He’d sounded just like Sam.

Chapter Nineteen

On a worn-smooth wooden pew, Linda sat in the church waiting for the ceremony to begin. She’d been disappointed when Sam had called to tell her to go on to Jessica and Z’s wedding without him. Nonetheless, she was delighted to be present.

How could anyone not love the ritual when a couple formally began their life together? For that one moment, no second thoughts were allowed to intrude. Even the air in the church seemed filled with joyful anticipation.

She smiled. She’d been so young when she and Frederick had married. If she’d waited to gain a bit more experience, perhaps she’d have made a wiser choice. But then she wouldn’t have Brenna and Charles. And really, her marriage had been more happy than sad.

A gurgle of laughter came from beside her. Having defeated the other submissives, Sally cuddled Zane, Kari’s adorable baby. He was having a wonderful time tugging on her long hair. Tanner, the male trainee, had squeezed closer, obviously awaiting his chance to snatch the baby for himself.

The rest of the row was filled with all the single Shadowlands submissives who weren’t serving as bridesmaids. The club had shown up in force, filling the church with the wonderful diversity of the membership—not only a range of ethnicities, but also the wide variety of sexual, gender, and relationship choices.

Obviously, Z wasn’t ashamed of his friends. Linda shook her head. Once they married, would Z and Jessica still manage to balance the BDSM side of their lives with the vanilla world?

* * * *

In the bridal suite, Jessica looked at herself in the mirror. Thank God, Gabi was an expert with makeup. Jessica’s hands had been shaking so hard that she’d have ended up with mascara everywhere…and probably have poked her eye out with the wand. “I’m getting married,” she told herself.

Her bridesmaids burst into laughter, and Andrea added, “No. Really?”

Jessica turned on the chair. Damn, she loved these women—the submissives of the Shadowlands Masters. It had seemed so appropriate that their groomsmen and bridesmaids would be the attached couples in the Masters. Kari and Dan, Beth and Nolan, Andrea and Cullen, Gabi and Marcus, Kim and Raoul. She gave them a watery smile.

Beth set her hands on her hips. “Don’t you start that crying business. Gabi already put her makeup kit away.”

“No, Ma’am. I won’t, Ma’am.” Jessica grinned at Beth. “You were such a cute Mistress at the party. What did Nolan say when he saw you all Dommed up?”

“He said I was cute too. But then he wanted to see if I could dominate him. As if.” The slender redhead rubbed her bottom. “Don’t ever let Z get one of those evil stick things. That thwap really hurts.”

As everyone laughed, Jessica heard Z outside the bridal room. Even after two years, she still got quivers when she heard his deep voice.

In the hallway, her mother said something that sounded like a protest.

Z answered firmly. “This is a tradition also.” Ignoring the sputtering response, he walked past her mother and Aunt Eunice into the room and set a large gift bag on the floor. When he spotted Jessica, still in her underwear, his eyes warmed. “You’re absolutely lovely, kitten.”

Under his gaze… She felt beautiful.

He glanced at the women. “Give us a few minutes, please.” No matter how politely phrased, it was a command from a Dom to a group of submissives.

Without a word, they disappeared into the hallway where her mother was having a whisperfest with Eunice.

What in the world was going on? “Zachary?”

“Try again.” His eyes had turned a dark gray that melted her insides.

“Master?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled—the best reward she’d ever found. He rested his hands on her shoulders. “We decided you’d receive your submissive collar in the wedding ceremony instead of a separate one. Since we’re not in a formal Master/slave relationship, that seemed right.”

She nodded. They’d had a long discussion about how to integrate everything.

“But I decided I want more.”

“More?”

He lifted her to her feet. His faint smile and the glint in his eyes sent a tremor deep into her bones. “You’re mine, Jessica. My submissive. My wife. And the ceremony makes the spouse role more important than the submissive.” He opened the bag he’d brought into the room and took out a…

“A corset?” A new one of pure white lace and satin that would go from her breasts to her hips and as beautiful in its own way as her wedding dress.

“Indeed.” His gaze darkened. “Strip, please.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Now?”

At the slight rise of his chin, she hurriedly pulled off her silky bra and thong.

“Hands up.” As he wrapped the corset around her, she frowned at the perfect fit. “Where did you get this?”

“Your wedding gown seamstress used your other corset as a guide and changed your wedding dress accordingly.”

No wonder the woman had that odd gleam in her eyes during the last fitting.

Z laced up the corset far more quickly than any man should. With a darkly wicked chuckle, he said, “Brace yourself, little one.”

She felt tugging and more tugging as the corset tightened. And tightened. “I can’t breathe.”

“Give it a minute.” He patted her bottom. “Move around the room.”

As she walked, the corset loosened or maybe her insides were being squashed up against her lungs.

After a couple of minutes, he horrified her by tightening the laces until she could only squeak. With firm hands, he turned her around to face him, and his face held the stern, caring expression that had dropped her heart at his feet on the first night they’d met. “The way you look at me… I love you, Jessica.”

To gain his approval, she would let him lace her to the width of a beanpole.

His gaze heated. Then he shook his head. “Ravishing the bride before the wedding would be bad form.” A crease appeared in his cheek as he ran his finger along the top of the corset where her breasts were pressed upward into X-rated exposure. “Hopefully the tailor calculated correctly, or you’ll give the preacher a heart attack.”

The warmth of his fingers seared her skin, slid deep inside her.

“I’m looking forward to freeing these pretty breasts and then taking you. Hard. And easy. And slow. And fast. All night.”

She closed her eyes as her insides turned to lava, and she dampened. Where was that thong, by the way? She’d definitely need to wear—

“No underwear, Jessica.”

What? Her eyes opened to meet her Master’s steel-gray gaze. “But—”

“As you walk down the aisle to me—and for the rest of the evening—you’ll feel the tightness of the corset that I laced you into,” he said, his voice deeper, authority resonating with every word. “You’ll feel the control I have over you. Over your body…and your life.” He brushed her lips with his, leaving her wanting more. “The collar I’ll put on you will be the outward symbol that you’re mine. But as with all power exchanges, the real truth is buried deep within, just as this symbol of my control is hidden from the world under your dress. Do you understand?”

As if something had slid into place, she felt…right. Balanced. Even if he wasn’t beside her, he still exerted his control. “I love you, Master.”

* * * *

Due to a downed fence and scattered cattle, Sam had told Linda to go to the wedding without him since he’d be late. He came in the church’s side door and took a seat at the end of the third row as quietly as possible. Looked like he’d arrived in good time. A shame he’d missed seeing the bride come down the aisle though.

Stretching out his legs, he watched as the ceremony proceeded with both dignity and warmth, quite typical of Z yet with some of Jessica’s exuberance.

The Dom had done well in selecting his mate. Had gone slow after meeting her. Sam knew Z hadn’t wanted to push his lover into a commitment, especially since he was older. But she was thirty, and a woman usually knew her own mind by then. Jessica might be submissive, but she assuredly had her own strong opinions.

As the couple exchanged rings to the usual vows, the bride radiated happiness.

Sam sighed, feeling on the older side. Jessica had been delightful as she ventured into the club, into the lifestyle, and into a relationship. Although they’d started with playing in the bedroom, Z’s dominance had slowly extended outward. They hadn’t ended up with a Master/slave relationship, but the D/s dynamic was definitely part of their everyday lives.

He had to admit to feeling some envy.

His ex-wife had regarded BDSM with loathing, and he’d never tried to change her mind. But in the Shadowlands, he saw what he’d missed as the couples worked out what fit them. Some had gone from Master/slave to a limited power exchange; some went the other way.

As he glanced across the aisle, his gaze fell on the row of submissives who weren’t bridesmaids. All were beaming, some in tears. Why did women cry at these things? Uzuri, Dara, and Rainie sat in a line. Sally was bouncing Kari’s baby on her knee, while Tanner diverted the boy with the BDSM symbol on his keychain. Next to Sally was… Sam straightened.