My Taboo Harem! - Chapter 566 - 566: Phei to Amber
Amber stepped out of the bathroom in a haze of steam and lingering heat, the air cooler in the hallway but doing nothing to quench the fire still smoldering under her skin.
A single white towel clung to her like a second, sinful skin—oversized Egyptian cotton, plush and expensive, wrapped loosely around her torso so the top edge barely cupped the undersides of her heavy breasts, threatening to slip with every breath from the captive of the towel.
Maybe among the princess, Nastya and Victoria could beat Amber in boobies size challenge.
And the fabric was doing a good job of molding to every curve from the deep valley between her tits, the toned dip of her waist, the dramatic flare of her hips. Water droplets still traced slow, teasing paths down her collarbone, disappearing into the shadowed cleavage where the towel strained to contain her.
Lower, the hem barely skimmed the tops of her thighs, leaving long, toned legs bare and glistening, inner thighs slick not just from the shower but from the fresh arousal that had pooled there during her reverie.
She moved with deliberate slowness, hips swaying unconsciously, ass cheeks shifting under the towel with each step—full, round, still faintly marked from the paddle and ropes, the pale skin flushed a soft pink from the hot water and memory.
The towel rode up slightly as she walked, the lower curve of her ass peeking out, the deep cleft shadowed but visible enough to make her breath catch at her own reflection in the hallway mirror.
Gods, she looked wrecked and ready for anything already—hair dripping in dark ropes down her back, nipples stiff and tenting the damp fabric, pussy still throbbing and slick beneath the towel, untouched but weeping for him.
Her phone vibrated sharply on the nightstand where she’d left it before the shower—three quick buzzes in succession, then silence as the sound sliced through the quiet of her bedroom like a command.
Amber froze mid-step, towel slipping a dangerous inch lower on her breasts. Her breath hitched hard, chest rising sharply, nipples scraping the cotton.
Phei.
She crossed the room in three hurried strides, thighs rubbing together with every step, sending fresh sparks to her swollen clit. The towel threatened to fall entirely; she clutched it one-handed to her chest as she snatched the phone up with the other.
Screen lit: Three missed calls – Boy Toy
And one new text, timestamped just seconds ago: Call me back when you’re done dripping for me, princess.
Her knees nearly buckled… how did he even know? Heat flooded her face, her core, everywhere at once. She’d been in the shower too long—lost in her own filthy memories, tracing marks he’d left, aching under his rules—and she’d missed him. Missed him calling.
Stupid. So fucking stupid.
“Fuck,” she whispered, voice trembling. Her thumb hovered over the redial button, heart slamming against her ribs like it wanted out.
Before she could overthink, she pressed it.
It rang once. Twice. Three times.
Then his voice—low, rough, velvet-edged gravel—filled the line.
“Princess.”
Amber’s whole body shook. A violent shiver raced from her scalp to her toes; her thighs clenched so hard her slick thighs rubbed wetly together. Gods, his voice. It was like liquid sin of lust and temptation poured straight into her veins, making her clit throb in time with her pulse.
She felt small, exposed, owned—even through the phone, even wrapped in a towel that was barely holding on.
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Just a soft, broken exhale.
“Amber?” His tone sharpened, concern threading through the dominance. “You good?”
She cleared her throat, tried again. “Y-yes. Hi. Hello. I mean—hey. What’s up?”
A nervous laugh escaped her, high and breathy. “Sorry, I just—you called and I was in the shower and I didn’t hear it and now I’m calling you back because you asked me to in the text which I read just now and—yeah. That’s what’s happening. Cool. Great. This is going great.”
Oh god, shut up. Shut up shut up shut up.
A low chuckle rolled through the speaker—dark, knowing, amused. “Breathe, princess. You’re spiraling.”
“I’m not spiraling! This is just—this is my personality now. Word vomit. It’s a whole thing. I’m fine.”
“Uh-huh.” She could practically hear his smirk. “Take a breath for me, baby.”
She did it, shaky and shallow. It did help.
“There you go. Good girl.”
Her thighs clenched at the praise, a fresh pulse of arousal leaking from her core.
“So.” His voice shifted, that dark silk returning. “How’ve you been holding up lately? Miss me?”
Amber bit her lip hard enough to taste copper. Her free hand pressed the towel tighter against her chest as if it could hide how hard her nipples were, how her breasts heaved with every ragged breath of happiness.
“I miss you,” she whispered to herself before she could stop herself, so tiny it was almost lost in the static. “Like… a lot. Your touch. Your voice. I just want to—”
She caught herself. Swallowed. Felt her face burn hot enough to fry an egg.
“I’ve been great!” she said, way too loud, way too perky. “Super chill. Very normal. Just like, hanging out. Doing stuff. Not thinking about you at all, actually. Zero thoughts. Head empty. No Phei. I’ve been so busy not thinking about you it’s actually crazy give how much happened that day, haha.”
Another chuckle, slower this time, filthier. “That so?”
“Mhmm. Very much so. Completely normal week. Nothing weird. Nothing—” She swallowed hard. “—aching.”
“Amber.”
“Yes?”
“You know I heard that whisper, right? The first one. Before you started lying to me.”
Mortification burned through her like wildfire. She laughed—short, embarrassed, the sound of someone caught with their hand in the cookie jar and the crumbs still on their face.
“That’s not—I wasn’t—okay, rude? You weren’t supposed to hear that part.”
“The part where you admitted you miss my touch?”
“Yes! That part! Delete it from your memory!”
“Nah.” His voice dropped into a tease. “I’m keeping that one forever, actually. Might write it down. Frame it. Hang it on my wall.”
“I hate you so much right now.”
“No you don’t.”
“No I can’t ever,” she admitted, barely a whisper, and hated how easily he pulled the truth out of her.
A beat of silence. Weighted. Electric.
“So,” he said, voice shifting into something darker but no less playful. “You were in the shower just now?”
“…Yeah?”
“Thinking about me?”
Her pussy clenched. “I plead the fifth.”
“That’s a yes.”
“That’s a no comment.”
“Princess.” The word curled through the phone like his hand possessively wrapping around her throat. “Were you touching yourself in that shower? Tracing the marks I left on your skin? Getting yourself all wet and needy while you pretended you weren’t thinking about me?”
She whimpered. Actually whimpered. Into the phone. Like some lovesick idiot in a Wattpad story.
“I’m hanging up,” she breathed, not moving an inch.
“No you’re not.”
