Her sly smile tickled the edges of her mouth. “I think it’s missing one thing.”
I had a fairly good idea of what one thing she meant. “Maybe, but I’m not about to get frostbite on my cock.”
“Master,” she chided. “I didn’t mean that. I was talking about snacks. Did you bring something to eat in that backpack?”
“I don’t know whether to be disappointed or not.” I took out an apple and tossed it to her. “Good catch.”
“All that backyard playing with Jackson helped.” She narrowed her eyes. “Wait a minute, did you say that because you expected me to miss the apple? So what, you decided to throw it to me anyway?”
“Watch your tone of voice,” I said. “Just because we’re not in the playroom doesn’t mean you can act any old way when you’re wearing my collar.”
She looked abashed. “Sorry, Master.”
“I know you’ve been playing catch with Jackson. I’m there, too. I was complimenting your catch.” I lowered my voice, “I’m going to let this instance slide because I’m in a good mood. Speak to me that way again while you’re wearing my collar and I’ll double your punishment.”
“Yes, Master. I understand.”
We stayed in the clearing for a while, enjoying our snacks and the surroundings. She had told me after Jackson and Felicia returned from their European honeymoon that she had no interest herself in the kind of country-hopping they did. I had felt certain, however, that she would be fine with skiing across borders.
We spent the rest of the day out skiing and made it back to the chalet after dark. I planned to take her collar off that night. After dinner she went to take a shower and when I finished with mine, she was curled up in bed, sleeping. I didn’t want to wake her up just to remove the collar, that could wait until morning, so I pulled her to my side and fell asleep myself.
The next few days were wonderful. We spent time skiing and exploring the local area, but there were days we simply stayed inside and enjoyed each other’s company. Honestly, we didn’t have to leave the chalet. With the spa, pool, and library, everything we needed was close by.
About a week after arriving, we took a taxi into the village for our first fondue.
“I can’t believe we’ve been in Switzerland for a week and haven’t tried fondue,” she said once we’d sat down.
“Shh,” I said, looking around at the other diners. “Don’t say that too loudly, you’ll have us kicked out of the country.”
She laughed. I couldn’t help but smile in response. She was always beautiful, but her laugh warmed me from the inside out.
I stood up when she pushed back from the table.
“I’ll be right back. I think I saw the ladies’ room on the way in.”
I sat back down and looked over the menu. It was written in French and I thought with a chuckle about suggesting to Abby she memorize it. Next time she was trying to hold her orgasm at bay, a French menu would be more entertaining than hearing the German alphabet backward.
“Can I take your drink order?” the waiter asked, interrupting my thoughts about Abby and the playroom.
“I’ll have a Trois Dames Oud Bruin and my wife will take a glass of your house red.” I probably didn’t hide what I knew was a silly grin. I couldn’t help it, though; it was the first time I’d referred to her as “my wife” out in public.
“Did you have a chance to look over the menu?” Abby asked when she returned and I’d helped her back into her chair.
“Yes, and it’s in French. A shame we didn’t decide on a German restaurant.”
She kicked me under the table.
“What?” I asked. “Just trying to expand your foreign vocabulary.”
She sighed and leaned back into her seat after we ordered. “Only one more week.”
I didn’t want to think about returning home just yet. Didn’t want to have to think about the reality outside of our honeymoon haven. “It’s going by so quickly. Is there something you specifically want to do next week?”
“You mean as in places to go, or things we could do in the chalet?”
I nearly choked on my drink. “I was talking about places to go, but if there are things we haven’t done otherwise I’m open to those as well.”
She looked over both shoulders. The restaurant was at capacity, but the tables were arranged to give privacy. We wouldn’t be overheard.
“I’ve worn your collar two days so far. I’d like to wear it more.”
I swirled my drink. “I can arrange that.”
“Maybe another two days?”
“Monday and Tuesday?”
“I think that would work perfectly.”
Playing early in the week would work out well since we’d be traveling home the next weekend and, as such, I probably wouldn’t collar her.
“There’s actually something else I wanted to talk about,” she said. “But I’m not sure this is the right place.”
“Something private?”
She nodded.
“You’re probably right. This isn’t the best place to discuss those types of things. Can it wait until we get back?”
She agreed and we spent the rest of the night eating, drinking, and laughing. After dinner we walked around the village some. From one spot, if you stood the right way and held your head just so, you could see our chalet. I pointed it out to Abby and wondered out loud if anyone had a telescope. She punched my shoulder.
Late that night, after we returned, I found her propped up on pillows in front of the fireplace. Her hair was still slightly damp from her shower and she held a mug of coffee.
“This looks comfortable,” I said, taking a seat beside her. “What are you thinking?”
“Remember a few nights ago when I called you ‘Sir’ and didn’t remember doing it later?”
It was suddenly very clear why she didn’t want to have this conversation at the restaurant. “Yes.”
“I’ve been thinking about that. How I like it when you take control during sex, even when I’m not wearing your collar, and what that means.”
“And what do you think it means?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I wanted to talk to you about it. I know I don’t want to wear your collar every day.”
I loved the fact that our relationship was strong and open enough for us to talk about things we didn’t want. Loved that we felt comfortable enough to simply talk. Especially when we didn’t know something.
“I don’t want you to wear it that often, either,” I said. “So we both agree on that.”
She had her robe on and was sitting facing the fireplace, hugging her knees. She was gazing into the fire with a look of utter concentration, as if she could find the answers she was looking for in the flames. I decided to take a different approach.
“Look at me, Abby.”
She didn’t even hesitate in shifting her focus from the fire to me.
“That right there,” I said. “Why do you think you turned your head so quickly and without stopping to think about it?”
“I know you want me to say because I’m a submissive, but I don’t think that’s the whole reason.” Her head lifted just a bit. “I think most people would react the same way.”
“Good point. You’re right on that one.” I thought for a second on how best to make my case. “Let’s try this.” I scooted closer to her and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s say we’re naked.”
She pulled back slightly. “Are we just pretending or are we actually getting naked? Because if we’re actually getting naked, I don’t see this conversation lasting very long.”
I bit her earlobe. “We’ll just pretend for now. So in my scenario, we’re both naked—”
“Am I wearing your collar or not?”
“You’re not. And I’m kissing you kind of like this.” I turned her to face me and I stopped whatever words she was about to say by crushing my lips to hers. I framed her face and kissed her long and slow and deep. When I pulled back, she was pan