The Chalet
Page 31
“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?”
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.
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?”
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.
