Unbeknownst to anyone there but Adam, she also wore beautiful, delicate braided gold rings at her nipples and labia, a wedding gift from her jewelry design partner, Allie. Adam had pierced Shani as a birthday gift when she’d turned thirty, four months ago. She’d been nervous but eager for the piercings. Adam, in his usual Adam style, had made the event so sexy and intense that she’d barely noticed when the needles passed through her skin.
While they didn’t have a formalized Master/slave relationship, with each passing month, she belonged more completely to Adam. He dominated and cared for her as she had always longed for. She had fulfilled at last her dream of giving herself completely to a masterful, loving Dom.
This ceremony on the reservation was just for family, but they would have another, less formal, celebration later in the week with the wonderful friends they’d made in the BDSM community since resettling in Portland. Naturally, that party would involve full use of the fabulous dungeon and plenty of lovely whips, rope and chain.
To top everything off, they had planned a reception on Desire Island, with a decidedly BDSM theme. They still traveled a fair amount for Adam’s work, and had managed to return to the island twice in the past year. Shani missed her fellow staff slave girlfriends, and couldn’t wait to see them again.
But now her thoughts were on today’s ceremony. It was a perfect late spring day, the sky clear, the air fresh and cool.
Shani’s mother and sisters had been cooking all week in preparation. There was a long table laden with pots, platters and bowls, all covered now in foil to keep the insects away. There were Bunsen burners for the hot food, and ice-filled coolers full of soft drinks and freshly-squeezed lemonade. They had made traditional favorites like venison stew, corn and bean succotash, a three-bean casserole, the savory baked pumpkin Shani had loved as a child, along with a chicken and corn soup, roasted turnips, cold salmon with wild rice, several different berry and cornmeal puddings, and, of course, Nina’s famous frybread. In pride of place on a separate table stood a three-tiered traditional white wedding cake with a tiny plastic bride and groom on top, courtesy of Adam’s parents. A case of champagne was chilling in its own cooler beneath the table.
A portable dance floor had been set up nearby, and George had borrowed a sound system from a friend. All of Shani’s family and their children and significant others were gathered, seated on colorful woven blankets on the grass in the little park where the ceremony was being held. Yareli was heavily pregnant with her second child, and Malia sat beside her new fiancé, a really nice guy who worked at the garage with Jacy. Naira, who had been enlisted as the ring bearer, was at the moment running in circles behind the blankets, hopefully releasing some of her boundless child energy.
Chenoa, who had just turned eighteen, had recently discovered a passion for photography. Shani had put her in charge of taking photos, and she had been snapping pictures for the past hour, arranging people in posed groupings and then just milling around taking candid shots. George had stepped in to take several shots of all the girls together. Shani couldn’t wait to see the picture with Nina and she standing arm in arm, the sisters flanking them on either side.
Adam’s parents, whom Shani had met several months before at their winter beach house in Florida, were in attendance as well. They’d been a little stiff when she’d first met them, and had questioned her with disapproving gazes about her “Indian” heritage. But by the end of their four-day visit, his dad had thawed enough to tell rambling stories about his days in the Navy and about Adam’s many sporting accomplishments in middle and high school. Even better, Adam’s mom told Shani in private that she could see Adam loved her and she loved Adam, and that was all a mother ever wanted for her adult child.
The pair looked a little uncomfortable now as they perched in their formal attire on one of the wedding blankets, but they were smiling. Adam’s mother, Shani noted with pleasure, was wearing the silver and turquoise bracelet Shani had made for her.
At a nod from the tribal leader, Jacy got to his feet and corralled Naira. He led her to where Adam and Shani stood, facing the officiator. Naira looked adorable as she made her way solemnly to stand near them, wearing a pretty pink dress with a flouncy skirt, the ring box now clutched in her small hands.
It was Shani’s favorite time of day. The sun was just about to set, and the luminous air turned everything to gold. While Adam and Shani held hands before him, Ben Rainwater talked about traditions of the tribe, the sanctity of Native American marriage and the power of love. “Your spirits are now joined forever, and may they always walk hand-in-hand,” he said finally. “You may exchange your rings and say your vows.”
Jacy, who had remained near his little daughter, bent down and whispered to her. She opened the ring box and held it up to Adam. Smiling down at her, he took out Shani’s ring. She had made knotted wedding rings of rose gold. To the vanilla observer, they looked like traditional love-knot rings. But those in the BDSM community understood the additional symbolism of what were in fact bondage knots.
Adam took Shani’s left hand. His smile was so tender and filled with joy as he slipped the ring onto her finger that Shani’s eyes filled with tears. She took Adam’s larger, heavier ring from her little niece and slid it onto Adam’s long, slender finger, the tears now spilling down her cheeks, her heart nearly bursting with happiness.
Now it was time to say their vows. They’d practiced and memorized the few simple lines beforehand, taken from a traditional Native American ceremony. Shani could see all her family leaning forward on their blankets, eager to hear the words Adam and Shani would exchange. Shani’s heart began to hammer, her mouth going dry. Her mind had suddenly gone blank! She had no idea what they had been going to say. Fear coiled in her gut, panic making a lump rise in her throat.
But Adam, who always seemed to intuit her mood, took both her hands gently in his and fixed her with a steady, calming gaze. “You got this,” he mouthed silently, his lips lifting in a small, encouraging smile.
Then, he began in a loud, clear voice, “Shani, you are my wife. My feet shall run because of you.”
And all at once, she remembered.
“Adam, you are my husband,” she replied, pleased her voice didn’t quaver, though her knees were trembling beneath her gown, “and my feet shall dance because of you.”
Adam’s smile broadened, his green eyes crinkling at the corners. “My heart shall beat because of you.”
Shani’s heart slowed, the lump in her throat dissolving as she smiled back. “My eyes see because of you.”
“My mind thinks because of you,” he finished.
And then, in unison, they said, “And I shall love because of you.”
As they shared their first kiss as husband and wife, their families burst into cheers and applause. George popped the cork from a bottle of champagne and filled two flutes. He brought them to Shani and Adam as Chenoa clicked away with her camera. Toasts were made and the women bustled around, removing foil and stirring dishes as everyone lined up for the feast.
The food was delicious but Shani could barely eat a bite, too excited and happy to focus on the meal. Everyone ate, drank, laughed and shared stories, reminding Shani all over again how good it was to be surrounded by people she loved. The sun had set a while ago. The tiny lights her sisters had strung in the trees and around the tables sparkled under a dark blue sky filled with glittering stars.
Deciding it was time, Shani murmured to Adam and then got to her feet. She went over to the spot under a tree where she’d stowed her things and pulled out the small tote. Nina was on one of the blankets with Kaiah and Yareli. Shani found Chenoa playing tag with the children and asked her to find Malia and join her on Mama’s blanket.
When they were all settled, Shani said, “There aren’t words to express how grateful I am to have you as my family. Thank you for accepting Adam as a son and brother, and thank you for standing behind me, even when I ran away. Today was absolutely wonderful and I know Papa and
Grandma are watching us from the stars.”
“I feel their spirits beside me every day,” Nina said, tears in her eyes. Smiling, she added, “We’re so glad you’re happy, daughter. There is no greater gift than that.”
“Maybe not,” Shani said with a grin. “But just the same, I have a little gift for each of you. Something I made special for this day.” She opened the tote and drew out the five necklace boxes. She handed them around, saving the largest, special box for Mama.
The girls opened their boxes, which contained a silver star pendant set with a single, tiny stone at its center—a ruby for Kaiah, a diamond for Malia, an emerald for Yareli and a blue sapphire for Chenoa—on a simple silver chain. They took out the necklaces, cooing with pleasure and delight. Shani lifted her matching necklace from underneath her bodice. Her star was set with an amethyst.
“It’s the five stars,” Malia, who always got Shani, exclaimed. “One for each of the five noble warrior princesses.”
“They’re so beautiful, Shani,” Yareli exclaimed.
“I love mine the best,” Chenoa cried.
“They’re works of art,” Kaiah added in a reverent tone.
Shani looked to Nina, who was smiling broadly at the girls, her eyes bright with tears. “You haven’t opened yours, Mama.”
Nina looked down at the white box on her lap and lifted the lid. Inside was a longer silver chain with five stars identical to the ones each girl now wore around her neck. Nina stared down at it, the tears now spilling onto her lap.
“Don’t cry, Mama,” Chenoa said, leaning over to put her arm around Nina’s shoulders.
Nina looked up, her face luminous in the starlight. “They’re tears of happiness, daughter,” she replied as she leaned her head forward, allowing Shani to place the chain around her neck.
The music had started, and the three kids were careening around the makeshift dance floor. Adam appeared beside their blanket, smiling down at the girls. “Can I steal my lovely bride away for the first dance?” he asked.
“She belongs with you now,” Nina said with a nod. “Your spirits are already dancing together up in the stars.”
Shani took Adam’s extended hand. He pulled her up and led her to the dance floor as Kaiah shooed the kids away. Adam took Shani in his arms and pulled her close, one hand warm and comforting on her lower back as he took the other into his. They moved together to the music amidst more applauding and cheers. A moment later, the floor filled with couples eager to join in the dancing.
Shani lost herself in Adam’s gaze as he smiled down at her. There was a sparkle in his eyes from the reflected light, so that it looked like he had a tiny diamond in each iris. Though she loved her family with all her heart, Adam—her Dom, her life partner, her best friend—was her most precious shining star.
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And to get you started, here’s a sneak peek at Secrets – Chapter One!
Secrets – Chapter 1
The rope around Allie’s wrists was tight, her arms pulled taut and secured to the headboard. His hard body covered hers, his cock pummeling insistently inside her. The foreplay had been, if not quite as intense as she liked, certainly spicy, with plenty of spanking, nipple torture, clit teasing and even a good, thuddy flogging.
He had almost, though not quite, sent her flying as the whip licked and kissed her skin, the intensity increasing as he got more and more excited. Yes, yes, yes, yes, she’d silently shouted as the pain edged in that magical way toward something powerful and sublime. Allie had only experienced that kind of pure, ecstatic release that comes from handling, overcoming and finally embracing erotic pain once or twice in the scene, but it had been enough to keep her coming back for more.
He’d quit just before the miracle, though he’d seemed entirely unaware of what he’d done, or rather, failed to do, and Allie hadn’t told him. In her mind, if you had to tell them, then the connection wasn’t there, no matter how much you wished it could be.
“I own you.” He thrust hard inside her. She shifted, trying to find a better angle. He took that as a positive sign. “Yeah, that’s it, I’m going to make you come so hard, babe. You belong to me. I am your Master, to do with as I will.”
Okay, so he’d been reading too many bad erotic novels, or, more likely watching too much lousy BDSM porn online, but at least he was trying. The guy was sincere, if a little overbearing, and he appeared to be nearly as into her as he was into himself.
He pounded away, his breath rasping in his throat, his heart thumping beneath his sweat-slicked skin. His stroke was good now, tapping at her sweet spot from the inside out. Maybe, just maybe, it would be enough?
“Come on, slave girl,” he gasped. “I can feel it—you’re almost there. No one can resist Master Gene. Come for me. I order you to come.” He swiveled and thrust, urgency radiating from him like heat. “Do it. Now.”
Give him what he wants. You can do it. Meg Ryan has nothing on you.
Allie moaned and arched her hips upward. She began to pant. “Oh, oh, oh, oh! Yes, yes, yes!” She shuddered and stiffened, gripping him hard with her thighs. She squinted through slitted eyelids to peer at his face looming over hers. His eyes were squeezed shut, his head thrown back, the tendons on his neck distended as he hammered her into the mattress. She continued to sigh and moan in syncopated rhythm to his orgasmic cries.
Finally he lay still, the steady beat of his heart against hers the only sign of life. He was heavy and limp on top of her. The tip of Allie’s nose was itchy and her right calf was cramping. She longed to shove him off her. She wished fervently the ropes around her now chafed wrists would miraculously evaporate. She desperately needed a shower and a cold drink, preferably something eighty proof.
Allie closed her eyes and uttered a small, silent wish: disappear.
It didn’t work.
Finally he lifted himself on his elbows and peered down into her face. “Hey, you. You alive? I told you I’d make you come. Master Gene knows how to treat a sub girl, huh?” He grinned, the pride evident on his handsome face.
Allie smiled back and sighed, letting him interpret the sound as she knew he would. “Oh, yeah,” she breathed. “Thank you, Sir.”
“You’re welcome, sub girl.”
“Come on. I don’t want to go alone. It’s a really cool new private dungeon in Newton and the party starts at nine. You know I don’t like to drive at night.”
“Newton? I didn’t know they went in for things like that in the suburbs.”
“Hey, Boston doesn’t have a monopoly on BDSM, just because you never like to leave the city,” Lauren retorted, though she was grinning. “It’ll be fun. You could invite that guy you met at that munch thing, what was his name? He was a real hunk. Reminded me of Justin Timberlake. Total masturbatory material.” Without giving Allie a chance to reply, Lauren continued in her rapid patter, “It’s half price cover for single women, and I heard this dungeon has super high tech, state-of-the-art equipment. Yeah, it’s kind of a haul, but my car gets great gas mileage. I’ll even pay your cover if you’re short on funds. Please? Please say yes. I don’t want to go alone.” Lauren leaned forward eagerly, her expression comically beseeching.
The waitress came by with their salads and glasses of wine. Allie waited until she’d served them and moved away. “That hunk you referred to is named Gene. We’ve been talking all week on Facebook. He does have experience in the scene and as far as I could tell wasn’t secretly married or gay or anything. We actually hooked up last night.”
Allie laughed, at once exasperated and amused by her best friend. She finished chewing a mouthful of salad, took a sip of her wine and then replied. “I didn’t tell you yet because you haven’t stopped talking since we sat down. He came to my place. He was good, as far as it went.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning he was very good, technically speaking, with the ropes and the flogger, but it was pretty clear for him it was all just foreplay. Like he had a check list of things to do to me so that he could fuck me at the end.” Allie held up her hand, using an invisible pen to make checkmarks in the air. “Tie her up? Check. Apply the nipple clamps? Check. Say sexy, dominant things that will get her wet? Check. Smack her ass a bit? Check. Bring out the big scary flogger? Check.”
Lauren laughed out loud, and Allie, in spite of herself, joined in.
“I’m sorry. I’m being really mean. The guy was perfectly nice. There just wasn’t that connection, you know? That spark.”
Lauren nodded supportively, reminding Allie why she was her best friend.
Allie took another long swallow of her wine and continued, “He was into me, but I kind of got the feeling he was into the idea of me, more than me, if you know what I mean? He was The Dom and I was The Sub and we were Doing a Scene. I was an extension of him, of his ego, of Master Gene, Dom extraordinaire.” Allie lowered her voice as she said Master Gene, drawing quotations around the words with her fingers.
Lauren giggled and then sighed. “Sounds depressingly familiar.”
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