Page 81 of Married to My Master

Rather than an obnoxiously long train, or too many ruffles and lace, she'd opted for a simple ivory dress. Nothing too ostentatious or extravagant, but just graceful and lovely. It was the perfect match to their perfect wedding.

Emily walked slowly down the aisle, veil over her face, the bouquet she clutched made from the flowers she'd started to grow with the advice Dane had given her last year. She smiled at him from beneath the simple material, her crimson red lips lovely and inviting, her perfect teeth pearly and straight.

Across from Dane, Jas grinned at them both as Emily handed off the bouquet and turned back to Dane. Together, they lifted her veil, and the whole world seemed to brighten like a second sun had just been born in the backyard.

“You look beautiful,” Dane whispered, still in a daze.

“You don't look half bad yourself, sir,” she said with a sly wink.

He grinned back at her as the officiant began the short ceremony. As he looked deeply into her eyes, he saw their dark past, the things he had done to her, and those he had done for her. He saw Emily strapped to the dining room chair, the belt around her neck as he gave her their first orgasm, his stripping of her ego, as well as her clothes. Their beginning had been dark, that was true. But it had been passionate.

Dane also saw the future in her clear, blue eyes, watched it unspool before him. He saw their future children, their friends and family, the holidays together, travel, and gardening. They would have all the simple parts of life. He envisioned her smiling face as she came home from work or her holding their child. He would wake up next to her each morning and go to sleep beside her each night. These would be the simple moments that, when piled together one upon another, would jumble together into the mess of life.

“Dane? Your vows?” the officiant asked.

Dane glanced to the man, nodding.

“The bride and groom decided to write their own vows. Dane, please?”

He swallowed, let out a nervous breath, and took her hands in his. “Emily,” he began, licking his lips nervously as he gently squeezed her hands, “I promise to you that I will keep you in my heart, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer. I promise I will stand beside you, prop up your spirits when you need help, and build you higher, for however long we may be together.”

Her face radiant and otherworldly in its beauty, she squeezed his hands tightly as he came to a finish, a single tear escaping from her eyes and running down her cheek.

The officiant turned to the bride. “Emily?” he asked, with a slight incline of his head. “Your vows?”

# # #

Emily

Emily took a deep breath, returning Dane's warm smile.

She wasn't the neglected girl she'd been before she met him. She wasn't fighting the same way for her place in a man's world. She'd gotten there, now. She was who she had always hoped she would be. She didn't have to act superior, or try to lord her success over anyone, especially not Dane. But, at the same time, she still didn't need to be forced into submission with him, either. She knew she could willingly submit to him anytime she wanted, and that he'd reward it with his own tenderly painful caress.

This man clinging to her hands just as tightly as she clung to his was her perfect match. A man strong enough to be his own person, and strong enough to bend her to his will. He was strong enough to deal with her when she needed to exert her own independence. He knew her own actions didn't lessen his, and that her own accomplishment didn’t lessen his self-worth.

“I promise, Dane, to be with you through thick and thin, richer and poorer. To love you, and hold you, and to always come home to you. To build you up, to never tear you down, and to always trust that you know what is right. You were my guiding light once, and my conscience when I needed one. And you always will be.”

“Do you have the rings?”

Emily and Dane turned to their respective escorts and took the wedding rings from them as the officiant went through his little speech on the importance of their symbolism. Then, they exchanged their rings and said their, “I dos.”

“Then, by the power vested in me,” the officiant said, “I now pronounce you man and wife. Dane, you may kiss the bride.”

Dane took her into his strong, warm, supportive arms and pulled her close to his body. They kissed, holding each other upright in this crazy world. As they broke apart, they grinned at each other like lovesick idiots. But they were happy lovesick idiots.

Chapter Forty

Dane

Emily lay on the giant bed in the honeymoon suite they'd rented for that evening. She'd purchased some special black lingerie, and her big blue eyes were just as seductive as the first time she'd given herself to him.

In Dane's hand was the vibrator he'd first found in her bedroom. In his other, the belt he'd worn.

His wife raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow questioningly as she gracefully shifted onto all four and began to crawl across the bed to him. “Forget the collar, sir?” she purred, as she came to a stop in front of him, her lust-filled eyes lifted to his.

He halved the belt into a loop in his hand, stroking the bulging side of the makeshift leather down her cheek.

She shivered, a delicious sight for her husband as the involuntary reaction trembled through her whole body, and closed her eyes, her lips parting slightly in anticipation of the fun about to come.

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