He takes the necklace from the box and circles behind me. His fingers brush my nape as he fastens the clasp, the pearls settling cool against my throat.
"Beautiful," he murmurs against my ear.
"Thank you, Sir," I whisper, lifting my hand to finger the strand of pearls. To anyone else, it looks like a classy necklace, but I know that it's more than that.
Then he produces the second item. Small, discreet, but unmistakably a vibrator.
My stomach flips.
"You'll wear this too. During the ceremony."
Eyes wide, I’m speechless for a moment. "Asher?—"
"I control when it turns on. When it stops." His breath ghosts across my cheek. "You'll stand beside me, smile for the guests, and remember exactly who you belong to."
My knees go weak, and I nearly whimper.
"Understand?"
"Yes, Sir."
His lips curve, satisfaction bleeding through his composure.
"Good girl."
30
GRACE
My father walks me down the aisle, and I’m thankful that the device tucked into my panties and pressed to my clit hasn’t started vibrating yet.
Kacey leads the procession down the ivory runner, wearing a gorgeous sapphire-blue dress styled by Vivian. Then the music shifts—strings swelling into something grand and timeless—and every head turns to me.
My legs shake as I take the first step.
Asher waits at the altar, hands clasped in front of him. The sharp cut of his tuxedo makes him look like he stepped out of a magazine spread. But his eyes burn as they lock onto mine.
My pulse hammers against the pearl collar locked around my throat, each step bringing me closer to him.
When I reach the altar, Dad kisses my cheek, places my hand in Asher's, then steps back.
The ceremony is in the Terrace Room at The Plaza, an ornate space coated in gold with its nods to the Gilded Age. It feels quintessentially New York, and while it's a little bold for my taste—and far beyond my budget—I can’t deny that it’s turned out beautifully.
Spring blooms cascade from every surface in whites and soft pinks. Rows of gilt chairs face forward, and on Asher’s side, they’re filled with Manhattan's elite. My side, however, is sparse, with just my immediate family.
Dad takes his seat next to my mother, who’s already dabbing her eyes with tissues pulled from her purse. My brothers are both there. Luke smiles at me, but Owen’s eyes are narrowed on Asher, like he’s assessing to make sure he’s good enough for me. He hasn’t taken the quick marriage news well, not that I thought he would.
The officiant begins, voice droning through the traditional script.
"Dearly beloved..."
Asher's thumb strokes across my knuckles. Once. Twice.
Then the vibration starts.
At first, it’s a subtle feeling. Teasing but not enough to make me come, just enough to keep me flustered.
I can handle that.
