Page 685 of Tease Me


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The wedding is an intimate affair, even if we have four hundred guests in attendance. It’s not public per se. Photographers and videographers have followed Luc and me separately all day and captured images for our private albums.

“Blair, it’s time for you to get dressed.”

I turn to the doorway of the bedroom we converted into a dressing room for me.

Alice Temperley walks inside with her two assistants and several dressers ready to help the girls and me get into our gowns.

My heart skips a beat as I realize it’s almost time to say I do to the man I love.

Once I’m dressed, I stare out the window at the magnificent gardens while I wait for my father to escort me to the chapel. A soft knock on the door brings my attention back to the room. I peer over my shoulder to find him smiling at me with tears in his eyes.

“How beautiful you are, sweetheart”—his voice hitches and he clears it before he continues—“So regal and stunning… My baby girl.”

Tears threaten to spill from my eyes. But he raises his hand and shakes his head.

“No crying. Only laughter and joy!” He proclaims.

I nod and suck in a shaky breath as I bow my head to gather myself. Then I place my hand on my father’s arm, and we make our way through the château to the ornate horse-drawn coach out front. The gold leaf and cream lacquer glimmer in the glow from the fairy lights strung on the château and throughout the estate’s acres.

A footman helps me up the step, and I settle on the soft leather seat.

My father joins me and beams.

“My little princess on her way to her prince,” he says, his voice gruff with emotion.

I nod, too overwhelmed to speak aloud. I take the time of the short ride along the path to the Montaigne family’s chapel to practice my deep breathing, hoping to calm my racing heart.

The surrounding land and the facade of the chapel also have strings of fairy lights. A choir singing fills the air with the sound of a harpist. The atmosphere is heavenly.

Once I alight from the coach, I pause to take it all in. My pulse races again as my face threatens to split from the smile that breaks out. I glance up at my father and he’s grinning, too.

Then the wedding planner spies us, and she ushers us into a side room. The dressers rearrange my gown. They place the cathedral-length veil on my head before they add the blusher and tiara.

Jillian walks in and adjusts my train and the veil over my gown.

I peer into the full-length mirror. Then smile at the sparkles that bounce off my opulent gown, my head from the tiara and my ears, décolletage, and wrist from the suite Luc gifted me. I feel like La Duchesse de Blois and I’m more than ready to marry mon Duc.

Jillian dabs her eyes and air kisses near my cheeks before she leaves the room to line up behind the rest of the bridal party. The pairs formed by Jasper and Billie, Leonie and Roger, and Malcolm Steele and Starr.

My father holds out his arm, and we follow Jillian to the wrought-iron gates at the entry to the chapel’s primary room. My breath catches at the sight of my fairy-tale wedding come true.

Thousands of fairy lights twine with the dark greens leaves and freesias around the gates, the columns, and up the walls to the ceiling, bathing the chapel in a soft, golden glow. An abundance of flowers ranging in hue from buttery yellow to champagne and ivory fills the chapel. Their floral scents waft through the air. The space is at once elegant and festive.

The bridal party turns to me, and everyone smiles as they murmur praises. Then the music changes for the start of the procession. Strains of the violins swirl around me and the sweet voices of the choir bring tears to my eyes as the chapel fills with the sounds.

When the last verse ends and the instruments continue to play, my father walks me down the aisle to mon Duc, my love, my Luc.

* * *

Luc

“Well Luc, this time tomorrow you’ll be a happily married man… to my daughter”—Roderick arches an eyebrow at me. My heart skips a beat, then he grins—“Here’s to you and your beautiful bride-to-be, my friend!”

He raises his crystal snifter in a toast.

The glint of the amber liquid reminds me of Blair’s hair wet with sweat after I’ve wrung multiple orgasms from her sweet, juicy pussy, and we—

“Damn, man! Get a grip on yourself with that goofy ass smile on your face!”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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