Taking It All (Surrender Trilogy #3)(42)

“It’s good to see you both,” Damon said warmly. He leaned in and kissed Chessy on the cheek and then shook Tate’s hand. “James is waiting by the bench. Everything you requested is available. I hope you both enjoy yourselves tonight.”

Ever the consummate host, Damon escorted them to the far corner of the room, where a tall, attractive dark-haired man stood in casual jeans and polo shirt. Butterflies danced through Chessy’s stomach when the man lifted a chin in greeting as the group approached.

So this was James. The man Tate had chosen for her tonight. She was careful not to offer Tate disrespect by being too open with her admiration, but her husband had indeed chosen well. James was broad-shouldered and muscled, his arms bulging at the short sleeves of the shirt he wore and his expression was one of complete dominance. And yet he was ceding control to Tate, acting as an extension of him for tonight.

They’d certainly done this before, but none of the other men Tate had ever chosen seemed this … Dominant. James didn’t appear to her to be a man who so easily gave up power to another man. A shiver worked its way up her spine as she studied him further. Trepidation squeezed her chest before she admonished herself for entertaining such apprehension. Tate would never put her in a position where she would be overwhelmed or hurt.

“James, good to see you again.” Tate ceremoniously handed over the leash to the other man. “This is my beautiful submissive, Chessy. She is yours for the evening to do with as I dictate,” he said formally. “Her safe word is ‘rain.’ You are to take absolute care in your handling of her. Her mouth is mine and mine alone. I expect you to treat her with utmost respect.”

James looked impatient with Tate’s instructions, his eyes glittering as his gaze swept hungrily over Chessy. It was as though he wanted to dispense with the niceties and get straight to the action.

James lifted one of Chessy’s hands and whispered a kiss over the top of her knuckles. “It will be my honor to bring you pleasure while your husband watches.”

She shivered again, the quivering sensation in her belly increasing. Why was she so nervous? This was not new to her even if it had been a while since they’d last indulged. Perhaps it was because she wanted so much for the evening to be perfect and for her and Tate to further solidify their recommitment to one another.

Tate took the hand not held by James, and for a moment she was suspended between the two men, one her husband, the other her Dominant for the evening. Tate gave her hand an encouraging squeeze but didn’t put to voice any of the things she saw in his eyes.

“The others will remain on the periphery,” Tate said in a low voice. “When and only when it is time for them to participate will you see them. Enjoy my gift to you, my girl. I know I certainly will enjoy every moment.”

Then he turned his attention to James. Chessy blinked because Damon had discreetly removed himself from the trio and she hadn’t even seen him leave.

“Undress her slowly,” Tate ordered. “And then prepare her as I already instructed you.”

The command in Tate’s voice sent a delicate shiver of delight cascading over her flesh. Her fingers curled into fists so her trembling wouldn’t be noticeable. Equal parts nervousness and anticipation vied for control.

James tugged firmly at her leash, pulling her away from Tate and closer to himself. Tate took a step back but kept a watchful eye on Chessy as James slowly began to divest her of her clothing.

“Very nice,” James murmured when he was down to just her stockings and stilettos.

He ran his hand over the swell of her behind and then grew bolder, sliding his palm underneath one breast. He brushed over the nipple with his thumb and it puckered in reaction, hardening to a point.

Her breath caught and then she let out a gasp when he lowered his head to her breast and sucked the nipple wetly into his mouth.

“Delicious,” he murmured. “You taste every bit as good as you look.”

Heat scorched over her skin and she lifted her gaze to find Tate, only focused on him even though another man was pleasuring her in his stead.

Her action brought immediate reprimand from James. He yanked on the leash, forcing her gaze back to him. His eyes glittered in irritation.

“I am your master tonight. He is only an observer. You are to look only at me and obey my commands.”

She started to launch an immediate protest because that wasn’t the case. No one but Tate would ever be called her master, and it was a silly term anyway. It wasn’t a word that she or Tate ever used. But something in James’s eyes halted her objection. She shivered and wanted to look to Tate for reassurance, to gain his reaction to James’s forceful dictate, but she didn’t dare look away from him again.

James ran his palm lightly over her jaw and then turned her body so her back was to Tate, effectively preventing her from the temptation of seeking her husband’s guidance. It confused her that Tate was allowing this man such leeway.

James positioned her over the bench that had an inverted, padded cutout that would cradle her abdomen. Then he stretched her arms outward, tying one wrist to one of the two posts situated in front of the bench. After securing one, he then secured her other wrist so she was stretched over the bench, her ass in the air, both arms tied tightly enough that there was no give when she tested the strength of the bonds.

James disappeared from her view and then she felt leather straps circle her ankles, securing them to the legs of the bench. She was spread wide, her most vulnerable areas accessible.