The Chalet Read online

  Oh well, I decided, might as well know once and for all. “Does he know about our lifestyle?”

  She laughed. “I wondered how long it would take you to ask.”

  “And?”

  “Yes, he knows. We were watching TV one night and they did a story on the increased public interest in BDSM. He looked over at me, I looked at him, and I finally said, ‘Yes, I know about them.’”

  That Jackson knew really didn’t surprise me, I’d always assumed Nathaniel’s cousin knew. Honestly, he had spent enough time at the house. Nathaniel kept the playroom locked, but it was possible Jackson had been over a time or two when it wasn’t. Especially during the time he stayed over following my breakup with Nathaniel.

  “And he knew you meant us?” I asked Felicia.

  “Neither one of us came out and said it for a while. I guess for me it was that long talk you gave me on confidentiality. I didn’t want to be the one who told Jackson his cousin was kinky.”

  Before I’d gone to see Nathaniel the first time, when I was talking with Felicia about what I was going to do, I’d pounded into her head how important confidentiality was. “Thank you for that, I really appreciate it.”

  “You’re my dearest friend, I’d never betray your trust. I finally told Jackson I was your safety call. He nodded and said he figured I knew about Nathaniel since you and I were best friends.”

  “How long has Jackson known?”

  “He said he had a suspicion for a long time, but it wasn’t until after you guys broke up and got back together that he knew for sure. We really didn’t talk much about it after that.” She looked around the still empty church. “If you’re finished looking over this place, I think we should leave. All this kink talk in church has me afraid lightning’s going to strike me dead.”

  ***

  It was amazing how quickly time passed. Of course it didn’t help that we were planning a wedding in less than three months. There were many times I wondered what we had been thinking when we selected our wedding date. How did we think it would be possible to set everything up so quickly?

  I’ll admit, once in a while, we let the stress get between us. There was so much to do, to set up, to schedule, and there never seemed to be enough time. We had started spending weekends at Nathaniel’s penthouse in the city, just to be closer to everything and everyone we needed to meet with.

  It wasn’t until the third weekend in the city that I realized how much I’d come to count on escaping the hurried pace of Manhattan for the tranquility of our country estate in the Hamptons. Granted, the penthouse was spacious enough, but you only had to look outside to see reality. As someone who had spent years living in the city, it surprised me how much I needed to step away from it on a regular basis.

  “Next weekend, we’re staying home,” I said the third Sunday night in the penthouse.

  Nathaniel looked up from his e-reader. “Can we do that? There’s nothing here we need to be doing?”

  “I don’t care, I need some space, and room to think and breathe, and I want to walk outside and not bump into half the population of the United States.”

  He’d let me do the majority of the planning. I appreciated the thought behind him doing so, but at times it grew overwhelming. I probably should have hired a planner, but I’d had the crazy idea I could handle it myself.

  “Abby?” he asked, his forehead wrinkling.

  “I’m just ready for it to be here already. For life to settle down.”

  He set the reader down and walked over to where I sat. He put his hands on my shoulders and slid behind me. My eyes closed in pleasure when he started a soothing massage. He knew just how and where to push and stroke.

  “You’re tense,” he said, working on a particularly tight spot.

  I simply hummed in response. His hands felt so good.

  He dipped his head to whisper in my ear, “I think this calls for drastic measures.”

  We’d had a trying weekend. Between balancing wedding planning and playtime, I was exhausted.

  “I don’t think I’m up for drastic at the moment. I think a glass of wine and bed is just about all I can handle.” I sighed. “Maybe just bed.”

  His hands never stopped. “I was thinking a soak in the tub with a glass of wine, then bed.”

  “I don’t even have the energy to run a bath.”

  “You don’t have to,” he said. “Let me take care of you.”

  My eyes drooped with every pass of his sensual hands. “If I can stay awake.”

  “If you fall asleep, I’ll make sure you make it to bed.”

  I yawned. “Deal.”

  “Stay here and let me get everything ready.”

  “Like I can move.” I felt all warm and relaxed after his massage. Like a puddle on the couch.

  He brushed my cheek and left the room. I curled up in a ball and snuggled deeper into the soft leather.

  “Abby,” he whispered some time later.

  The shadows in the room had changed. I must have fallen asleep unknowingly. I stretched and my sore muscles reminded me of our weekend play.

  “Bath time?” I asked.

  “Unless you’d like to skip it and go on to bed.”

  “Bath.”

  I sat up, but he whispered softly, “No, you don’t,” and scooped me up in his arms to carry me down the hall to the master bath.

  Like his bathroom at the estate, this one also held a massive soaker tub. Nathaniel had placed lit candles around the room and an opened bottle of wine that sat on the floor alongside a lone wineglass. The tub was filled with lemongrass-scented bubbles.

  “I’m going to set you down,” he said and gently put me on my feet.

  I tried to unbutton my shirt, but my fingers were clumsy.

  He batted my hands away. “Let me.”

  In almost no time, my clothes were on the floor and he was helping me into the tub.

  The water was the exact right temperature and I sighed as I slipped in up to my shoulders in bubbles. Nathaniel grinned and poured a glass of wine.

  I took the glass when he offered it to me. The sight of him standing there, watching me, perked me up. Maybe the nap had helped more than I realized. “You going to join me?”

  “I was thinking about it.”

  I scooted forward, all traces of fatigue gone. “Stop thinking and join me.”

  He needed no further encouragement and within moments, he had stripped and was sliding behind me. I closed my eyes as his arms came around me.

  I passed him the wineglass. “This is the best idea you’ve had all weekend,” I said just to tease him.

  “Is that so?”

  “Mmm,” I hummed when he started rubbing my shoulder. “That thing you did last night was good, but this is definitely better.”

  He laughed. “That thing I did last night had you screaming my name as you climaxed for the third time.”

  I stretched back against him with a knowing smile. “Third? Are you sure? I only remember two.”

  The wineglass had somehow made it back into my hands and his fingers were inching down my sides. “Your memory is faulty because of the immense pleasure you were experiencing. It was definitely the third time you climaxed.”

  “Nah. Can’t be. I’d have remembered that.”

  “The first two times you came you were told to be silent. The third was when I finally allowed you to be vocal. I remember, because I had to threaten you with the gag right before the second and I said if I had to use it, there would be no third time.”

  Of course I remembered the entire night. How was it possible anyone could have forgotten any of that?

  His hands rested on my upper thighs and were slowly making their way further up between my legs. “In fact,” he said. “I believe I also told you that if you made a sound during the second, you couldn’t have my cock for a week.”

  “Right,” I said as if I was just remembering. I sucked in a gasp of breath as his fingers started stroking and dipping ever so slightly int
o me. “And since it’s one month and one week before the wedding, I wasn’t about to disobey you.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Speaking of cock.” I put the wineglass down on the floor beside the tub and twisted around. “I’d like some please. Straight up. Hard and deep.”

  If I shifted just the right way, I could feel his erection. Unfortunately, he’d decided it was his turn to tease.

  “I don’t know. Since you had such a difficult time remembering last night, maybe I want to keep my cock to myself. Besides.” He tilted his head. “You’re tired.”

  I ran a hand down his chest. “I’m not that tired.”

  “Still, best not to push it.”

  “Push it.” I took him in my hand. “Push it inside. Now.”

  “No. I don’t think you’re adequately prepared for me to do that.”

  “Well then.” I gave his cock a good squeeze. “What are you waiting for? Prepare me.”

  “No. I think you owe me for pretending to forget the massive number of orgasms I gave you last night.”

  “Not fair.” I stuck my lip out in a fake pout, but he wouldn’t budge. “Okay. Fine. What do you want me to do?”

  “Simple,” he said with an evil look in his eye. “Prepare yourself.”

  I sat back with a splash. “What?”

  He folded his arms across his chest. “Now.”

  I closed my eyes for a second as his words swept over me and sank inside. Fuck, I loved it when he took control. Tonight I felt a little playful, too. “You’re so mean.”

  “Yes.”

  “And evil.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’ve taken your collar off me.”

  “Maybe,” he said. “But I’m the one with the cock and I’m keeping it to myself unless I get to watch.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Evil bastard.”

  “I think the water’s cooling off. Maybe I’ll get out of the tub.”

  “Fine. Be that way.” Acting like I was very irritated, but knowing he was well aware of how much of a turn-on this was, I hooked my legs on both sides of the tub. “Maybe I’ll just decide to finish myself off after I prepare myself adequately,” I said.

  “If you think your hand and fingers are an acceptable substitution for the real thing, by all means, help yourself.”

  I fake glared at him, but stroked my breasts with one hand while trailing the other between my legs. Some of the bubbles had popped, leaving him with a clear view of what I was doing. For added effect, I laid my head back and closed my eyes as I pinched a nipple.

  “No you don’t.” His voice was rough. “Eyes open and on me.”

  My heart pounded faster at his command. I didn’t have to listen to him. It was a Sunday night and his collar was off. But even so, I opened my eyes and met his gaze. For whatever reason, knowing I had the power to tell him ‘no’, but obeying him anyway, turned me on further.

  “That’s it,” he said. “Play with that pussy. Get it ready for my dick, because I’m going to make sure this is one fuck you won’t be forgetting anytime soon.”

  I whimpered.

  “Whimper all you want. You need to get prepared.”

  He’d only exerted that sort of control over our sex lives a handful of times with his collar off. Perhaps he knew that its rarity made it more of a turn-on. It did make me wonder, though, how would it be to wear his collar more often.

  His eyes were dark with desire and he nodded with satisfaction as I stroked myself harder. “Show me how much you want it.”

  Slowly, I worked myself to the point of shaking with need. I kept my gaze firmly locked on his as I moved my fingers over my body and teased my aching flesh.

  He stroked himself. “Almost.”

  I circled my clit with a finger, not sure I could hold out much longer. His name was a plea, “Nathaniel.”

  “Yes. I think you’re finally ready. Keep your legs there.”

  I groaned.

  His smile was evil. “Got to make sure I satisfy your request for deep.”

  He was over me and between my legs within seconds.

  “Now,” I said. “Please.”

  With one hard push, he buried himself inside me. I climaxed immediately around him.

  “Oh fuck.” I gasped for air.

  He placed a hand on either side of my head and began thrusting in and out of me. In the position I was in, I felt every glorious inch of him as he moved.

  “Eight days,” he said with an inward push. “Eight days until we start the self-imposed month of celibacy.”

  Bad idea, I decided. How could we possibly go a month without sex?

  “I just might call in sick and tie you to the bed this week,” he said and his breath was coming in pants. “Fuck you night and day.”

  “Best. Idea. Ever.”

  “Damn,” he said. “If you’re still able to talk, I’m not doing my job properly.”

  He redoubled his efforts, pulling out and pounding inside me once again. Then, when he was buried within me, he thrust his hips and went even deeper. Pretty soon, I wasn’t able to form coherent words in my head, much less speak them. Still he kept on, over and over. He slipped a hand below the water and teased my clit.

  “Do you have more for me?” he asked with a shaky breath.

  I mumbled something as another climax swept through my body. He thrust deeply and held still, caught up in his own release. Almost as soon as he was spent, he framed my face and kissed me slowly and intently. His kiss was full of promises of passion yet to come.

  I tightened my arms around him as I tried to unhook my legs from the edge of the tub. “Ow.”

  “Let me.” He pulled back and took my legs, massaging them before placing them on either side of him. “Better?”

  “Much.”

  “I don’t think I did much in the way of helping you relax.”

  “I don’t know about that. I’m feeling pretty good right about now. Besides.” I ran a finger down his chest. “I haven’t thought about the wedding, or planning, or anything for at least the last hour.”

  “Imagine how well I could distract you in the month before the wedding if you’d forget about this no-sex thing.”

  I pushed against his shoulder. “Is that what this was about? Trying to get me to change my mind?”

  “Change your mind?” He asked with a look of fake surprise. “Never. I was just helping you relieve some more of that tension you were feeling in the living room.”

  “Nathaniel.”

  “Okay. I thought maybe I could get you to think about changing your mind if I proved how well I could distract you.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Did it work?”

  I sat up and reached for a towel. “No, but I wouldn’t turn you down if you wanted to distract me again in bed after we’ve dried off.”

  He flopped back in the tub with a splash and a sigh. “I suppose I’ll take what I can get.”

  “Eight days,” I said, shaking my ass. “Better get busy.”

  ***

  It turned out to be a long month. Numerous times, I thought about giving in and changing my mind about the no-sex idea. Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on which side you looked at it from—whenever I was tempted to give in, Nathaniel held firm, and whenever he asked if I’d change my mind just this once, I was able