Epilogue
Daddy’salways beautiful to me.
He’s all long lines: jaw and throat, the straight set of his shoulders, the curving planes of his chest and abs, the sweep of thigh and calf, his ridiculously big feet.
His toes curl as I watch him.
He stretches and slides an arm behind his head, his skin golden against the white pillows despite it being deep mid-winter.
“I can feel your eyes on me, little girl,” he says. His low, gruff tone makes my tummy curl tighter than his toes.
He may be able to feel my eyes on him but he can’t see me. In contrast to all his long, rugged lines, a frilly, hot pink mask covers his eyes. Rhinestones spell out “baby doll” across the mask.
Daddy absolutely refused to spend the night before our wedding apart. Yes, he agreed when I argued, it’s traditional. But life’s too short not to spend every night in each other’s arms.
I couldn’t really argue with that. But I did insist that he didn’t see the bride the day of our wedding until I walk down the aisle.
Thus, my blindfold.
“I really like you in pink, Daddy,” I say, as I tease my fingertip up and down his instep and watch his toes curl again. “Queen Twitch says it’s your color.”
“Batman wears black,” Daddy responds.
“Batman Daddy could wear pink,” I suggest.
He grumbles but he’s smiling. I think he’ll wear pink more often for me.
“Just because you got me to wear this blindfold, don’t think you’re in charge, little girl. Stop trying to tickle me. Get up here and sit on my face.”
I giggle wildly. Although I enjoyed blindfolding him while he was still asleep, I don’t ever want to be in charge. Not with my Daddy. I may be a dragon but I’m a baby dragon.
I feel like a queen dragon when I climb up the bed to straddle my Daddy’s shoulders. I grip the padded headboard and lower myself slowly. Daddy’s hot hands land on my thighs and slide up to cradle my bottom. He guides me down onto his waiting mouth. I lean forward, bracing my intricately-hennaed forearms against the headboard.
For a moment, he just breathes on me. The heat, the anticipation, draw a moan out of me. With him blindfolded, this is a rare chance for me to close my eyes, since he usually demands that I look at him during sex.
If it were anyone but my Daddy, I would. I’d close my eyes, shut out our suite at the Excalibur overlooking the turrets of the castle, and focus on whatever fantasy I’m building in my brain.
But Daddy’s my fantasy. And I obey his rules, even when he can’t see that I’m doing it.
I watch his brow furrow as the tip of his tongue traces through my pussy. His forehead relaxes as he pulls me down more snugly over his face, my knees rubbing along the sheets as he urges my legs wider. He licks a long stripe up to my clit and hums against that most sensitive flesh.
I grip the headboard and squeal softly as he overwhelms me in sensation.
I should know better than to think Daddy’s going to be satisfied with one orgasm this morning. He licks and nips and hums and even roots with the tip of his nose until I writhe and pant and shake through two. He ignores my protests that I’m too sensitive and tongue-fucks me until I’m needy and mewling again. Then he topples me off his face and into his lap.
Before I have a chance to do more than sprawl across the rumpled covers, he lifts my hips, lines himself up, and sinks home.
I whimper and reach for his shoulders.
“No, little girl. Hands behind your back. Daddy’s going to fuck you across the bed. You don’t get to hold on. Give yourself to me.”
“Yes, Daddy.” I tuck my hands behind my back, even though lying on them while impaled on Daddy’s wolfy cock and spread across his thighs puts a lot of strain on my shoulders. But Daddy wants me to give myself to him, so I do, relaxing into his hold and letting him push me forward and back across the silky bedding as he thrusts. I watch pleasure light his face, spreading in a ruddy flush down his bristly neck. I’m sure I have beard burn across my inner thighs but I can’t feel it in this moment as all the sensation in my body narrows down to the nerves wrapped around him. Daddy grunts as he thrusts, hot and wolfy, a term I refuse to give up despite the nasty Wolfpack. Daddy was my wolfy Daddy first. They don’t get to ruin anything.
We won’t let them.
Daddy doesn’t let me fall off the bed but he does push me to the edge, until my head’s hanging back and spinning wildly. He leans over me, mouthing at my breasts, smearing my own wetness across my skin.
“Give me one more, my little wonder, my little wife,” he growls.
“Please, Daddy?”
“Yes, Emmy. Give it to me.”
He latches on to my nipple and gives it a tug with his teeth. The sharp pinch sends me over, my body slip-slip-slipping out of my control as I shake against him. He holds me tightly, right on the edge but never letting me fall, as he pounds his own pleasure into me. Finally, he stills, dropping his face between my breasts as we both gasp for air. I float and spin pleasantly through the afterglow.
“Happy wedding day, baby,” he rumbles.
“Happy wedding day, Daddy,” I say, my voice dreamy. “Can I touch you now?”
He chuckles breathlessly. “Yes, my baby.”
I bring my aching, tingling arms out from behind my back and thread the fingers of one hand through his soft hair. I stroke the sweaty skin of his spine with the fingertips of my other hand. “Thank you for my many Os. Ta very much.”
“It was absolutely my pleasure, little girl.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Mmm? What’s on your mind this morning when I don’t want you thinking about anything but the wonderful day we’re going to have?”
I swallow. I should probably just take my orgasms and be super-happy about them. But I’ve been wondering about something the whole time we’ve been in Vegas.
“Please don’t take this wrong, because I really-really-really love my Os but I expected you to deny me for a few days before our wedding like you did before our collaring ceremony. I’m not complaining! I’m just wondering why you didn’t?”
“Do you have any thoughts on why I might not have?” Daddy asks, sounding extremely pleased with himself. Was he waiting for me to ask?
“Because you know it’s not my favorite thing?”
“Yes. That was half of the reason. Anything else?”
“I’m not sure but maybe because you want this to be different from our collaring ceremony?”
He kisses me, a little sloppily because of the blindfold, on the tip of my nose. “You know I like orgasm denial and I will ask you to agree to it from time to time because it fills my soul. Don’t think you’re getting out of it forever. But I’m well aware it’s not your favorite thing. And, although you’re getting much better about incorporating it as part of your submission, I’m also well aware that it makes you a tiny bit resentful. This is your wedding week, my sweetheart. You’ve been so relaxed leading up to it. You’ve approached the ceremony joyously, exactly as I want you to. The last thing I want you to feel is resentful. So this—” He shifts his hips, pushing a little deeper into me even though he’s no longer fully hard. “Is still an O Zone. Which might be among your cutest terms. Does that make sense?”
I nod vigorously. “Thank you for all my Os. Love you the most today, Daddy.”
“Hmm, I’m not sure that’s possible.” He pulls me back up onto the bed and rolls us onto our sides. I slide my right leg over his hip and hook him to me with my calf. He’s taught me to cherish these moments of peaceful intimacy as much as the wilder ones. Even if these moments are a little messy.
“It is, though,” I say. “Because today I become your forever-little, and everyone knows forever-littles love their Daddies the most.”
“I haven’t heard that,” he says. He traces my face with his fingertips, a little clumsily. The tip of his index finger slips into my nostril as his other fingers trace my lower lip. “I think this might be more Littles’ Army propaganda.”
I grin and suck two of his fingers into my mouth. There have been serious Littles’ Army shenanigans this week. A glitter bombing over the Grand Canyon. A water balloon battle on the Stratosphere’s Big Shot. A day-long hide-and-seek game through the casinos which I won, thank you very much, although I was neck and neck with Matty and Sammi’s team until the end and they might have let the bride win. Still.
We’ve also been extremely well behaved this week. We didn’t want to get kicked out of the Lost City escape room, or the tactile game arcade at Luxor, or during high tea in the Bellagio’s exquisite Conservatory for my bachelorette party. Being on our best behavior has been a strain, especially for Sammi but it’s been worth it to catch our Doms off-guard when we have executed our best-laid plans.
Actually, hearing Master Javier’s scream when four of us hit him with water balloons as that crazy ride shot him a thousand feet in the air over the Vegas strip was worth it all on its own. That’s a sound that will resonate forever in my best memories. I thought I was one-hundred-percent masochist until that moment but I think I might have discovered my one-percent sadist just then.
“I can feel you grinning, sweetheart,” Daddy says. His fingertip wiggles in my nose.
I nip his fingers when I realize that fingertip is there on purpose. Chuckling, Daddy slides his hand down my throat to rest on my collar.
“I was thinking of Master Javier’s scream on that crazy ride on top of the Stratosphere,” I tell him.
Daddy’s chuckle blooms into a laugh. “That was brilliant, baby doll. I’ve never seen him look so surprised.”
I have. During a scary moment in the escape room, Matty ran to him and jumped up into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. He looked just as surprised as he did on top of the Stratosphere. Then he sank his hand into her wild curls and held her still for a very long, very thorough kiss.
I’m not sure what’s going on there but Faolan and Javier are best friends and have been forever. Matty mentioned they’ve shared submissives before. Matty hasn’t let me in on her plans, so I don’t know if Matty’s pushing for it, or if this is something she and Faolan cooked up together but I think Matty’s angling for two daddies.
I just hope she doesn’t fall victim to Master Javier’s “one year and done” rule, which is widely rumored at the club.
“What time is it, little girl?” Daddy asks. “I hate not being able to see anything.”
“Frustrating, isn’t it?” I ask him with more than a little glee, since he blindfolds me all the time. “It’s five minutes to seven.”
Daddy grunts and slips out of me, rolling onto his back. “I know it’s a little earlier than planned but I’m ready to get up and start the day. It’s a big day.”
“Is it?” I ask innocently.
He pinches my hip. “You know it is.”
“Hmm, because we’re meeting some friends at noon?”
Daddy rolls over and squashes me into the mattress. “Because today I’m making you my wife.” He kisses me and tickles me at the same time until I squeal.
When he’s finished torturing my ribs, he rolls off me and fumbles his way to the bathroom with his arms outstretched. I don’t offer to guide him because Tickling Daddies are an evil which must be deterred. He closes the door behind him and the shower goes on.
I roll over, pulling the bedding around me until I’m a burrito baby. I wriggle my arms out, rest my chin on my folded arms, and look out at the turrets of Excalibur’s castle. In rooms all around the hotel, our friends will be getting ready. I’ve helped Laurel, Cynnie, Vashi, Aggie, Sammi, and Yummy with their outfits, because they’re my bridal party. And I know what Master Niall is wearing, even if he’s crazy. But everyone else has been very secretive about what they’re wearing to the wedding.
To be fair, that might be because of me. I originally wanted a Teddy Bear’s Picnic wedding, similar to my collaring ceremony, only probably with less bunnies since a fluffle is hard to find here in Vegas. That’s what I put on the wedding invitations. But after becoming a fierce, white, baby dragon and finding my flight, I changed my mind. When guests RSVPed, I emailed them to let them know they were free to dress any way they wanted. We’re getting married by Elvis, so I expect some wild outfits.
But everyone’s been “keeping mum” about what they’re wearing, to use a Daddyism. Even Daddy’s been super-secretive, squirreling away in his office on video-calls with Niall. Cynnie, who usually can’t keep a secret for more than a millisecond, suddenly became Fort Knox after going on two shopping trips with Daddy. I’d be put-out but she really is the Queen Bee of thrifting, so whatever she helps him put together will be awesome.
On that thought, I smile at the view and worm my way out of my burrito.
I put on one of the fluffy hotel robes and amble into the other room of the suite. I picked the Excalibur because, castle but also because it’s one of the older hotels on the strip and so the rooms aren’t as expensive for our guests. That also meant Daddy said it wouldn’t be too extravagant for us to upgrade to a suite.
Livvy’s crib and sensory mat were in the second room of the suite until yesterday. Mac and Bren demanded “Livvy-time” and whisked her away for the night, which was really nice of them, since it let Daddy bang me over practically every surface in both rooms last night. He’s so wolfy.
Bren’s been trying to convince me to leave Livvy with them and go on a honeymoon, just me and Daddy. But I don’t want to. I’ve loved having her with us this week. Besides, Daddy’s talking about finishing the Mexican cruise that was so horribly interrupted by the evil massage man. Niall, Shaan, and Vashi said they’d join us. There’s a lovely sense of closure to that, so I’m holding out for a belated honeymoon in Mexico at the end of February when New York is dreary and I’m ready for some sun.
Besides, I’d like to eat more of that lobster ceviche. I’ll think of Miranda with every bite. And not gloat. Because that wouldn’t be a bigger person thing to do.
But fierce, white, baby dragons need a tiny bit of a gloat now and then when they’ve won and protected their Daddy-dragon and baby-dragon from the Mir-witch. Dragons can be gloaty.
I pick up a couple of Livvy’s sensory toys and a slightly sticky Little Larry. She can’t possibly be teething yet but you wouldn’t know it from how well-gummed all her toys are. I tuck the sensory toys away in the toy bag and leave the Little Larry to wash when Daddy’s out of the bathroom.
As I’m hydrating, and logging it into Daddy’s app with only a small eye-roll, there’s a knock on the door.
I’m not expecting anyone yet. My bridesmaids are coming at nine for hair and makeup. If there was a problem with Livvy, Bren would have texted.
I open the door and find five mostly naked men.
“Good morning,” I say warily. I’m not opposed to mostly naked men at the door but I’m confident this was not on Daddy’s schedule for today. They’re also looking extremely furtive.
“Is Lo up?” Max asks in a whisper.
“He’s in the shower. What are you up to?”
“Stealth mission,” Daddy Warrin says, tightening his towel around his waist.
“Really. Would Daddy approve of this stealth mission?”
Master Niall, who is also wearing a towel, although his is around his neck, chuckles. “Nah.” He waves a hotel key card. “But we got special access to the pool.”
The outdoor pool is closed for the winter, although we’ve been swimming at Mandalay Bay, which was really nice. Although it’s January, the temperature got up to seventy the second day we were here and the swim was refreshing. It’s supposed to be cooler today, though, and since the sun’s only just come up, the pool won’t be refreshing. It will be like an ice bath.
“Are you planning on dumping Daddy in?” I ask.
“Something like that,” Max admits.
“We’re gettin’ in with ‘im,” Niall protests.
I step back from the door and let them in. It’s their funeral.
They Daddy-nap him out of the bathroom. There’s a scuffle and a little yelling and, when they emerge, Daddy Jack has a very red ring around his eye. They’ve got Daddy in black boxers, so at least they won’t get kicked out of the hotel. Daddy’s blindfolded, ball-gagged, handcuffed, and being led by Jiro and Max.
“Don’t worry, Emmy. We’ll return him after we’ve had a little fun with him,” Max says to me.
I’m not worried. I know these men well enough to know they wouldn’t do anything to spoil my day, especially not after the lost collar escapade. They may not like what Daddy does to them in retaliation, though.
I grin at Max. “I’ll consider this a hall pass for any Littles’ Army shenanigans.” I raise my phone and snap a picture of them before sending it to the littles’ chat.
Max grimaces. “Traitor.”
“I’m extremely loyal,” I protest. “Just not to your cause.”
Chuckling, Max leads Daddy and his band of Merry Men out of our suite.
Daddy returns an hour later, blindfolded, and being led by Niall. No ball-gag; no handcuffs. Niall’s wet. Daddy isn’t. I don’t see a lot of bruises but I suspect that some of the five who walked out of here with Daddy have them.
I’ve checked in with Bren—who says everything is fine and Livvy’s on schedule—and ordered room service while Daddy’s been roughhousing with his groomsmen. The décor at Excalibur might be a little dated but there’s nothing fusty about the food. I’m happily munching on fruit salad as I let Daddy and Niall back in.
“Mmm.” Daddy immediately sweeps me up into his arms. “I smell watermelon.”
I touch the other half of the piece I was eating to his lips. He sucks it into his mouth and chews contentedly.
“Did you throw them all into the pool?” I ask.
“Aye, he did,” Niall grumbles, throwing himself into one of the chairs in the small dining corner and helping himself to some of my fruit salad. I give him what Daddy calls my “angry koala” face. Niall chuckles.
“While still handcuffed,” Daddy says after he swallows. “Wankers.”
“It was the best compromise I could come up with,” Niall says around a mouthful of fruit. “You kept vetoing the strippers.”
Daddy shakes his head. “Doms don’t need strippers. You idiots got me drunk two nights ago. That’s enough bachelor-shit for me.” He grins hugely. “I’m ready to be a married man.”
Niall snorts. “Lots to be said for it, t’be fair.
I lead Daddy over to the table, help him sit, and cuddle up in his lap. “I got breakfast sausages, bacon, pancakes, scrambled eggs, and fruit salad. What would you like me to feed you?”
Daddy stretches back in the chair, holding me snugly to his chest. “You’re going to feed me?”
“I am, unless you’d rather I go in the other room so you can take off your blindfold and have breakfast with your second-best man.”
Master Niall growls.
The role of Daddy’s best man has been hotly disputed between Master Niall and Max. Niall claims he’s Daddy’s “brudder from another mudder” while Max says he’s known Daddy longer and has his bank account and credit card numbers. Daddy told them to fight it out, preferably during the joust that’s held every night at the hotel. It’s been great teasing material all week.
“Yeh can have Emmy feed you any day for the rest of your life,” Niall grumbles.
“I know,” Daddy says smugly. “I might make it a new ritual. Blindfolded Breakfasts. But you know what the great man said, ‘Live each day, as if it were your last.’ I want every minute with you, Emmy. Feed me, baby.”
Grinning at Master Niall, I lean forward and spear a bite of eggs and sausage.
“I’d best be off anyway,” Master Niall says, stealing another piece of melon before wiping his mouth and hands. “Gotta get dressed and be at the airstrip by ten. Limos leave here for the drop zone at eleven. Don’t let Max make you late, one-upping shiteheel.”
Daddy laughs before he takes the bite of breakfast and chews. “See you there.”
“You will if yeh look up,” Niall says. “Drop him off across the hall when you’re ready to have this sad sap outta yer hair, Emmy. Shaan’s ready to make him presentable.”
I make a last-ditch effort. “What will Shaan be wearing, Master Niall?”
He makes a zipping motion across his mouth before bounding up out of the chair and smacking a kiss on my cheek. Then he grabs Daddy’s face and smacks a kiss on Daddy’s lips.
Daddy sputters. “Red, red, you wanker.”
Laughing uproariously, Master Niall strolls out of our suite.
I wipe Daddy’s mouth with one of the nice napkins that came with breakfast before I offer him a bite of scrambled eggs and pancakes. After he chews, he says, “Not bad but nowhere as good as yours, sweetheart.”
I wriggle at the praise. “Food here is good, though. So much to choose from.”
We’ve been utterly spoiled for choice in the cuisine-department since coming to Vegas. We’ve had sushi, comfort food at a very upscale diner, Italian, surf and turf, and gorged ourselves at a totally ridiculous buffet that had over five hundred different foods. I’ve never been so stuffed.
Even Master Javier’s had to admit that the food in Las Vegas is very good, although he looked only slightly less agitated than when we water-balloon-bombed him as he said it.
“Have you had a good week, baby?” Daddy asks as I feed him.
“Uh-huh. Have you?”
“It’s been wonderful. More than anything I’d hoped for. I haven’t been to Vegas before except for work. We’ll come back, just you, me, and Livvy, don’t you think?”
I giggle. No, I don’t. “Daddy, if you haven’t figured it out by now, your friends are never going to let us vacation alone. And you don’t want them to. You love having them around.”
Daddy’s hands circle my waist and squeeze. “I’d protest but you’re right. You know me too well, little girl. You got one thing wrong, though. They’re our friends. These people are here for you just as much as me.”
Given how tightly our circle of friends has gathered around us in the past month, with Niall, Shaan, and Vashi finding a house in Queens, Jiro and Laurel taking an insanely luxe co-op in Gramercy Park that’s almost wall-to-wall windows, and Daisy buying a summer house on Fire Island just down the beach from Master Nico’s, I can’t argue with him. I see my friends, little and Big, every day. Even as I lose my last real family to the shadows of dementia, I’ve gained the biggest, most loving family I could imagine.
And with four exceptions, they’re all here in Vegas to celebrate our wedding.
Daddy grumbles as I lead him to Niall’s suite to change into his wedding clothes. He’s had me in his lap for the last half-hour, first bouncing my way to a mutual O even more delicious than the fruit salad, then cuddling in the afterglow. He suggests we just show up in towels at the Little Chapel and spend the rest of the morning fucking until the limos arrive. While his suggestion has a lot of appeal, it would really disappoint my bridesmaids, who have bets going on whether Daddy faints when he sees me in my wedding gown.
I trade Daddy for Vashi and take the clothes bag she’s had with my gown in it, since I know Daddy’s sneaky ways. If it had been hanging in our closet all week, he’d have gotten a look at it somehow.
Hand-in-hand, Vashi and I return to the suite while she tells me about winning a thousand dollars in the casino last night. She was playing poker. Master Niall says she has the best poker face of anyone he’s ever played.
But she can’t beat me at Hearts.
Vashi checks the amazing henna she’s done on my hands and forearms while we wait for the rest of my attendants. I can’t really call them bridesmaids because one of them’s a boy. It’s kind of a silly tradition anyway and I almost did away with it until I heard about the crazy competition going on between Master Niall and Max for the title of Daddy’s best man. Then I decided we needed a full bridal party to defuse their competition before someone got hurt. Probably Max, since Master Niall’s very muscley. Although Max was scheming to get Master Niall locked up for twenty-to-life for a crime he didn’t commit, according to Cynnie.
Men.
Anyway. While we wait, I try to get what Shaan’s wearing to the ceremony out of Vashi but she’s just as tight-lipped as her master. Niall’s right, she does have a good poker face. She barely smiles when I make outrageous suggestions: one half of a Yellow Submarine, Baby Shark, a Minion. She just pats my hands and tells me the henna’s set perfectly.
I finally get my baby back when Bren arrives with the other attendants at nine. Livvy burbles her new sound at me, “ah-goo,” and laughs when I kiss her fingers and toes. Bren and Vashi get to work on my hair, creating a complicated mass of braids to hold up my tiara and veil. Everyone else sits for Daisy as she does their hair and makeup. I offered to bring in a pro but Daisy demanded “the honor” in exchange for being part of the bridal party. I don’t know why she ever thought she wouldn’t be. Maybe she thought I’d only want subbies. But as soon as she RSVPed, I knew what I wanted her to do. I can’t walk down the aisle without my Best Mommy Domme.
Daisy’s just finishing Sammi’s makeup, in extravagant emeralds and marine blues to go with his outfit, when there’s a last knock on the door. Laurel answers and gives True a big hug as she enters with her foster-mother. We’ve had to pull some major strings to get her here, since her case-worker was against her traveling out of state, even for a wedding. But after I asked True to be my flower girl, Maude promised she’d make it happen and she did.
True sits for Daisy, who does more green and blue makeup but adds splashes of pink. I watch this avidly for hints. Bren planned the flower girls’ outfits and won’t tell me what they are.
It’s a little worrisome how good my friends are at keeping secrets.
Daisy does my makeup last, keeping it mostly natural except for pink, white, and gold wings around my eyes. While Daisy puts on her suit, Aggie and Vashi help me into my dress, which is definitely a three-person job with the corset, tutu, train, cape, and veil. The corset, train, and cape are heavy with metal and beading but I’ve practiced in them several times and by the time we’re ready to go, I’m managing them on my own.
Bren, True, and my baby have disappeared when we come out of the bedroom. I stamp my white, platform Mary Jane. “What are they wearing?”
Everyone laughs. Laurel pats me on the shoulder. “There have to be some surprises, even for the bride.”
I roll my eyes. She giggles and takes my hand as we troop downstairs to the limos.
Daddy’s limo has already left and our limo has tinted windows so Daddy won’t see me. The limo driver grins when he sees us in our outfits and seems in really good spirits as we roll toward the drop zone. He plays “I’ve Got The Magic In Me” by B.o.B. and “I Gotta Feeling” by the Black Eyed Peas and we all sing along. Sammi and Daisy harmonize like they’re professional singers.
When we get to the drop zone, a sandy lot near the “Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas” sign, there are three other limos, two SUVs, and a red Cadillac waiting. I try to peer into the other cars but the windows are all tinted like ours. I know one is Daddy’s and the groomsmen’s. Bren, True, and Livvy might be in the third limo but who is in the other one?
When I ask, my attendants trade secretive smiles but no one answers me.
“I hate you all,” I huff.
Cynnie kisses me on the cheek. “But we lurve you, Emmy.”
I roll my eyes at her.
The driver opens the moon roof and I forget all about my pique as a silver plane circles in the bright blue sky overhead. One after another, eleven bodies dressed in brilliant white spill out of the plane. Even at the distance, I can see they all have slick, black quiffs, except one.
I squeal and point at Irish Elvis. Vashi squeals with me.
The Elvi circle in the air and join hands. They drop together in a huge circle for several terrifying minutes, although they look serene. Finally, they separate. Their chutes pull them higher with a jerk. We clap and whistle as they float down. When they land and remove their chutes, they surround my limo.
One of them blows a note on a pitch pipe, and then all of them break into “The Wonder of You.” They have lovely voices. Not as good as The King but that’s an impossible standard to measure up to. I can pick out Master Niall’s voice among them: a deep baritone. His accent makes me grin.
Tears threaten when I hear them change the lyrics to “that’s the wonder, the wonder of little you.”
Daisy leans across the footwell and dabs at the corners of my eyes. “We’re going to put the waterproof claims of the mascara and liner to the test today, aren’t we?”
I nod helplessly. Daddy got them to change the lyrics for me. I blink through a crystal veil.
After an extra chorus, the Elvi blow kisses at me before they load up in the Cadillac and the SUVs. In a mismatched cavalcade, we roll out to the chapel. The driver puts on “Can’t Help Falling In Love” and I sing with my attendants, smiling through my tears.
We’re the last car to pull up at the chapel, which I sense is by design. The Elvi are waiting to escort us in. They’re witnesses—not that we don’t already have dozens of witnesses—but it was part of Master Niall’s deal with them. They surround my limo, preventing me from seeing what’s going on in the parking lot, while they sing “Blue Hawaii” and “Can’t Help Falling In Love.” By the time they open the limo door and help me out, the parking lot’s full of cars but empty of people.
I glare at Cynnie and Vashi, who just giggle.
The Elvi clearly deal with a lot of brides. They help me get my train straight and one of them carries it for me so it doesn’t snag on the lot’s asphalt. Master Niall beams at me, his smile brighter than the rhinestones on his white outfit, as he holds his arm out for Vashi. In a double-phalanx like they’re guarding the President, the Elvi escort me inside and into a small room with round tables and chairs.
It”s hard to sit in my tutu without showing the whole world the color of my panties (pale blue, although not borrowed) but I have to because my knees are knocking together so hard. It’s not that I’m scared. How could I be scared of marrying my forever-Daddy? It’s just all the emotion of the moment. I don’t think I’ve been this crazy emotional since before my first period. There’s nothing to be scared of but I’m shaking all over. I want this. I’ve thought about it for months. I’ve planned it down to the small details. Is it that I don’t want it to be over too soon? Is that why my hands are shaking so hard that I have to set the small bouquet of white and gold paper flowers I crafted with the Littles’ Army on the table to avoid dropping it?
Vashi kneels next to me, using one hand to tuck the skirt of her gorgeous pink and red sari under her legs and the other to flip back the flare of her cape so it’s not caught under her butt. She takes my hands in hers.
“It’s okay to be nervous,” she says, squeezing my fingers. “I was most nervous on my wedding day.”
“I don’t have anything to be nervous about,” I wail. “I’m just so emotional.”
My attendants cluster around me, patting me and saying “aww.” Several of them are teary, too.
The officiant, a very portly Elvis, comes in to speak to me and get me to sign something. I have no idea what I say to him but it seems to be the right thing because he bustles away smiling.
“Is Daddy definitely here?” I ask Vashi, even though I know it’s a ridiculous question.
“Do you want Master to check?” she responds, humoring me.
I nod. “It’s stupid.”
Niall sweeps down to kiss me on the cheek, his bright red quiff quivering. “Nothing’s stupid on your wedding day. Shaan and I were old hands at the wedding thing by the time we married Vashi and I still sent our best man to check on her about a hundred times.”
I laugh tearily.
“Did he really?” I ask when he leaves.
Vashi nods. “Men are so silly. Where was I going to go? Shaan had my plane ticket.”
Everyone laughs.
Master Niall returns after less than a minute. “There’s a bloke down the hall who resembles your daddy, except he’s a wee bit green around the gills. Think he might be waiting for you. Ready for your surprise?”
I nod.
Niall opens the door. Brenna and True walk in. Bren has a white wicker basket over her arm. True’s carrying Livvy. All three of them are dressed in long gowns, flesh-toned at the top with beaded sea-shells cupped over their breasts. Their skirts are layers of blue and green. Livvy kicks her feet in a froth of ocean gauze.
Mermaids. They’re mermaids.
The tears run. I can’t help it.
Bren smiles at me as her own tears start.
I rush to her. “You can’t cry. You’re a mermaid. Mermaid tears are precious.”
She hugs me, careful of my scaled cape. “You’re precious. Get out there. Logan’s going to faint before he even sees you and I can’t let Sir win a hundred dollars.”
“I’m ready,” I tell her, even though I’m not. I have no idea if I can make it down the aisle. Maybe it’s good we have a lot of attendants. They can carry me.
Bren turns, showing the jewel-toned mermaid and baby among the tattoos on her upper back, and walks out into the corridor, beckoning True after her. Master Mac steps in around her, giving her a quick kiss and a smack on the ass as they pass each other. He’s wearing a morning suit in dove gray, his tie and cummerbund rippling with blue and green to match the mermaids. He takes off his top hat and bows to me. “Come on, sweetheart.”
I nod since I can’t manage one word.
We line up. Sammi first, then Aggie, then Yummy, then Laurel, then Cynnie and Vashi, arm-in-arm since their Doms are co-best-men.
Daisy helps arrange my veil over my face, careful not to snag it on my tiara. I know a veil is super-traditional and patriarchal but I didn’t wear a veil when I married Ash and I want this wedding to be as unlike that one as possible.
Daisy offers me her arm. She’s wearing a suit similar to Mac’s, only hers has a leather mini-skirt that shows off her long legs, and a pink tie and cummerbund. Her outrageously high, velvet platforms are the same hot pink. I love her movie-star sense of style.
On my other side, Mac offers me his arm. Daisy scoops my bouquet off the table and passes it to me. I realize she’s wrapped a white linen hankie around the bottom of the bouquet.
I sniffle at her gratefully.
Between my Best Mommy Domme and the Mac Granddaddy, I walk out into the hallway. Bren and True stand on either side of the closed door to the chapel itself. I can hear the faint strains of “Ode to Joy.” Daddy’s choice. Because of all the joy I bring to his life, he said.
I blink through fresh tears.
With a wink at me, Bren opens the door. True and Livvy walk through first, Livvy burbling and kicking. Bren follows them, handing out tiny bouquets of white paper roses right and left into the audience as she goes. My eyes follow her motion. At first, I think the Elvi are taking up the back rows. Then my eyes catch on an imperiously gray-quiffed Elvis. Mistress Maude grins at me.
Elvi. A whole sea of Elvi in brilliant white jumpsuits with flashing rhinestones. Short, tall, Mistress Dana whip-slim, Master Harold barrel-chested in his open white shirt. Queen Twitch’s crown matches the jumpsuit’s rhinestones. Elvi everywhere. They’ve all come as Elvis.
I begin giggling.
Sammi follows Brenna, holding his arms out so his aquamarine cape, attached at his wrists, flares open behind him.
Spreading into wings.
My flight proceeds down the aisle, flaring their wings: blue-green, purple, orange, emerald, yellow, and red.
I try to be a fierce, white, baby dragon as Daisy and Mac propel me forward but really I’m a sobbing baby dragon. Everyone stands as I walk down the aisle, which I’m not prepared for. A lot of them wave and smile at me. I try to smile back even as I blubber.
As Cynnie and Vashi move to the left at the end of the aisle, I finally see the people waiting for me. A bald Elvis. A red-haired Elvis. A nerd Elvis wearing a shirt that says, “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” over the IP address for a well-known porn site. An Elvis wearing a black, red, and gold jumpsuit instead of the white jumpsuits that fill the audience. An Elvis that’s powder-blue head to toe. A dreadlocked Elvis. A GI Elvis at the end.
I smile tearily at all of them.
GI Elvis salutes and the Elvi part neatly.
My Dark Knight steps forward through the Elvi gap.
My heart thumps so hard in my chest it bruises my ribs.
Daddy’s wearing black leather. I’ve seen him in black leather before, of course but this is seriously hot black leather: boots, leather pants that show off his sculpted thighs, a waistcoat that buttons up to his chin. He’s not wearing a shirt under the waistcoat and his muscled, bare arms show under the edges of a cape with a high collar that frames his face. The leather of the cape and waistcoat are tooled into scales. In one hand he carries a golden leash.
Dragon-Tamer Daddy.
Daisy and Mac stop in front of him. Mac takes my bouquet as Daisy folds my veil back. They pat me before they move away to join the other attendants.
Daddy’s dark eyes slide down me, taking in my tiara with its tiny, pink-jeweled horns, my winged cape covered in golden-edged scales and decorated with iridescent white sequins, the matching bustier and train, the white tutu edged with pink ribbon that falls mid-thigh, revealing my old pink and white stripey thigh-highs held up with a borrowed garter.
With Daddy’s hot, wolfy gaze on me, my knees give out. I drop onto them.
Daddy takes a step forward and clicks the hook of the leash through my collar. “Mine.”
“Yours, Daddy,” I whisper.
He holds out his hand. I take it and try to stand but I’m shaking all over. He draws me into his arms. “Hug me, little girl. Hug your Daddy and know that everything’s okay. I love you so much. Nothing will make me prouder than making you my little wife.”
I swallow the huge lump of tears in my throat. “I love you, too, and I want to be your wife, I’m just super-emotional.”
He kisses my forehead gently. “Me, too, sweetheart. My knees are knocking together so hard they’re going to cause an earthquake.”
I giggle. “Not as hard as mine.”
“Twice as hard as yours. C’mon, baby. I got a ring with your name on it. You want it?”
I have one for him, too. “So much, Daddy.”
“I think Bald Elvis wants a word.”
Giggling, I let him lead me two steps forward. He keeps hold of my hand. His palm is a little sweaty.
I turn, expecting to see the portly officiant.
Master Javier smiles at me.
“Bald Elvis?” I ask, grinning.
He winks at me. “Welcome, friends. We’re gathered here today to celebrate the union of this Daddy with his little ...”
I hiccup and the tears start again.
“Logan and Emily, have you come here to give yourselves freely in marriage?” Master Javier asks.
“I do,” I whisper.
There are soft chuckles around me.
Daddy squeezes my hand. “We have,” he says.
“Repeat after me, Daddy Logan. I, James Logan, take you, Emily Martin, to be my lawfully wedded wife. To command and to hold, to love and to cherish, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, from this day forward. You are mine. You live in my heart and soul forever.”
Daddy repeats each word, his voice breaking when he says “mine.”
“Repeat after me, Emmy,” Master Javier says. “I, Emily Martin, take you, James Logan, to be my lawfully wedded husband. To obey and to hold, to love and to cherish, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, from this day forward. I am yours. You live in my heart and soul forever.”
I whisper each word raggedly.
“Please exchange rings as a symbol of your infinite and unending love, faith, and loyalty to each other.”
Bren pulls a red velvet box out of her basket. Mac fishes its mate out of his jacket pocket. I asked for simple rings to go with the slight ostentation of my pink diamond engagement ring.
Daddy’s idea of simple isn’t really the same as mine.
They’re gold, his thicker than mine. A gemstone band runs through the middle of each ring. Daddy’s band is dark opal, flashing with deep blues and greens. My band is pink opal. I didn’t even know pink opal was a thing until Daddy showed it to me on the internet before we commissioned the rings. When we picked up the rings and I saw how mine looked against my diamond, I cried for an hour.
Pretty sure I’m going to cry for longer today. I can’t stop the tears. They drip off my chin. Daddy gently wipes them away, then licks my body’s salt off his fingers. “Happy tears?” he whispers.
“The happiest,” I promise him.
“Do I get a ring?” he asks.
I nod but I can’t remember a word of the ceremony we wrote. “Help me, please?”
“Of course, sweetheart. ‘Daddy, with this ring, I thee wed’.”
Once he starts me off, I remember the rest. I take his ring from Brenna and say, “Daddy, with this ring, I thee wed. I offer my heart and soul to you, for you to keep safe alongside your heart and soul, because they are joined forever. Wherever you go, please take me with you. Wherever I go, I’ll know you’re with me. As long as we both shall live.”
I slide the band onto his offered finger and stare at it there. It doesn’t feel real. Or maybe it’s too real. Surreal. Good surreal but surreal.
“You with me, baby?” Daddy whispers.
I nod, not wanting to ruin the moment.
Daddy picks up my ring out of the box Mac is holding. He takes my left hand and gently slides off my engagement ring.
“Emmy, my baby doll, with this ring, I thee wed. I accept responsibility for your heart and soul. I will do everything in my power to keep them safe, alongside my heart and soul, because they are joined forever. Wherever I go, you are with me. Wherever you go, I am with you. As long as we both shall live.”
He slides my wedding band and engagement ring back onto my finger.
Everything snaps into place. We’re married. I’m Daddy’s little wife and Daddy’s ... Daddy’s my Daddy.
That thought settles me more than my mantra ever did. Daddy’s my Daddy. He always has been. He always will be. I beam up at him.
He smiles back at me. “There you are, wife.”
“Hi, Daddy. Is it time for the kiss yet?”
There are chuckles all around us.
“I think Bald Elvis has to say something first,” Daddy responds.
Master Javier clears his throat. “By the power vested in me by the State of Nevada, I am delighted to pronounce you husband and wife. Please kiss the bride before I do.”
Laughing, Daddy sweeps me up into his arms. I wind my arms around his neck as he lifts me off my feet. He rubs noses with me as we look into each other’s eyes. “First kiss of the rest of our lives together, baby.”
“Lay it on me, Daddy.”
His laughter buzzes against my teeth as he seals our mouths together. He runs his tongue along the ridge of my teeth before lapping against my tongue. Breaking the kiss, he smiles into my eyes again before taking another, even deeper kiss.
Daddy lowers me onto my heels. He takes my left hand, twines our fingers together, raises our linked hands, and presses a kiss to my knuckle just above our rings. Then he lifts our joined hands into the air.
Everyone cheers and from the back of the room, the skydiving Elvi launch into “All Shook Up.”
With the Elvi singing our recessional, Daddy leads me back down the aisle. I wave like a crazy lady at everyone, much too happy to wave like a queen.
Daddy’s little wife.
Our reception’s at A Golden Affair. I hadn’t heard of it until I realized we were going to have an absurd number of guests at our “elopement” in Vegas and began researching venues. As soon as I saw the pictures: all pale wood, high ceilings, white drapes, and soft lighting, with huge windows looking out in the sere, folded landscape of Red Rocks National Park, I knew it was what we wanted. There’s a dance floor, a dining area separated by a low wall, the buffet screening the kitchen, and two bars at either end of the open-plan building.
Daddy commandeered arranging the music, which means we’ll be dancing to Eighties tunes. Master Javier claimed the catering was his wedding gift to us. Knowing what Master Javier’s like when he’s thwarted, I gave way and just asked for some nice herbal teas to be available along with everything else. Of course, that was before Master Javier somehow became qualified as an officiant in Nevada and took over the ceremony. I should have known he was up to something when I saw him lurking in the Blunts’ library all autumn. He pretended it was his new favorite place for scenes and made Cappa serve as his footrest for hours on end while he read. I should have known, though. Master Javier really isn’t as devious as he thinks he is.
My only sadness is that Cappa’s not here to see the outcome of all those back-breaking hours.
The venue’s as serene and beautiful as I imagined. They’ve strung fairy lights along the edges of the tables and along the exposed beams in the ceiling. Runners of the palest pink, rich with gold embroidery, drape the ten tables: Niall, Shaan, and Vashi’s contribution. White pillar candles flicker on each table, adding to the warm, sunset glow off the desert beyond the huge windows. The centerpieces are white and gold paper flower bouquets, grouped around a Little Larry.
We’ve all been back to the Excalibur to change. True’s stayed at the hotel with Livvy, who she’s babysitting tonight, under the supervision of her foster-mother. Although the venue is vanilla, Master Javier reassured me he’d hired kink-friendly servers and everyone could wear what they liked. The skydiving Elvi have been intrigued enough to stick around for the reception. It’s a free meal and an open bar which probably does a lot to assuage any prudery; more than that, I get the sense that those who cater to tourists in Vegas have pretty much seen it all. The Elvi’s white jumpsuits mix with Yummy’s dragon onesie, Georgie’s fursuit, Cynnie’s adorable round bee outfit, and leather in every color. They don’t seem shocked. Everyone mingles, talking and laughing together.
I expect fussy French food; it’s Master Javier after all. But he surprises me by serving a feast to delight any little. Lobster Mac and cheese balls. Tiny hamburger sliders with a quinoa alternative that has me clapping my hands when I see them. Pizza rolls. Regular and sweet potato fries arranged in boxes like crayons. Triangular pastry puffs that conceal quiche Lorraine, curried chicken, or egg and cress within their fluffy folds. The caterer has included some western dishes like marinated cactus salad and burnt ends. There’s a healthy cornucopia of fruits and vegetables. But there’s also folded ice cream and sorbet in several flavors, drizzled in fruit coulis or chocolate. At the very end of the buffet, there’s a giant, ice-sculpture clamshell full of shucked oysters so fresh they still smell like the sea. Oysters in the desert. That’s so Master Javier.
I eat a little of everything, even an oyster.
I’m honestly too stuffed to consider another bite by the time they bring out the wedding “cake.” Five different people offered to make our wedding cake but I turned them all down. I really didn’t want a wedding cake. The ones I’ve had have always been dry and nothing could top the Beauty and the Beast cake Sammi and Jack made for our collaring ceremony anyway.
Then Martyn, from the inn where we had our collaring ceremony, RSVPed. When he offered, I changed my mind about the cake. I begged him not to be as extravagant as he was for my Alice in Wonderland tea party because I wanted him and his little, Piper, to have fun while they were here. He just laughed.
The caterers bring out a round, three-tiered stand. On each level, there are cupcakes. Big cupcakes. Mini cupcakes. Cupcakes frosted with a rainbow of colors. Cupcakes topped with macarons. Cupcakes piled with fluffy meringue. Cupcakes dipped in chocolate ganache.
I throw my arms around Martyn and Piper before I find the smallest, lemon meringue cupcake I can and add it to my groaning stomach.
Daddy’s still licking ganache off his lips when he leads me out for our first dance. He’s still in his Dragon-Taming Daddy leathers, although he’s shed the cloak and changed his boots for black shoes he can dance in. His bare arms and shoulders look huge against the black leather. Yum-yum, Daddy.
He pulls me to him, planting one of his wolfy paws on my bottom, squeezing through the silky fabric of my skirt. When Cynnie and I were planning outfits, I told her she had free rein over my dress for the reception. The only thing I wanted was to be able to wear thigh-highs because they drive Daddy so crazy.
Cynnie delivered.
The two-piece outfit is white, silk, and makes me feel even more delicious than Martyn’s cupcakes. The top wraps my shoulders and crosses over my breasts, tying in a huge bow in the small of my back, with ribbons trailing to my knees. There’s a tiny strip of skin exposed across my belly, just enough to give Daddy a flash of my brand. The skirt falls to mid-thigh in the front and to my knees in the back, for best visibility of my sheer white thigh-highs, printed with little pink bows. The skirt has the softest poof; the overlay of white gauze embroidered with butterflies and tiny pink pearls along the hem swirls around me as Daddy spins us to Berlin’s “Take My Breath Away.” I’ve replaced my dragon tiara with fluffy white cat ears. Cynnie added a layer of veil that brushes my shoulders, giving me the best shivers.
Is it possible to feel adorable and elegant at the same time? Because I do.
I know what Daddy and I must look like, him looming over me all in black, me pressed up against him, small and white. It’s a true image because Daddy always has been and always will be my ruthless protector.
But it’s also an illusion. Because a little takes care of her Daddy, too. In finding my forever-Daddy, the Daddy worthy of my love and care, I’ve discovered my inner dragon. She sleeps most of the time, guarding her treasure. But when she rises ...
Hear me roar.
We dance as darkness falls outside the windows to Cyndi Lauper, The Bangles, Lionel Richie, Peter Gabriel, Journey, and Madonna. As the stars glitter over the desert, we dance to Thompson Twins, Spandau Ballet, Bryan Adams, Tears for Fears, and Roberta Flack. All of Daddy’s favorites. We dance until the ache of an overfull stomach is replaced by an ache lower in my belly from being held so close to Daddy’s hard body as we move together.
I could wait. I haven’t talked to everyone. A few people just arrived yesterday and I want to catch up with them, too. Even though we told everyone absolutely no presents, there’s a table of them by the door and we haven’t opened any yet.
But there will be time for those things. If I don’t catch up with people here, I can in New York, because now that Daddy’s made Blunts safe again and so many from our playgroup have joined, we’re there practically every day. And if we don’t open our wedding presents today, someone will bring them to the hotel and we’ll open them tomorrow, probably at the big brunch Maude’s hosting tomorrow at a place called The Hash Hut, which is not a hut at all but does have cool Polynesian theming.
There’s never enough time with my Daddy.
I slide my hands around his neck and tickle the fine hairs there with my fingertips. His groomsmen dragged him off for a Turkish bath and barber the morning after they got him drunk. He was still hungover when he got back but he had a sharp haircut.
“So, Daddy, I’ve been thinking,” I begin.
He looks down at me, his eyes hooded and happy. “What have you been thinking about, my little wife.”
I go up on my toes to whisper in his ear, “Since we’re all married now and everything, maybe we could go back to the hotel and get started on making a brother or sister for Livvy?”
I had my appointment before we left New York. My gynecologist said it might be a month or two before the contraceptive effect of the implant wore off but I’m perfectly happy to keep trying in the meanwhile.
Daddy stops dead in the middle of the dance floor. “What?”
“I had my implant removed before we left New York.” I had to hide the inside of my arm from Daddy for the first few days we were in Vegas until the little incision healed so I didn’t spoil the surprise. “So, we could get started on our ‘sibling for Livvy’ project right away.”
Daddy’s eyes go impossibly hot and dark.
“Breeding kink unlocked,” he growls, before he tosses me over his shoulder and strides out of our reception. “Enjoy yourselves everyone! I have a little wife to impregnate. See you tomorrow.”
The laughter of our friends, high and low, sweet and deviant, follows us out the door.
The End