The Chalet
Page 19
Abigail, my lovely, my submissive, my heart
His voice was low and heavy with emotion, “Abigail, I give you this ring as an everyday reminder of my dominance. When you see it may you remember that you are your Master’s most treasured possession.” He slipped the ring on my finger, leaned in even closer, and whispered, “Always.”
I swallowed around the lump in my throat and held up his ring, which had been engraved in a similar manner.
Master, I am yours, body, heart, soul
I slid it on his finger and whispered, “Master, I give you this ring as an everyday reminder of my submission. When you see it may you remember that you alone hold my heart, my body, and my soul.”
He kissed my right hand ring and then cupped my face in his right hand. “My dear Abby and my cherished Abigail, I love you.”
There were no words I could give him that would capture the feeling of utter rapture his words brought to me. So instead I decided to give him myself.
I took a step back and kept my eyes on his as I undid the sash of my robe and slipped it from my shoulders. The move reminded me of another time when I’d done something similar. That day I’d asked him to love me. Now I knew he did, so I asked for something different.
“Take me, Nathaniel. Make me yours, Master.”
Silently, he stepped out of his pants and when he took me in his arms again, there was no poetry. He used his hands and his body to say what words were inadequate to convey.
He kissed me again, moving us toward the bed. His touch became urgent as if he wanted to feel me everywhere, all at once. Or maybe like he couldn’t get close enough to me. My hands moved in a similar way. Across his chest, down his back. After a month of denial, I had a physical need to touch him and I drank him in. The hurried five minutes the night before hadn’t been anywhere near enough.
He laid me on my back and I sank into the downy warmth of the duvet. Then he moved on top of me and his mouth was on my skin, kissing a trail from my neck, across my clavicle, and down to my breast. I gasped and arched my back as he sucked a nipple deep into his mouth. He teased the tip with his tongue and nipped it with his teeth.
My nails scratched his back and he groaned.
“Fuck yes,” he said. “Mark me.”
“Bite me,” I asked in return. “Make it hard.”
He sat up and took a breast in either hand. “Watch.”
I could do nothing else but stare as he palmed and kneaded my breasts. With each squeeze, he ran his thumb across the nipple. The touch sent a spark of desire straight to the spot between my legs where I ached for him.
“Yes,” I moaned. “Oh, yes.”
He bent his head and nibbled the tender skin on the underside of my right breast, ignoring for a moment my plea for more. Treating me as if I were a delicacy to be savored, he took his time tasting me. Then, right when I felt as if I would go crazy for want, he pulled back and resumed his kneading, his touch progressively growing stronger.
“Still want it hard?” he asked.
I lifted my hips, eager for more. “Yes. Damn it.”
“I’ve been without you for a month, I doubt I can go slow and easy the first time.”
“Then don’t.”
He let go of one breast to trail his hand down my side to land between my legs. Gently he pushed a finger inside me, testing my readiness, but not asking if I was sure. “I’ve missed how tight and hot you are when I first push inside you.” He took the other hand and pushed my knees apart. “Spread your legs for me, baby. I need to sink in deep tonight.”
Please. Please. I nearly pulsed with the need.
I kept my legs wide for him as he moved between them and took his cock in his hand, positioning it at my opening. With a control that seemed at odds with his words earlier about not being able to go slow, he ever so slightly eased his way inside.
“Yes. Fuck,” he said, closing his eyes as he pushed farther.
When he was as far and as deep as he could go, he stilled and opened his eyes. “Feel that? Feel my cock claiming you?”
“Please.” I squeezed my inner muscles around him. “Please. More.”
He dragged himself back out slowly, allowing me to feel every inch of his retreat. Once he was almost out, he held still for just a second and then, as if at the end of his control, he grabbed hold of my upper thighs and started an almost punishing rhythm. Thrusting hard and deep, he fucked me relentlessly.
It’d been so long and he felt so good that within no time my climax started to build. I dragged my nails down his arms and arched my back, wanting him deeper. “Nathaniel.”
His voice was low and heavy with emotion, “Abigail, I give you this ring as an everyday reminder of my dominance. When you see it may you remember that you are your Master’s most treasured possession.” He slipped the ring on my finger, leaned in even closer, and whispered, “Always.”
I swallowed around the lump in my throat and held up his ring, which had been engraved in a similar manner.
Master, I am yours, body, heart, soul
I slid it on his finger and whispered, “Master, I give you this ring as an everyday reminder of my submission. When you see it may you remember that you alone hold my heart, my body, and my soul.”
He kissed my right hand ring and then cupped my face in his right hand. “My dear Abby and my cherished Abigail, I love you.”
There were no words I could give him that would capture the feeling of utter rapture his words brought to me. So instead I decided to give him myself.
I took a step back and kept my eyes on his as I undid the sash of my robe and slipped it from my shoulders. The move reminded me of another time when I’d done something similar. That day I’d asked him to love me. Now I knew he did, so I asked for something different.
“Take me, Nathaniel. Make me yours, Master.”
Silently, he stepped out of his pants and when he took me in his arms again, there was no poetry. He used his hands and his body to say what words were inadequate to convey.
He kissed me again, moving us toward the bed. His touch became urgent as if he wanted to feel me everywhere, all at once. Or maybe like he couldn’t get close enough to me. My hands moved in a similar way. Across his chest, down his back. After a month of denial, I had a physical need to touch him and I drank him in. The hurried five minutes the night before hadn’t been anywhere near enough.
He laid me on my back and I sank into the downy warmth of the duvet. Then he moved on top of me and his mouth was on my skin, kissing a trail from my neck, across my clavicle, and down to my breast. I gasped and arched my back as he sucked a nipple deep into his mouth. He teased the tip with his tongue and nipped it with his teeth.
My nails scratched his back and he groaned.
“Fuck yes,” he said. “Mark me.”
“Bite me,” I asked in return. “Make it hard.”
He sat up and took a breast in either hand. “Watch.”
I could do nothing else but stare as he palmed and kneaded my breasts. With each squeeze, he ran his thumb across the nipple. The touch sent a spark of desire straight to the spot between my legs where I ached for him.
“Yes,” I moaned. “Oh, yes.”
He bent his head and nibbled the tender skin on the underside of my right breast, ignoring for a moment my plea for more. Treating me as if I were a delicacy to be savored, he took his time tasting me. Then, right when I felt as if I would go crazy for want, he pulled back and resumed his kneading, his touch progressively growing stronger.
“Still want it hard?” he asked.
I lifted my hips, eager for more. “Yes. Damn it.”
“I’ve been without you for a month, I doubt I can go slow and easy the first time.”
“Then don’t.”
He let go of one breast to trail his hand down my side to land between my legs. Gently he pushed a finger inside me, testing my readiness, but not asking if I was sure. “I’ve missed how tight and hot you are when I first push inside you.” He took the other hand and pushed my knees apart. “Spread your legs for me, baby. I need to sink in deep tonight.”
Please. Please. I nearly pulsed with the need.
I kept my legs wide for him as he moved between them and took his cock in his hand, positioning it at my opening. With a control that seemed at odds with his words earlier about not being able to go slow, he ever so slightly eased his way inside.
“Yes. Fuck,” he said, closing his eyes as he pushed farther.
When he was as far and as deep as he could go, he stilled and opened his eyes. “Feel that? Feel my cock claiming you?”
“Please.” I squeezed my inner muscles around him. “Please. More.”
He dragged himself back out slowly, allowing me to feel every inch of his retreat. Once he was almost out, he held still for just a second and then, as if at the end of his control, he grabbed hold of my upper thighs and started an almost punishing rhythm. Thrusting hard and deep, he fucked me relentlessly.
It’d been so long and he felt so good that within no time my climax started to build. I dragged my nails down his arms and arched my back, wanting him deeper. “Nathaniel.”
