Page 55 of Tame Me Daddy

My heart quickened as Grant led me toward the cleared space at the room's center. A small table draped in deep blue fabric stood there, holding a wooden box I recognized from Grant's dresser. The gathering formed a loose circle around us, faces bright with anticipation and genuine happiness.

The woman who had called for attention—Catherine, who owned The Sanctuary with her husband—stepped forward.

"We've gathered tonight to witness the collaring of Cherry by Grant," she began, her voice carrying a natural gravity that commanded respect. "For those in our community, this ceremony represents a deep commitment—not just of romance or partnership, but of a specific dynamic that honors both individuals fully."

Her eyes found mine, warm with understanding. "Cherry has asked for a simple ceremony, but one that acknowledges the journey that brought her here. Grant?"

Grant turned to face me fully, his steady brown eyes holding mine without wavering. In that moment, I saw everythingthat had drawn me to him—strength without cruelty, authority without abuse, care without control.

"Cherry," he began, his deep voice dropping to a register meant only for me, though all could hear. "When you first arrived at Warwick Ranch, I saw someone running from herself as much as from others. What I've watched unfold these past months has been nothing short of remarkable—your courage in embracing all parts of yourself, your dedication to the animals in your care, your willingness to be vulnerable and authentic."

His hands reached for mine, warm and calloused from years of ranch work. "The collar I offer tonight isn't a symbol of ownership, but of protection. Not of control, but of trust. I promise to create space for every facet of who you are—the strong, capable woman who trains wild horses, and the sweet, playful girl who needs nurturing care."

I heard a soft sniffle from somewhere in the circle—probably Lily, who cried at commercials about puppies. But I kept my eyes on Grant, anchoring myself in his steadiness.

"With this collar," he continued, "I promise to cherish all parts of you—the strong and the vulnerable, the woman and the little girl. To create space for you to be fully yourself, to guide you when you need guidance, to walk beside you when you need a partner, and to carry you when the path gets too rough."

A lump formed in my throat, but I didn't look away. These weren't just ceremonial words; they were promises I knew he would keep. He had already proven it a hundred times over.

Catherine turned to me. "Cherry, do you have words to share?"

I nodded, surprising myself with the steadiness of my voice when I spoke. "I spent most of my life hiding pieces of myself—ashamed of needs I couldn't understand, afraid of judgment I couldn't bear. In finding you, Grant, I found permission to be whole."

My fingers tightened around his. "With this collar, I promise you my trust. Not blind obedience, but the harder trust of showing you every part of myself without fear. I promise honesty, even when it's difficult. And I promise to believe in your care, to accept the guidance you offer, and to remember that surrender isn't weakness but another kind of strength."

Someone in the circle murmured approval. I caught Maya's eye; she gave me a subtle thumbs-up that made warmth bloom in my chest.

"The collar?" Catherine prompted gently.

Grant released my hands and turned to the wooden box. When he opened it, I glimpsed the glint of silver in the soft light. He lifted out a delicate chain with a small pendant—a key, simple but beautiful.

"Kneel, if you wish," he said quietly.

I did, not out of obligation but as a physical expression of the trust my words had promised. The hardwood floor was cool against my knees, but I felt only the rightness of the moment. Grant's fingers were gentle as they brushed my hair aside, exposing my neck.

The chain felt cool as he draped it around my throat, but his fingers were warm as they worked the clasp. The pendant settled in the hollow of my throat—a small weight that felt like an anchor rather than a burden.

"The key," Grant explained, his voice carrying to our gathered witnesses, "represents Cherry's power to unlock every aspect of herself—to access all the rooms of her identity and to open doors she once kept closed out of fear."

His hands cupped my face as I rose to my feet. For a moment, we existed in a bubble of silence, a sacred space where only we existed. Then he kissed me—gentle but sure—and the room erupted in applause and cheers.

Lily bounded forward first, throwing her arms around both of us. "It's perfect!" she exclaimed, pulling back to examine the collar with expert eyes. "You look complete, Cherry. Absolutely complete."

That word struck me deeply. Complete. Not fixed or changed or corrected—just whole in a way I'd never been before. I touched the key pendant with wondering fingers as more friends pressed forward with congratulations and good wishes.

The ceremony portion of the evening complete, the gathering shifted into celebration mode. Someone turned up music, champagne appeared in elegant flutes, and the formal atmosphere relaxed into something more festive. I found myself passed from conversation to conversation, accepting hugs and well-wishes with a joy that bubbled up from somewhere deep inside.

Every few minutes, my eyes sought Grant across the room. He stood talking with David and Matthew, his posture relaxed but his attention never fully leaving me. Occasionally, our gazes would lock, and the promise in his eyes made heat curl low in my belly—a reminder that this evening had more intimate celebrations yet to come.

Maya appeared at my side, champagne flute in hand. "So, collared, huh? Looks good on you."

I touched the pendant reflexively, still getting used to its presence. "It feels right," I said simply.

"I can see that," she replied, her teasing tone softening into something more sincere. "I've never seen you look more... settled in your own skin."

We stood together, watching the room—a collection of people who might seem strange to outsiders but who had become my community. People who understood lives that existed outside conventional boundaries and who celebrated authenticity above conformity.

"Thank you for coming," I said quietly. "For being so accepting."

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