Swinging Along (Rose and Thorne 3.5)
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Copyright ©2013 Sean Michael
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Rose stretched, back popping as the young lady left with her navel pierced, tears streaking her face. The little piercings were good money, but he didn't like them. Not like the Prince Alberts, the frenulum. Even nipples. Those were special, every single time, and he loved doing them. Young ladies' bellybuttons? No. Blah.
"You're looking grumpy, Rose." Thorne came over and bumped their hips together, dark eyes cutting up sideways to look at Rose's face.
"Am I? I'm not. Grumpy. I don't think." Rose looked down, away from his Master. Maybe he was.
Thorne chuckled and snapped his ass. "You are. You've had a day of navel and eyebrow piercings for wannabes." Thorne knew him so well.
"Yeah." He shrugged, sighed. "We have more appointments?" Please say no. Please say no. He loved his job, and he loved the fact that they owned their own shop, but some days just seemed longer than others.
Thorne smiled a wicked, evil little smile. "No."
"Oh. Thank God." He relaxed, tension seeping from him.
Thorne reached up, hand wrapping around the back of Rose's neck to encourage him down so their mouths could meet. Thorne's kiss was full of teeth and heat, and the best kind of promises. Rose's bound cock jerked, the tiny weight tugging at his PA ring making him throb. He knew these kisses.
Knew them. Knew that finally, for the first time in days, his Master wanted to play with him.
Turning, Thorne pressed against Rose, one leg wrapping around his thigh. He grabbed Thorne, bent for another of those kisses. Thorne's other leg wrapped around Rose's waist, his Master climbing him. He braced himself, holding Thorne's weight easily. Rose would hold this man up forever. Forever.
Thorne bit at his bottom lip, not holding back at all. Clever fingers grabbed the rings on Rose's right nipple through his shirt, twisting them. He cried out, eyes rolling in his head. God, it was so much better than just good and he didn't have the words.
Thorne moaned into his mouth, body rubbing against his. He loved it, loved how Thorne wanted him. Kept him.
"Is the door locked, Rosie?"
"I don't know, baby." He looked at Thorne. This would be how he knew what happened next, if Thorne was his baby, his sir, or simply Master.
Thorne unhooked his legs from around Rose's waist, shook his head. "Not your baby tonight. Go check the door and meet me upstairs in the dungeon. And make sure you're ready to play."
"Okay. Okay, I can. I will." He wanted to.
"You will what?" Thorne snapped the words out.
"Check the door and meet you upstairs and make sure I'm ready to play." They'd renovated the space above the shop and moved in, saving on rent, on travel-to-work costs, on time. It rocked.
Thorne growled softly, smacking his bottom, hard. "Sir."
"Sir. Master. Sorry. Sorry." His head was somewhere else.
"Hmm... You come upstairs ready, Rosie."
"I'll try." He met his Master's eyes. "I'll try. I promise."
"Good boy." Thorne patted his cheek.
He nodded and went to lock up, went to the bathroom to shower, clean himself. He thought about whether to clean himself inside, trying to decide whether being quick or thorough was the best option.
Thorne had said to be sure he was ready. Not to hurry. He sighed softly, taking care of business, the act leaving him a bit shaky, a little unnerved. He dried himself off and went to the playroom naked, his head down.
"Mmm. There's my Rosie." Thorne was right there, hands reaching to touch him.
He pushed into Thorne's arms, needing his Master, the contact. Thorne held him, arms tight and strong, belying Thorne's size.
"Master." Rose took a deep breath, trusting in that embrace.
"You need, Rosie. Let's do something about that."