His Pretty Toy by Shanna Handel
Chapter 21
Trent
There will be no expense spared for this wedding. My bride will have the most glorious wedding there has ever been. We’re inviting everyone. All of her family; Tabby, her old neighbor who still eyes me warily, knowing how our relationship began. Her old friends from college, her colleagues from the coffee shop, Trina, her assistant manager who will also be helping with the table settings, Ashley’s regulars, her new friends from college.
I’ll have all of Nathan’s and my boarding school buddies; my entire college rowing team is coming. All of my staff and their families. I’m flying in the men who’ve managed the roastery in Paris for all these years.
The other two women in my life, Poppy and Gretchen, are my guests of honor. Without them, I’d have been even more lost than I already was before I met my Ashley.
I’ve made sure Poppy got my limitless credit card for dress shopping and I’m having a limo pick her up at her house to bring her to the wedding. I’ve even arranged for the very same limo to also pick up Nick, the handsome single intern I know she has a crush on.
For Gretchen, the electric blue Birkin bag she’s been eyeing will arrive at her house just as she’s walking out the door for the event.
The guest list is up to three hundred already. The wedding will be held on our family estate. It will be a three-day event.
The first night will be a picnic under the stars. Pizza and beer and wine, then popcorn and ice cream as we project a cheesy movie onto a huge outdoor screen that we’ve bought from an old drive-in.
The next day, people can choose to tour the estate’s winery, cruise the lake on the yacht, or hit the city for a day of shopping and spa treatments. My brother insisted I include a golf outing, so that’s what he and I will be doing with our friends we haven’t seen in years. He’s got to get to know the fools all over again.
That night, we’ll hold our rehearsal dinner inside. There’s not enough room to seat everyone, so we’re going to do heavy appetizers and finger foods, served by waiters and waitresses on silver trays.
We’ll do a quick run-down of the ceremony, then the chocolatier that rented our warehouse is going to bring a tasting to us. We’ll dine on truffles and chocolates in the garden, pairing each with a different wine.
I think Ashley might be just as excited for that event as she is to marry me.
On the wedding night, the guests will be greeted with glasses of bubbly, then led to the walled garden for cheese and crackers while a string quartet plays. The cheese is from a local goat farm, the goats are fed a diet of herbs to enrich the flavor of the cheese. It’s delicious.
From there their glasses will be topped off and they’ll be escorted to my favorite spot on our land, a little wooden chapel tucked away in the trees where private masses were held for the family back in the 1800s. We’ll have a short ceremony, then off to the mansion’s courtyard for dining alfresco.
Tables will line the stone patio, their tops set with china and silver, heavy with food and wine. After we eat, the guests can enjoy the outdoor bar while the courtyard is cleared and transformed to a dance floor.
The five-tier cake will, of course, be chocolate with chocolate frosting. There will even be a chocolate fountain, pieces of cut fruit ready to be pierced with toothpicks and held under waterfalls of rich melted chocolate. Then my driver will take my wife and me to the airport where we’ll fly on my jet, off to our honeymoon in Paris.
I’ll take her to every single art museum in France, all the while never telling her how much art bores me. I only like her art. It’ll be enough just to see her eyes light up as she takes in each painting that she’s only seen in pictures.
Then every night, I swear, I’ll make each one as perfect as that one night we had together. We’ll dine, we’ll dance, and this time, I’ll never let her leave my arms. Not for one moment.
As the wedding grows closer, my bride becomes even sweeter than before. No bridezilla for me. Not that I wouldn’t know how to handle one. I’d just turn her over my knee and give her a little attitude adjustment.
But there’s no need.
She’s so grateful for everything I do for her and so happy that I’m willing to help her family. I’ve never been good at communicating my emotions. I don’t tell her what I really feel; I think of her family as my own.
I’m really not sure who saved who.
I’m working on one final surprise for the big night. Ashley so loves to dance and when we danced that night in the club in Paris, I felt seriously lacking next to her. I’ve hired a private dance tutor to get me where I need to be for our wedding night.
I’ve told Ashley not to come near the door to the parlor on Wednesdays between five and six p.m. It’s Wednesday, five oh five and I’m waiting on the instructor who’s late. Living with Ashley has given me a new level of patience for waiting.
I get a text—they’ve canceled on me. I slip my phone in my pocket. No matter, I’ll take my fiancée out for dinner instead. I think she’s upstairs, working on the sketches of the estate she’s going to screen print onto napkins for a gift for the guests.
When I go to open the big oak doors of the parlor, I get a surprise. My fiancée comes tumbling into me. “Ooops!”
I catch her in my arms. “Somebody snooping?”
“No! Not me. Just… ah, just getting a glass of water.” She smiles, holding up the empty plastic cup in her hand.
I take it from her. “This cup wouldn’t be being used to eavesdrop against this thick wooden door, would it?”
“Ah… no?” She gives me a sheepish look.
“I thought we’ve agreed—you’re a terrible liar.”
She gives a shrug. “I’m just so curious. What do you do in there?” She stands on tiptoe, peering past me into the empty parlor.
“You want to know what I do in here?”
She nods.
“I spank nosy little girls in here. That’s what I do.”
Her eyes go wide. She turns to run.
I grab her around the waist, pulling her into the parlor. I shut the door, pressing her back against them. “But first, I kiss them.”
I kiss her, my hand slipping under her dress, my fingers crawling up to the gusset of her panties. She’s damp. I break her kiss, shaking my head. “I only say the word spanking, and you get all wet.”
“What can I say?” She nips at my bottom lip. “I’m your naughty girl.”
“You’re my pretty toy.” I slide my hands under her thighs, pulling her legs up and around my waist. “And I want to play.”
I carry her to the sofa. I bend her over the edge, lifting her skirts and spanking her bottom playfully. “Nosy, nosy girl.” She wiggles her hips for more, giggling.
I give her a few spanks over her panties. I slip my hand between her thighs, rubbing the gusset of her panties. “Even wetter. I want a taste.”
I grab her, lifting her and laying her down on her back on the couch. She smiles up at me as I dive under her skirt, tugging her panties down around her ankles. I part her thighs, kissing her sweet pussy. Her hands find my hair, running through it as I lick and tease her.
“You’re so good at that.” Her knees drop to the sides, her head lolling over her shoulder, her lids growing heavy. “You’re almost too good—oh, my god!”
I slide two fingers inside her, pumping them as I lash her clit with the tip of my tongue. She moans, her body curling around me. I create a steady rhythm with my fingers and my mouth, thrusting then licking and circling her sex. Soon, her hips start to rock and my naughty girl’s fucking my face while I eat her out.
She screams my name, her thighs clamping down around my head. I dig the fingertips of my free hand into her thighs, not letting up as she comes. She tries to push me away, thinking she can’t take more but I know better.
My baby can take everything I want to give her. I kiss and suck and finger until she comes. I carry her limp body up to our bed and I make love to her, kissing her ears, her hair, her cheeks. I tell her that I love her.
Our night finally comes.
I stand beside my brother in our family’s outdoor chapter, my throat already tight even though she’s nowhere in sight. Finally, Ashley appears at the end of the aisle and I lose my breath.
She’s stunning.
Her brown hair is piled up on top of her head, a veil pinned behind it and the gauzy fabric glides down her back. She wears a long ivory gown, the silky fabric clinging to her curves as she moves toward me. Fluttery white feather-like decorations cling to the thin straps of her dress, a dusting of shimmery diamonds dance over her chest.
But it’s the look on her beautiful face that has my heart doing that crazy skip a beat thing again. She fucking loves me. And it’s the best feeling in the world.
I take her hand beneath the stars, I repeat the vows I’ve had memorized for weeks. When they pronounce us man and wife, I take her in my arms and kiss her for so long, whistles rise from the cheers of the crowd.
We dine like a king and queen at the head of a banquet table so long I can’t see the faces of the guests at the other end of the table under the soft glow of the strings of globe lights that hang over our heads.
She looks around in awe, leaning into me and whispering, “My god, Trent. This is all so gorgeous. I can’t believe you did this for me, for us. Thank you.” Her lips press against my cheek, cool against my skin and my heart wells with pride. I want her to have this one perfect night to remember for the rest of our lives.
I’ve seated Gretchen next to Nathan. He makes jokes and she laughs, sipping at her drink. She’s looking years younger in a softer look than she normally wears, a pale green silk dress, her hair falling around her face in curls.
Poppy’s face is bright red as she eats her dinner next to handsome Nick. She wears a black dress dotted with hot pink, matching the thick frames of her glasses. He leans in, saying something to her that makes her blush further, a smile spreading across her face.
I slide my arm around my bride, taking in all the smiling faces of the people who’ve come here to celebrate our love.
Our wedding coordinator guides us to the cake table. Spoons clink against champagne flutes, demanding kisses. I kiss my bride and for the encore, they chant, “Speech! Speech!”
I hold my hand in the air to quiet them, and then I give them what they want. Ashley looks up at me, a smile of adoration on her face as I speak. “Friends, family. Thank you so much for coming tonight, to celebrate with us. You all know me as a man who knows what he wants. It turns out the thing I wanted most in life was Ashley.” I stare down at her. “Thank you, Ashley, for your patience,” the crowd laughs, knowing I’m a difficult man, “and for your love. You’ve made me a better man.”
She leans up on tiptoe to kiss me, tears glistening in her eyes.
We slice the cake, feeding each other delicate bites of chocolate, toasting with champagne afterwards. We mingle with our guests, hugging and sharing stories. Pride wells in my chest as I introduce my wife to those who haven’t met her.
Trina gives the children paper cones filled with cherry blossom flowers to toss in the air, scattering their petals over the stone patio turned dance floor. A live band breaks out into classic pop songs and our guests begin to dance.
I dance slowly with her mother, taking care to hold her weight to ease the pressure on her joints. I dance with her sister, with little Charlotte. She looks lovely in her pink tutu as she twirls on the dance floor.
Now for the moment I’ve waited all night for.
I pull my wife into my arms. “Dance with me.”
Her arms wind around my neck as I lead us across the dance floor. Our bodies move together, captured by the moment, the music. Her face lights up with surprise. “You’re pretty good,” she says. “Have you been practicing?”
“Maybe.” I can’t hold back the silly grin that splashes across my face. “A little bit.”
“For me?” She smiles that gorgeous smile of hers and my world tilts, my heart skipping two beats.
I nod. “For you.”
And I know, without a doubt, I’m in love.
I’m so fucking in love.
The End