Taking It All(23)

"You have the right to know anything that affects you," he said firmly.   "To answer your question, no, this isn't someone we've played with in   the past. I spoke to Damon and he gave me a few names of men who didn't   mind playing the Dominant when in actuality I would be in total command   of every aspect. I arranged to meet them this morning. It's why my   client meeting was so late in the day. I wish I could say that I had   planned this prior to our anniversary. It's something I should have been   more aware of, and I'm sorry for that. But I picked a man I thought   would give you the most pleasure while allowing me to dictate what he   does and doesn't do. When I showed him your picture I thought he was   damn near going to swallow his tongue."                       
       
           



       

He laughed as he said the last and Chessy smiled.

"So he liked what he saw?" she asked innocently.

"Oh yeah. He liked."

A thought occurred to her, one that had her blushing to the roots of her hair. Her entire face was literally on fire.

"Tate, tell me you didn't show him one of those pictures," she whispered.

Those pictures being ones Tate had taken of her in different sexual   positions and in various stages of undress. Bound hand and foot. Some   naked and spread-eagled, her hands and feet splayed wide and restrained   in all directions.

They were beautifully erotic, but only intended for Tate. It made her   sound like the ultimate hypocrite, being willing to allow another man to   touch her. To flog her, mark her, give her pleasure. So why object to   Tate ever showing such pictures to another man?

Except that to her those pictures were personal and were meant to be   shared only between her and her husband. It didn't have to make sense to   anyone but her.

Tate's expression grew serious. He cupped her chin, rubbing his thumb gently down her jawline.

"I would never betray your trust," he said gravely. "Those pictures are   for me and only me. I showed the man-James-one of my favorite pictures   of you from our vacation in the Caribbean. The one of you in that sexy   sundress smiling brightly enough to outshine the sun. There isn't a man   alive who wouldn't be on his knees to have a woman like you. And that   certainly includes me. You're mine," he said in a thoroughly satisfied   voice.

She smiled then, feeling awful for having questioned him in the first   place. It was baffling to her, this new turn in their relationship,   where she seemed to question him with growing frequency.

She'd never questioned him in the past. She always, without fail, abided   by his decisions. Accepted without reservation whatever he chose. So   why now? She bit into her bottom lip, knowing exactly why she had begun   to question him, even if she hadn't openly acknowledged it until now.   She couldn't quite shake the sense of betrayal even though Tate was   going above and beyond to make amends. Maybe these things just took   time. They'd both already admitted that it would take more than a   weekend to set to rights two years of unhappiness and the fear of their   marriage dissolving.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

His look of surprise took her aback. "What are you sorry for, baby?"

"For questioning you. For not trusting you."

His expression softened and warmth entered his eyes. He put his arms   around her and rubbed up and down her back in a soothing pattern.

"I'd say you have reason for both," he admitted. "I haven't acted like   someone you could trust or not question over the last two years. It's me   who should be apologizing to you, not the other way around."

"You already have. More than enough times," she said firmly. "And my   apology still stands. I gave you my trust before we were even married. I   gave you my love and then my submission and then my life when I  married  you. I'll never regret any of those choices, Tate. I want you  to know  that. As far as I'm concerned the past is in the past. We've  moved  beyond that point and I have complete faith in you that you'll  keep your  promise of putting me first from now on."

"You have the most loving, generous heart," he said in a voice thick   with emotion. "I don't deserve you. I don't deserve your forgiveness and   I damn sure don't deserve your trust after I've failed you at every   turn."

She put her fingers to his lips to hush him before he could continue.

"I'd much rather hear about this night of decadence you've promised me,"   she said with a wicked grin. "Or am I not allowed to know?"

He smiled back at her, the shadows erased from his eyes. This moment   felt so much like old times. Her sitting on his lap and them just   talking, teasing and just  …  being. It felt utterly perfect.

"All I will tell you is that I will personally choose what you wear to   The House and, just a warning, it's going to be positively sinful. At   least for the time you're wearing it, that is," he said in a deliciously   evil tone that sent a rush of anticipation flooding through her veins.

"Except for the shoes," he murmured thoughtfully. "I plan to find out   where Kylie got her killer fuck-me shoes because I'm buying you a pair   just like them so that when I fuck you the only thing you'll be wearing   are those shoes. It will give my ‘helpers' plenty of leverage to hold   you down so you're utterly helpless to my every whim."                       
       
           



       

Helpers? Her mind was ablaze trying to imagine such a scenario. In all   of the fantasies they'd played out at The House over the years, apart   from Tate and whatever man he involved to fulfill both hers and Tate's   decadence, that was where it ended. Tate and whomever he deemed   deserving to put his hands on what Tate considered his property. And now   he had used helper in the plural. Helpers. Meaning more than one!

"Uh, Tate, I know I just apologized for questioning or trusting you, but   can you tell me a little more about this trip to The House? You   mentioned helpers, meaning more than one, and you specifically singled   out James as the one who'd flog and mark my skin until it's rosy and   evenly marked so that when you take me you see those marks and while you   didn't administer them yourself, they were still put there by your   command. I see the satisfaction that brings you."

Tate nodded.

"But adding more than this guy James? What exactly are you planning for   me-us-that night, or is all that top secret and I find out when I get   there?"

"If you're afraid or unsure then we don't go. Period. There is no way in   hell I'd ever force something on you that you were not completely on   board with, and with me, seeing me, knowing in your heart that I am the   only true Dominant for you, I think you'll be more than satisfied with   the plans for the evening."

"You're such a tease," she groaned. "I want to know more! I'm dying to know all the dirty details."

He chuckled but evidently decided to give her more information. Or   perhaps it would only end up being a tease fest where he whipped her up   into an even more frantic state of anticipation.

The one word that had never escaped her lips, much less her mind, was   fear. She was never afraid when Tate was there, even if a few feet away.   He may have a desk job but the man was completely serious when it came   to his workouts. She teased him all the time about being the most   gorgeous, well-dressed fashion plate to go to the office and talk to   clients on the phone all day.

Oh there was more to it. She was making light of his job. She knew he   had many important dinners, lunches, after-work drinks, calls at all   hours of the night. And in the beginning she hadn't minded. Each   accomplishment made her prouder and prouder. But somehow along the way   his job-his struggle after his partner bailed-had faltered at first and   so Tate had thrown all of his time and energy into making it a solid   success. Endless and countless lunches, dinners, golfing. Meetings for   drinks. It had become all-consuming.

"I will lead you into the common room by your collar."

Her hand automatically went to her throat where the delicate jeweled collar rested.

"I'm having another specially made just for that night, and it will be   ready this week. I'll pick it up when I also go pick up what you'll be   wearing to the event. And those killer fuck-me shoes. Those are at the   top of the list.