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Authors: Maya Banks

BOOK: Taking it All
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Tate let out a low growl. “They have no right to judge anything. What we do is our business and our business alone. Our marriage is not up for public speculation. Ever.”

Chessy's accusing eyes found his. “It seems that if you were living up to your promise and acting as a true Dominant, not to mention husband and lover, that no one would
have
fodder to point out your shortcomings.”

The shot hit home and left him devoid of speech for several moments. She was right and it hurt that he had no comeback. No excuse.

“There's no one else in this relationship except you and me,” he finally said in an even voice. “I readily admit that I've royally fucked up and I intend to rectify that starting now. This is our anniversary weekend and I intend to salvage it.”

She looked at him for a long moment, hope stirring in her eyes. “How?” she whispered.

“It goes beyond a simple weekend,” he continued, briefly ignoring her question. “There's a hell of a lot more I have to make up for and a weekend won't do that. I have to start over, from the beginning, and make damn sure I never let you down again. Going forward you will be put first in everything, Chessy. I don't expect you to believe it right away. I have to regain your trust and, God, I hope your love as well. I'm not letting you go without a fight.”

Chessy's expression softened and she offered him the first smile he'd seen in so very long. He couldn't remember the last time she'd smiled, and that hurt him. He couldn't look back and pinpoint a time. And now he realized just how long she'd been miserably unhappy. He'd ignored it. Ignored the signs, so wrapped up in his job and ensuring his business grew and flourished after his partner had bailed. All at the expense of the one person he loved most in the world.

“I do love you, Tate. So very much. I've never
stopped
loving you.”

“Thank God,” he whispered fervently, relief pouring over him.

“I don't want to leave you,” she said as fervently as he had. “That was
never
an option for me. I hope I never gave you that impression. God, it's the very last thing I ever want. I can't imagine my life without you—your love. I just want . . .
us
 . . . back. That's
all
I want. Your dominance, your love, your
priority
. That isn't too much to ask, is it? Am I being selfish? I've fought with myself for
two years
, feeling guilty—and selfish—for craving your attention and love when I knew you were working so hard to keep your business going. But I can't do it anymore. I don't
care
if I sound selfish. I want us back!”

He pulled her into his arms, praying she didn't resist. He hugged her tightly, wrapping his arms around her, encompassing her until she was fully against him, her soft body molded to his. Finally she relaxed against him, her rigidity gone. She let out a soft sigh and rested her cheek against his chest.

“You aren't being selfish,” he said fiercely. “Everything you've said is what I should have been giving you. It's
my
failure, not
yours
. I swear to you, Chessy, everything is going to change starting now. I know I fucked up our anniversary night, but I want a do-over. Everything starts now. We have the weekend just to ourselves. I'm turning my goddamn phone off. I don't give a fuck about business. Not if it means I don't have you.”

He pulled her gently away so he could look into her eyes, judge her decision. They were full of hope—and relief.

“Baby, I know a weekend can't fix what's between us. I know I have to regain your trust and faith in me and that's going to take longer than a few days, but I swear to you that if you give me the chance, I'll get us back. That's what you said you wanted, wasn't it?”

Slowly she nodded.

“Then that's what I'm going to work on,” he vowed. “It—and you—will be my foremost priority. I know you'll have to wait and see to judge my sincerity, but I will
not
give you any reason to doubt where you are on my priorities from this point forward.”

Then she smiled and he couldn't breathe. It was so radiant, lighting up the room. His old Chessy, the one who sparkled and shone just by
being
was back, even if just for a moment. The light that he'd effectively stomped out repeatedly over the last while. God, all he wanted to do was take her to bed and make love to her.

“That's all I want, Tate,” she whispered. “Just you. Nothing else. I don't care about money and financial security if I don't get to enjoy it with the man who holds my heart.”

The man who holds my heart.

The sheer magnitude of that statement was humbling. He very nearly went to his knees in front of her to beg her forgiveness all over again.

“Kiss me,” he whispered, so choked up he could barely get the words out.

He gently cupped her face, framing it in his hands, and he lowered his mouth to hers, drinking in her sweetness and the sweet little sigh she breathed into his mouth.

He stroked her cheeks, caressing, unable to get enough of simply touching her, tangling his hands in her wayward curls.

“Will you make love with me, Chessy? Right here and now? Let me seal my promise to you?”

Her intake of breath was swift and her gaze lifted to his, hazy with desire, her pupils dilated in familiar fashion. Thank God she still wanted him. That her heart was big enough for forgiveness. He didn't suffer any illusion that another woman would have walked away a long time ago. But his girl had a heart the size of the state they lived in.

“I want that,” she whispered, leaning her cheek into his palm as if seeking his touch. “So much, Tate.”

He slid one arm underneath the bend of her legs and then anchored his other around her waist, effortlessly lifting her to cradle her in his arms.

For a long moment, all he did was stare into her eyes, absorbing her acceptance like a parched desert soaking in its first rain in months.

And then he slowly walked toward
their
bedroom.

SIX

CHESSY
relaxed her body against Tate's, absorbing his strength, his solid, muscled frame as he walked them through the doorway of their bedroom. She rested her head on his shoulder and splayed her fingers out across his chest just below the hollow of his throat.

How many weeks—months—had she yearned for this? To be made love to, with or without all the accouterments of dominance, by her husband. Her entire heart, body and soul ached for him. To reconnect in the most intimate of ways, to say with their bodies all they couldn't say with mere words.

She was almost afraid of his phone ringing. It was only with the fiercest of restraints that she didn't search for it, looking to see if it was attached to his hip as it always was. She forced herself not to think about it and to savor his promise that finally, finally he was focusing on just the two of them. No business associates, no clients—potential or otherwise. Just her and him and trying to rebuild all that they had lost.

He gently laid her down on the bed, standing over her, a fierce gleam in his eyes. His gaze was predatory as it raked over her, undressing her before he even touched her rumpled pajamas.

A delicate shiver worked its way over her body. Delicious anticipation. So much wanting and desire pent up inside her that she felt near to bursting.

Then he reached down and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her pajama bottoms and slid them slowly and reverently down her legs. He tossed them aside and then carefully unbuttoned her top from the bottom up, parting the material so her breasts were bared.

He lifted her just enough that he could pull the top free and it went the way of her bottoms, disappearing from view. All that was left was the lacy, sheer panties that she'd purposely worn the evening before in anticipation of their anniversary.

Tate stared down at her, his eyes glowing in appreciation, taking in her near-naked body lying on the bed below him.

“You're so beautiful,” he whispered. “The most beautiful girl in the world to me.”

She was sure she glowed as she smiled up at him, absorbing his words into her heart. She held up her arms for him, inviting him to lower himself onto her body. He took only long enough to strip out of his clothing before complying with her silent request.

His cock pressed against the V of her legs as his body blanketed hers. He nuzzled his lips against her neck and then kissed and sucked a line down to her breasts, shifting his body downward so he could feast on her.

He circled her nipple with his tongue, coaxing it to a rigid bud before sucking it firmly between his teeth. He flicked his tongue over the tip, his teeth grazing the tender flesh. She squirmed beneath him, breathless with pleasure.

She caressed his shoulders, enjoying the ridges of his muscles, tracing with her fingertips, the flesh solid and firm beneath her touch.

Then he went lower still. After giving each breast equal treatment, his mouth trailed down her belly in a damp line. He nuzzled into the soft tuft of hair between her legs and then he ran his thumb down the seam of her pussy. He parted the delicate folds and licked from her opening up to her clit.

Her hips arched, a soft moan escaping her. Tate knew so well how to please her. Every touch. Every kiss. Every caress. He knew her body better than she knew it herself. He always sensed what she needed even before she did and immediately gave her what it was she wanted. She never had to ask.

His tongue slid inside her, lapping gently against the walls of her vagina. He sucked as his tongue withdrew, causing her to clench in protest, wanting that delicious sensation not to end.

His hands slid underneath her ass, cupping the globes firmly as he lifted her higher so he could devour her with his mouth. Already she could feel the fluttering in her womb that signaled the rise of her orgasm.

“My girl is close,” Tate said against her clit, his breath blowing over the quivering bud. “Do you want to come now or do you want me inside you?”

As if he needed an answer to that question. She always wanted him inside her. Wanted them both to fall over the edge together.

“Inside me,” she said breathily. “I need you, Tate.”

Still, he teased and tormented her, bringing her right to the brink and then retreating, allowing her to ease back from the edge. Just when she thought she'd scream in frustration, he slid up her body, opening her legs wide as he settled between them. He nuzzled her breasts, teasing them to rigidity before finally sliding inside her.

Her breath caught, unable to escape her chest as he pushed inside her. He was met with slight resistance as she stretched to accommodate him.

“Take me,” he growled.

It was a command he often gave her, one that sent delicious chills over her body. It was a game they played. As though she were reluctant to take him whole and he was determined to get there.

He withdrew and then thrust hard, seating himself fully, her gasp echoing through the room.

“All of me,” he commanded. “You'll take all of me.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Take me, Tate. You own me.”

He withdrew again and hammered forward, his hips pressed against her behind as he strained to reach maximum depth.

“How much can you take, Chessy?” The silky words slid over her ears, sending an uncontrollable shiver over her body. “No mercy. I'm going hard. I want you to come for me. Let go.”

Then he began thrusting hard and fast. The slap of flesh against flesh filled her senses. Her entire body tightened as her orgasm swelled and built, an inferno erupting all around her.

She sobbed his name as the room blurred around her. But through it all, she could see his face, his eyes intently boring into hers, demanding her submission. She gave it freely. For this man she'd give anything at all.

His body came down on hers, his forearms propped against the mattress on either side of her body. His hips undulated, rising and falling. Their breaths mingled and his mouth found hers in a heated rush that left her breathless. His tongue mimicked the motions of his cock, fucking her mouth just like his cock fucked her pussy.

She hitched her legs higher, tilting her pelvis up so she could take even more of him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, anchoring herself to him and then lifted to meet every thrust, matching his motions so they moved in perfect unison.

“I love you,” Tate said into her mouth. “I'll always love you, Chessy. I need you to believe that.”

“I love you too,” she breathed.

Then she closed her eyes, her body so taut she felt near to breaking. His words mixed with the deep thrusts unraveled her at the speed of sound.

She reached for his shoulders, digging her fingers into his solid flesh.

“That's it, baby. Give it to me,” Tate said in a soothing tone.

And then she simply burst. Pleasure bloomed and exploded around her. Her body seemed to fly in a hundred different directions all at once.

She was panting, trying desperately to draw air into her starved lungs. And then Tate tensed above her, his brow creased into an expression that bordered on pain. He thrust hard and then again and then he stilled, his hips pumping spasmodically against her body.

His release flooded her, hot and silky. He moaned as his hips twitched, each surge of cum causing another spasm.

Then he finally lowered his head to hers, so their foreheads touched and their noses bumped.

“God, I've missed you, baby,” Tate said in a voice full of regret. “I'm so sorry. So damn sorry.”

“Shhh,” she whispered. “Not now. Not when everything is so perfect. Let's put the past behind us where it belongs. We have so much to look forward to.”

He kissed her lingeringly, their tongues dancing and teasing.

“I'll always put you first from now on,” he vowed. “You'll never question your place in my heart or soul.”

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