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His smile was about as confident as she’d even seen as he lowered to one knee. The crowd went wild around her, cheering and clapping. She stayed focused only on him. “Presley, you’ve changed me. Changed me in ways that I wasn’t sure I could ever be changed. Not because you wanted me to be someone different, but simply because I wanted to be a better man for you.”
Tears rushed down her face as he added, speaking loudly and proudly for everyone to hear him, “I’ve made some mistakes. I can’t promise I won’t make more. But I can promise that I will always love you. I will always respect you. And I will always protect you. You will always come first.” Something hard and intense filled his gaze, warming her as he reached into his pocket. Her breath hitched as he opened a little black box, revealing a sparkling vintage ring. “Presley, will you honor me by becoming my wife?”
“Yes!” she all but shouted, and plowed into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Of course I’ll marry you.”
Loud applause and cheering erupted from the crowd. Dmitri laughed as he rose and then placed the ring on her finger. Once the ring settled to where it would stay forever, he kissed her—probably an inappropriately passionate kiss, since her parents and entire family were there, but Presley didn’t care. She gave him all of herself, poured all of her love into this moment.
He loved her.
She loved him.
So uncomplicated.
Once he broke the kiss and pocketed the box, he arched a brow. “You’re sure about this?”
“Yes, of course,” she replied, thinking the question odd. “I’ve never been so sure about anything.”
“Good.” He took her hand and turned slightly. “Because we’re doing this now.”
“What?” she gasped.
He glanced sideways, those piercing eyes zeroing in on her. “Seven days without you were enough to make me realize I cannot endure that again. There will not be another day that passes before everyone knows you are mine.” His chin lifted, pride evident in his voice. “My wife.”
She blinked, pulling her back from the trance those eyes were possible to put her under. “But what about the paperwork? The license?”
“Sometimes knowing the right people creates opportunities,” he said with a sly smile. “We’re doing things a little backward, but not to worry—it will be a legal marriage.”
Her head spun. Yes, she had prepared herself to be engaged, but married? Now? “Are you serious?”
“Very serious.” He gestured toward the man waiting near the stone statue of an angel on the walkway by the fountain. “You did say you wanted this. Have you changed your mind?”
“No.” She shook her head, squeezing her fingers around his. “I haven’t changed my mind.”
His grin was pure happiness, and she imagined just for this split second that perhaps this was a smile that his parents had seen on him as a child. Carefree. Blissfully elated. Knowing his parents weren’t here, since they had died long ago, only made her glad Dmitri had so many others who loved and respected him as much as she did.
Without another word, she followed Dmitri to their future.
The dark-haired officiant, dressed in a blue suit, smiled as they reached him. He didn’t hesitate; into a microphone fastened to his lapel, he said, “Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we’re here to witness the marriage of Dmitri Pratt and Presley Flynn…”
Nothing else of what he said registered as Presley glanced up at Dmitri. She realized then how important this moment was to them. This big show told her that Dmitri didn’t only want to marry her; he also wanted the world to know she was his wife. This would make news, there was no doubt about it. But she didn’t need the show—she needed only him.
The officiant went on, “Dmitri, please face Presley and take her hands, then repeat after me…”
Again, Presley heard only Dmitri’s powerful voice saying, “Presley, I promise to encourage your compassion, because that is what makes your soul shine. I promise to you perfect trust and perfect protection as we go on this journey together. You have seen me at my worst, but now I’m going to love you forever at my best. This is my vow to you.”
Tears rushed down her cheeks, because she knew all of what he said was spoken not only as her future husband but also as her Dominant. She listened to what she needed to say, realizing her vows were different from Dmitri’s. That told her that Dmitri had personally written them, and she became aware of how perfect they were. “Dmitri, I accept you as my husband.” As she had accepted him as her Dom. “I promise to live in truth with you, and to communicate fearlessly. I give you my hand and my heart, as a sanctuary of warmth and peace. And I pledge my love, devotion, and honor. This is my vow to you.”
A round of applause erupted, and Presley laughed through her tears, seeing Dmitri’s bright smile. The officiant went on. “The future is bright…”
Dmitri leaned in as if no one else was there, as if only Presley mattered now, his crystal-blue eyes only on hers—piercing eyes that had awakened a passion in Presley that she had never imagined existed. That look from him had been the start to a love so pure and perfect that they had inspired others in Club Sin to find that for themselves. “The future is…”
Presley saw it in the depths of his eyes, the promise he was offering now: a house (one without a dungeon in the basement), children filling their life with joy, and kinky nights when he would always make her feel as if she was the only woman who mattered to him.
She smiled. “Irrevocably ours.”
Epilogue
Mrs. Dmitri Pratt.
