“I know we aren’t into the whole Master/slave thing. But I’d like you to wear this necklace as a token of your erotic submission to me, and my symbolic and loving dominance of you. Does that work for you, Sophia? Will you wear this necklace as a symbol of our unique BDSM connection?”
“Oh, yes, Nick. It would be my honor,” Sophia breathed, happiness nearly lifting her out of her seat.
Nick held out his hand for the necklace, and she dropped it into his cupped palm. Getting to his feet, he moved around the table to her.
She lifted her hair and bent forward so he could place the chain around her neck. The pendant rested against her heart, as if it had always been there.
Nick returned to his seat, nodding with satisfaction as he gazed at her. “It’s perfect,” he pronounced. “Now, open the other box.”
He bit his lip, the gesture sweetly vulnerable. She fell in love with him just a little more at that moment, if that was possible.
She opened the hinged lid of the box and drew in her breath. Nestled in the velvet were two rings of beaten gold, clearly antiques.
“Nick,” she breathed. She lifted the smaller of the two rings from the box. It felt heavy and cool in her hands. “These are beautiful rings.” She looked up at him, her heart in her throat.
“I found them in that antique jewelry store I couldn’t get you out of,” he said with a laugh. “I didn’t show you then because I wanted it to be a surprise. But clearly, they were made for us. Look at the inscription,” he urged.
She tilted the ring to see the tiny calligraphic lettering inside: I am my beloved’s, it read, echoing his sweet sentiment that fateful night when he’d come to her apartment. The quote was one from the Song of Songs, and was often used in marriage vows.
“Look at the second ring,” he said.
She lifted the larger ring, clearly sized for a man, and peered at the inscription, which read: My beloved is mine.
“Is this…?” she asked stupidly. “Are you…?”
“Yes,” he laughed. “It is. And I am. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. For now”—he took the smaller ring and reached for her right hand—“please wear this as a token of my love.” He slipped the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly.
“When we decide it’s right for us, then I’ll move that ring to your left hand.”
Touched beyond words, Sophia reached for Nick’s right hand. She slid the larger ring over his knuckle. The gold band suited him in its simple elegance.
“You know what this means, right?” she said, grinning at him. “The second my mother and grandmother get wind of this, they’re going to be planning the wedding of the century. If you ever saw that movie, My Big Fat Greek Wedding, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about.”
Nick laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we’re up to whatever they throw our way. We’ll let them do the whole big traditional thing, and then maybe we can have a private, more BDSM-themed ceremony of our own.”
Sophia nodded eagerly. “That’s a fabulous idea, Nick.” She smiled goofily at him for a moment, and then she remembered.
“I have a surprise for you, too.” Sophia reached into her bag for her phone. “I just got the confirmation.”
She clicked on the screen to get what she wanted and then held it out to him.
It was an email from Desire Island confirming their spot on the waiting list, with an expected reservation date of nine months away. “I thought it would be fun to go back to where it all started,” she said, feeling suddenly almost shy.
“Perfect,” Nick enthused. “I love it.” Then he furrowed his brow and rubbed an imaginary beard. “I wonder if they do wedding ceremonies…”