The Chalet (The Submissive 3.5) - Page 17

“I like you, period.” He held out his hand. “Can you walk?”

I scooted off the bed and took his hand. “I think so.”

The master bathroom held a soaker tub big enough for both of us, but much to my chagrin, Nathaniel was serious about not getting in with me. He wrapped me in a soft robe and had me sit in the spacious room’s chaise longue while he prepared the water.

Once it met his satisfaction, he had me stand and disrobe. I held on to him while I stepped into the water and sighed as I sank into the sweet-smelling bubbles.

I cracked one eye open. “Sure you don’t want to join me?”

“I want to join you, all right, but I’m not going to.” He twisted my hair up and pinned it on top of my head. “I’ll be right back.”

I closed my eyes again and sank deeper. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He returned not long after, with a glass of ice water and two ibuprofen tablets. I popped the pills in my mouth and chased them down with the water, not realizing how thirsty I was until I’d drank half the glass.

I looked up at his chuckle. “Sorry, Master, did you want some?” Frequently, we’d share one glass of wine, so I didn’t know if he’d intended to have some of the water.

He took a washcloth and began washing my shoulders. “No, that’s all for you. I’ll get some later.”

I drank the rest of the water and he took the glass. With strong solid hands, he washed my body, massaging my back and being extra gentle with my backside and thighs. As he worked my muscles, I began to feel the normal aftereffects of our play. I hoped I wouldn’t fall asleep in the tub.

“Someone need a nap?” he asked.

“Yes, Master, please,” I said, surprised at how groggy I sounded.

“I just need you to stay awake long enough for me to dry you off.”

He helped me out of the tub and he quickly dried me off and slipped me back into the robe. I tried to walk back into the bedroom, but he simply said, “No you don’t,” and carried me.

I was asleep before he laid me on the bed.

Chapter Nine

Nathaniel

While she slept, I sat in the bedroom and made plans for the next day. She would still be wearing my collar, but instead of staying inside and playing all day, I thought it’d be a good idea to be outside some.

Most of the time, our weekends were spent at the estate. I enjoyed that time, but wanted to be out and about more in public while she wore my collar. We had ventured out a few times during the wedding planning, but nothing extensive. Switzerland was the perfect place for both of us to grow more comfortable sharing our collared time with others.

I made a few calls to arrange everything and then checked on her again. She was still sleeping, so I headed into the bathroom to take a shower. While washing off, I replayed the day’s events in my mind. I loved that she’d been more playful. When she felt comfortable around someone, I noticed she became more fun-loving.

It wasn’t, I decided, that she didn’t feel comfortable with me. We shared plenty of laughs during the week. Ever so slowly that side of her was coming out more and more on the weekends as well.

She was just starting to stir when I made it back into the bedroom. I checked the clock and found it was just about dinner time. I thought about heading down to the village to eat, but decided against it since we’d be out tomorrow. Quiet dinner in, then.

She rolled over to her back and grimaced slightly. “Did I oversleep, Master?”

I brushed her forehead. “There’s no such thing when you’re recovering from a scene. You can go back to sleep if you’d like.”

“No, I think I’d better not.” She stretched her arms above her head. “Don’t want to be awake all night.”

“Oh?”

“If you’re awake with me, Master, that’s one thing, but I don’t want to be tossing and turning in bed.”

We’d agreed weeks ago that for our honeymoon, no matter how frequently she wore my collar, all nights would be spent in bed together. I didn’t mind that she still used the submissive bedroom at times during the weekend, but this was our honeymoon and I’d be damned if she was sleeping separate from me.

“Point taken,” I said. “Are you hungry? I can get dinner together.”

All at once she became fully awake and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “No, Master. Let me serve you.”

On a regular weekend, she did serve me by preparing meals. I wasn’t opposed to it while we were here, but she was coming off of a scene and it had been a while since we’d played. I studied her.

“I don’t mind,” I said. “If you’re still tired and sore.”

She slid from the bed and came to her knees before me. “Please, Master. Let me serve you tonight. I promise I’m not overly tired or sore and I truly wish for the honor of serving you this way.”

My chest swelled with emotion. Whatever had I done to deserve such a woman in my life? Especially to have her as my submissive and wife.

“If you’re certain, Abigail.”

Her head tipped up. “Very certain, Master.”

I nodded. “I think we should have dinner in the living room, by the fire. You will join me.”

Joy covered her face and she hopped to her feet. “Thank you, Master.”

“Oh, Abigail,” I called as she headed to the door. When she turned back, I added, “The robe stays here.”

***

After breakfast the next morning, we took a taxi to the slopes I’d looked into the previous day. The terrain here perfect for cross-country skiing.

“Cross-country in the literal sense,” I told her as we started out.

“Really, Master?” she asked, adding the Master after verifying there was no one nearby to hear.

“Yes,” I said, starting off. “We’re going to Italy.”

Her laughter followed behind me.

For the next few hours we skied, enjoying the scenery and the company. While Abby wasn’t the most athletic person, she enjoyed skiing and we’d trained together in the gym for months before the wedding.

Not long after noon, we came to a stop in a little clearing.

“Welcome to Italy,” I said.

Her breathing was just a bit heavier than normal, but at my words a smile broke across her face. “We’re in Italy, Master?”

“Yes.” I slipped off the backpack I’d brought and unzipped it. “Makes me feel like a spy.”

“Makes me feel like I’m living The Sound of Music.”

I took out two wineglasses and handed her one. “Except you’re not a nun.”

“Thank goodness.”

I smiled and poured us wine. “Can you imagine?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“To us,” I said, lifting my glass.

“To us,” she repeated, lifting her glass and clinking it against mine.

We took a sip of our wine and I thought about how perfect the day was. Both of us together, married, skiing across borders, and simply enjoying the day. Especially with her wearing my collar.

I inhaled the crisp wintery scent. “Just about perfect, wouldn’t you say?”

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