The ceremony happensoutside under a pergola attached to the house.
That's the word I keep using in my head, because the wordweddingfeels wildly inappropriate for what this is. Ceremony is more honest. Ceremonies happen for all kinds of reasons.
Funerals, for example, are ceremonies.
And right now, I feel like I’m walking to my own funeral.
I walk down in my bare feet. For all of the planning that Nico made for this impromptu wedding, he didn’t plan on giving me a pair of shoes. The heels I chose for Bella’s wedding are still in my luggage back at Mom’s house.
And even though I want to ruin this day for him, I can’t bring myself to wear my sneakers to my own wedding.
There’s a man standing at the position where a priest normally would stand. He has a brooding expression, made all the more intimidating by the dark hair falling across his eyes. In his right hand is a small leather box.
And beside him is Nico.
He's standing under the pergola with his back to me, one hand is in his pocket, looking out at the treeline where he caught me. He's wearing a dark suit today, and it fits him the way all his clothes do–like the fabric knows better than to be anything other than perfect on his body.
When the other man raises his eyebrows, Nico turns around.
The morning light reflects off the scar along his jaw, and my curiosity returns about justhowhe got that scar at such a young age. When he sees me, he freezes and stares.
There’s a gentle breeze in the air, but I can’t feel it as he takes in my appearance and I stare back at him.
His blood-red tie is cinched tight around his throat, and the light scruff on his jaw is gone, which is too bad, because I almost prefer him looking just a little bit disheveled. His head cocks to one side, his lips curve up into a ghost of his smile, and my heart flutters in my throat before an unexpected warmth moves up my cheeks.
I swallow, and his gaze follows. The warmth drops into my stomach and keeps going until it settles into a dull pulsing ember between my legs.
His eyes stay at my throat for just a moment before moving down my neck and bared shoulders. My breathing grows quicker and shallower as it comes to a temporary stop at the curve of my breasts, then down my belly towards my thighs and bared toes.
Every inch of my skin burns where he looks, and the dress suddenly feels hot and itchy. He curls his finger towards me and makes a beckoning motion. An involuntary shudder sends a burst of wet warmth thrumming in my clit as I remember how he felt inside of me last night.
Then, my feet start moving on their own. One step after another until I’m staring up at him.
Up close now, I can smell his cologne embedding itself in my lungs. The scent of driftwood and salt. Somewhere in thedistance, I swear I can hear the sea crashing against the shore. Suddenly I wonder what it might feel like for him to lay me out on the rocks as his tongue laps the salt from my skin.
His hand reaches up and tugs an errant strand of hair behind my ear. The pads of his fingers leave a trail of fire behind, and I manage to bite back the small moan that almost tumbles out of my lips.
"Shall we?" he asks.
I nod. He gives a gesture to the other man, and the ceremony officially begins.
When we reach the part that requires my response, I sayI doin a voice that’s surprisingly even given how hard my heart is pounding.
Nico does the same.
A pair of rings is handed to Nico. He takes my left hand and pushes mine onto my finger. It’s a simple golden band and nothing like what I expected my wedding ring to look like. Then, he drops a ring in my hand and holds out his.
I can throw this ring and make him go get it. Wouldn’t that be something? But I’m pretty sure that if I do, he’ll just put a different one on, and then punish me for it later.
So, like an obedient bride, I slip the ring onto his finger.
"You may kiss the bride," the other man says.
I turn and look up at him. He towered over me when I had been wearing heels. And now in my bare feet, he might as well be a giant. His amber eyes drop to my mouth for just a moment, andhis hand comes up to cup my jaw with a gentleness that I hadn’t been able to expect.
"What does this make me?" I ask. “No bullshit. Tell me the truth.”
His voice drops. “It makes you my wife.”
