Page 27 of Bound and Beguiled

“I’ll keep her safe, don’t worry.” Mared kissed the other woman’s knuckles, giving me a promising look over them.

Efa’s expression softened. “I know you will, Babygirl.”

“You haven’t told us the most important part, though,” Mared teased, leaning forward. “What do you wear?”

I blinked. “Uh, traditionally both parties wear white robes for the ceremony. Afterwards, they change into a set with red embroidery for the feast and dancing.” An embarrassed, uncomfortable smile twisted my lips. “In the old days, couples were expected to be chaste until their binding. The new ‘bloody’ robes were proof of their consummation. It doesn’t play out that way so much anymore, but, you know. Tradition.”

Emyr covered my hand with his, saying nothing, and I closed my eyes as his warmth washed away the bad memories.

“Hmm. And these robes, are they fairly loose?”

I nodded at Mared’s question, my eyes still closed. There was a rustle, the sound of fingers tapping, then she said, “I think you should wear this! Knock them all on their asses.”

Slivering my eyes open, I gazed at the picture glowing from her phone with something very near to horror. A woman smirked at me; her centerfold body barely contained by a series of stretchy red straps.

“No.”

“It would make a statement.”

“No.”

“What if you just wore it for me, then?”

“N—” I stopped, really looking at her, and a flush of heat rose to my cheeks. “Maybe. But not in public. And definitely not to the ceremony.”

Mared pulled me in for a kiss, purring promises against my lips.

Emyr grabbed the phone, whistling. “Oh, yeah, I’d pay to see you in that. But I agree, that’s a ‘fuck me’ dress, not a ‘see me and despair’ dress. What about...yes!” He shoved the phone between us, and Mared and I broke apart a little breathlessly.

This model’s vibe was more regal. She looked to the side, posing in a floor-length sweep of glittering red that faded to black at the hem. It covered her completely, yet every curve of her body was showcased by the tight fit.

“That’s beautiful. I don’t think it would look nearly as good on me, though.” I looked down at my body, underwhelmed.

“It would be stunning on you,” Efa murmured, but Mared and Emyr were already bickering about what would be the “perfect” dress, their thumbs flying over their phones.

Photo after photo of glossy, gorgeous women in glossy, gorgeous gowns flew over their screens. I rubbed my neck.

“What if I went in jeans?”

Silence met my words.

“I mean, it’d make a statement, right?”

“It would...” Efa tilted her head, endless black eyes drilling into my soul. “It’s your body and your decision, Reza. I’ll support whatever choice you make.”

I blew out a breath, beginning to nod.

“That being said,” Efa continued, stilling my movement. “If this choice is brought on by some foolishness about your perceived unattractiveness, I’m going to have to disagree. You’re a beautiful woman. And I, for one, am dying to see the expression on that asshole’s face when he sees exactly what he squandered away with his selfishness.”

My mouth went dry. It took a couple swallows before I found enough spit to talk without croaking. “I guess I could try on a dress...or two.”

“Yes!” Mared whooped, bouncing off the bed. “I’ll be back before you know it. Emyr, will you come with me? I want your help picking out some...accessories.”

Emyr grinned, waggled his eyebrows at me, and followed in her wake. They waved dismissively at my shout of, “Nothing too short!” as the door clicked shut behind them.

I slumped, bewildered at the sudden exit.

“You’ll get used to it,” Efa commiserated. “They’re like a tornado when they get together. Come on,” she said, standing and offering me a hand. “We’ll grab a shower and start getting things ready downstairs. There’s a good band coming in tonight, so it’s going to be packed. Worries weigh less when your hands are busy.”

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