Gen felt her eyes widen. "Would Lyda..." At Noah's look, she swallowed. Hard.
All she could think of were the possible uses of that equipment, the things she might see. The scenery alone... Her gaze slid over all of the assembled submissives. Noah, Mac, Josh, Brendan, Thomas. Holy God.
"You could pretend that seeing them all naked appalls you." Noah gave her an aggrieved look, though she saw the humor behind it, and his anticipation as well. Sliding her arms around his waist, she stroked the firm landscape of his abdomen through his shirt.
"I'll imagine what Lyda might let me do to you," she whispered.
Cocking his head, he swept his gaze meaningfully over her throat and breasts, making it clear which submissive he was most interested in seeing naked. She flushed. "Or let you do to me," she allowed, clearing her throat.
A more distinct and imperious cleared throat drew their attention. Lyda was giving them a look, brow raised. Gen lifted both hands clear of Noah in an exaggerated "I wasn't doing anything" gesture that had their Mistress's lips quirking.
"There will be time enough for that," she promised.
Everything tightened up in Gen except her weak knees as Lyda spoke clear enough that everyone at the party could hear. It was tantamount to an open declaration of where they might be headed...publicly.
Lyda's gaze shifted to the assembled, who'd taken seats around the patio where they were sharing afternoon cocktails. With Noah and Gen the only ones now standing in her proximity, Gen realized it felt like they'd stepped onto a stage.
"When Marguerite invited me to this event today," Lyda said, "it was because I told her I was seeking the right time and place to do something I've wanted to do for several months now. She suggested this, and I agreed."
Giving Noah and Gen a significant look, she sat down in a patio chair. She pointed to the space directly in front of her. "Come here," she said.
Even knowing Chloe, Marguerite and Tyler were part of the audience, Gen felt no self-consciousness, which said a good deal about how far she'd come in this journey and her trust of Lyda. She remembered those words...if I ask for your submission in public, it's because you can trust me to keep you safe... Now she understood that meant safe physically and emotionally. Safe from humiliation or the wrong kinds of pain.
As such, Gen led herself and Noah to Lyda, taking the lead in them both kneeling before her. Gen was aware of Chloe's intent regard to her immediate left, her friend clasping Brendan's hand as if anticipating something quite wonderful. Butterflies fluttered in Gen's stomach.
Lyda touched Gen's face, caressed Noah's shoulder. "I'm not the nurturing sort. Nor especially sentimental. But once I make a decision, I don't turn back from it, do I?"
They shook their heads. In the corner of her other eye, Gen saw Marcus, his arm stretched behind Thomas. Thomas had leaned forward, but his knee was pressed against Marcus', evidence of that connection between them. Mac stood behind Violet's chair, watching, the large male just as attentive. One more shift of her glance and there was Josh. As always, the artist looked sleepy and somewhat distracted, but right now those gray eyes behind their wire-rimmed glasses were unusually keen. He was sitting on the grass next to the edge of the patio, where Lauren sat in a chair, her legs crossed. He had his hand loosely wrapped around her calf, a possessive gesture that didn't negate the dynamic of Mistress and sub that existed between them. Now that she understood more about those possessive feelings herself, it made sense to her.
She brought her gaze back to Lyda. Behind her stood Tyler and Marguerite. Marguerite sat on a padded bench to Lyda's right, and Tyler stood at her back, his hand resting on her shoulder. Gen noticed how his thumb caressed the base of her throat, the seed pearl choker. Marguerite met her gaze, those pale-blue eyes luminous.
Bringing her full attention back to Lyda, Gen found her Mistress waiting on her. Lyda's expression wasn't impatient or offended. It was as if she wanted Noah and Gen to understand the solemnity of the occasion by absorbing the others' reactions.
"I made a decision, right before you made yours, Noah." Lyda met his gaze. "It's a good thing you went down the right path with Elias, else I would have been wasting my money. And you know how I feel about that."
"Yes Mistress," he ventured. He was obviously as unsure what this was about as Gen, but when Gen's hand crept into his at her side again, he clasped it.
Marguerite drew a small velvet bag from under the cushion next to her, placing it in Lyda's palm when she turned to her. "I'm not much for collaring. And I told you I don't really have a use for marriage. Do you remember?" Lyda's gaze shifted to Gen.
Gen nodded. "I believe in action, not words," Lyda continued. "I don't even particularly believe in symbols, but when presenting a symbol is an act that says a million things words can't...well, that's different."
Gen drew in a breath as Lyda opened the small bag and deposited the contents into her hand. It was a trio of rings. One delicate silver, one a handsome gold, and one a twisted band of both, the thinner silver like a vine weaving around the thick gold. The mixed band and the silver were obviously women's rings, the gold a man's ring.
Lyda met Gen's gaze, shifted between it and Noah's. "By taking them, wearing them, we're promised to each other. Faithful through thick and thin, through car wrecks and laundry, cancer and even poor movie selections."
A ripple of laughter came from around them, but Gen was staring into Lyda's eyes. Despite the wry comment, her eyes were serious, intent, the whole world there. Noah's fingers tightened on hers, hard.
"It means you belong to me, and I will care for you. It means I love you both more than anything. It means I'm in love with you, and I want that love to keep growing until we're as twisted together as the band I'll wear, showing that this promise is made to you both. You're under no obligation to take the rings--"
She and Noah reached for them in one motion. Lyda's hand closed over them, preventing the retrieval, but the smile transformed her face as another murmur ran through the group, reflecting the pleasure and approval in Lyda's eyes. Gen also saw the swell of emotion at their quick response. Following impulse, she kept her hand resting on Lyda's closed one. Noah's overlapped them both, his longer fingers closing over Gen's, fingertips brushing the sides of Lyda's hand.
It was Noah who spoke for them both.
"There's nothing we want more than to belong to you and you alone, Mistress. We love you too." The desire and love in his eyes was unmistakable. "And in truth...I see myself as belonging to you both."
Gen touched his face. "Same goes." She shifted her gaze to Lyda. "We're all yours, Mistress. And, if it's not too presumptuous, we feel like you're ours."
"Doesn't matter if it's presumptuous or not, it's always the way it seems to work." The wry comment came from Violet, echoed by a snort from Marcus.