has she woken up in Little space? She also spent some time slightly nonverbal yesterday. I think her Little is very quiet.

I bring her fingers to my lips and kiss the tips before carefully climbing over her and holding out a hand to help her up.

When she pulls the covers back, she stares at herself for a few seconds before tipping her head back to look at me. I know what she’s thinking. She’s wearing very little clothing. I already knewthis. After all, she climbed onto my lap in the middle of the night and pressed that cotton-covered pussy and those barely veiled tits against me.

I’m not immune. She’s sexy as fuck. I’d love to flatten her to the bed, pull those tiny garments off her, and lick every inch of her body until she screams. But we’re not there yet, and, lucky for me, my shorts are loose.

I reach down and take her hand. “Come, baby.”

She slides off the bed and lets me guide her to the bathroom.

“Why don’t you go potty, and then I’ll look at your chin?”

She nods but stands in the middle of the bathroom, staring at me.

Fuck. I wish we could skip ahead to when my girl won’t hesitate to pee with me in the room, but again—not there yet.

“I’ll wait outside,” I tell her and step into the bedroom, pulling the door almost closed. I’ll never fully shut a door between us again. That’s going to be one of today’s hard rules. I hate feeling shut off from her. I’m not going to let her do it anymore. Her bedroom door will remain wide open at all times. I’ll let her pull her studio door almost closed, but I want a few inches. This bathroom situation, where she still needs privacy, is going to poof out of existence as soon as possible.

The moment I hear the toilet flush and the water running, I open the door and barge back in. I head directly for the toilet, stand with my back to her, pull out my cock, and pee.

When I tuck myself back in and turn around, I find her watching me. Her hands are under the stream of water, but she’s a statue otherwise. Her cheeks are red.

I smile as I come up behind her, crowd her against the sink, pump some soap into my palms, and surround her small hands with mine, washing both of ours together. God, I love the way her breath hitches and she starts panting.

I turn off the water, grab the hand towel, and dry our combined fingers. When I’m done, I bend and kiss her neck. “There won’t be modesty between us, baby,” I whisper.

She swallows.

After turning her around, I lift her by the hips and set her on the vanity, tipping her head back a moment later to peel the waterproof bandage off. I’m fully aware that she’s breathing heavily and pressing her thighs together. She’s gripping the vanity next to her knees. Her nipples are hard, dark points against the tight, thin cotton.

I’d give anything to skip this weird phase we’re in. I want to peel this shirt off and suck those nipples. This is the most I’ve ever seen of her. I want more. I’m greedy.

“Daddy?” she whispers.

My heart stops. Fuck, she’s perfection. “Yes, baby?”

“Maybe I should get dressed,” she murmurs.

“Let me examine your chin first, baby, okay?” I’m pushing her to the edge of her comfort zone, but she’s not fighting back.

“’Kay.”

---