Belle Pearl (15 page)

O
ur long-awaited wedding was a fairytale. It took place in Lapland—yes, Lapland really does exist—on St. Valentine’s Day itself.

Pearl had done everything to make it extraordinary, including reindeer with white velvet ribbons tied around their antlers, to pull us with sleds. She had told little Amy that they were on loan from Santa Claus and even I believed her. It really was a dream winter wedding. Pearl was the Ice Queen and I her King. She looked resplendent in a floor-length, ivory-colored gown. It was silk velvet, and caught the light as she glided through the wedding ceremony, the long train trailing behind her. Beads of ‘ice crystal’ blossoms cascaded off one shoulder. Elodie and Amy were her bridesmaids, both dressed in pink. Elodie looked like a movie star, the derriere of her gown low and scooped, caught at the back with pink silk roses, and Amy, taking her role very seriously, was dressed in a pink, baby-doll, organza number with a wreath in her hair.

The chapel was made of real ice, sculpted from the frozen land. Dozens of artists had arrived from across the globe to carve the ice interiors. Each year, they told us, the designs were completely different and would melt in springtime. Nothing but our memories and photographs would be testament to our magical day.

I stood there in my tails, nervously waiting for Pearl as she walked quietly down the aisle. Everybody was entranced. Sophie was misty-eyed; both her husband and Alessandra by her side—he still had no idea, and thought Alessandra was just an old friend from Sophie’s ‘acting’ days. My mother stood tall and proud, my stepfather holding her hand. Anthony and Daisy were blatantly blubbing into handkerchiefs. And Pearl’s father winked at me as if to say,
She’s yours now, don’t fuck up the way I did.

No, I wasn’t going to fuck-up. I had fought hard for this prize.

I locked my eyes with Pearl’s and let out a sigh of relief. She was about to be mine. All mine. I thought back to how she bolted from me at Van Nuys Airport and wondered, just for a split second, if she would run from me now. But her gaze remained steadily on my face, a faint smile on her lips. Concentrated. Determined. She wanted me. All of me. The bad me, the okay me, the me that knew that we would be together as long as we both lived.

A dysfunctional match made in Heaven.

No, she wasn’t any more perfect than I was—in fact, she really was a pretty wayward character, but she was perfect for
me
. She broke out in a huge smile and I beamed at her in return. We giggled nervously like schoolchildren at the excitement of it all. Then I mouthed silently, “Pearl Chevalier,” as she walked slowly towards me, her eyes glistening, twinkling with emotion.

And then she was by my side as we did our wedding vows. At the end, after we’d exchanged rings, the pastor asked everyone to affirm our matrimony.

“If you believe that Pearl and Alexandre are made for one another, say yes!” he cried out, and everyone shouted back in unison, “Yes!”

“Say it louder!” he demanded, and they did. It was an unorthodox touch on his part, no doubt planned ahead, but it took us both by surprise, and something about that big ‘Yes’ made us snap out of the surreal dream of our fairytale wedding, and into a shocking moment. Shocking because this was it. Forever—the Yes giving us strength for our future. They all believed in us, just as much as
we
believed in us. Words are powerful when spoken by many at one time. Especially with conviction.

It was comforting to know that our twins were also part of the ceremony, even if only in Pearl’s stomach. The family I had always dreamed of was almost complete.

Our wedding bands were made of 22 carat gold and each had the other’s name inscribed inside. So not only was
P E A R L
engraved on my heart, but on my finger, too.

The celebration continued all night, everybody doing their own thing—sled rides, vodka drinking, feasting, and general jovialities all round. I just wanted to be alone with Pearl.

I helped her down from the sled onto the powdery, glittery snow, as snowflakes fluttered onto our faces. Reindeer and sled dropped us off at our remote log cabin where a glowing fire awaited us inside. I glanced skyward, soaking up the spectacle. The Aurora Borealis—the Northern Lights—swooped above us. Five fingers of sweeping green light, like a giant’s hand, raised itself towards the Heavens. God’s hand? Pearl thought so. If ever there was a moment when I felt that there was a Higher Power, this was it. I had it all. The woman I loved by my side, pregnant with twins, and a sense of freedom and relief as I had never known before in my life. The old world was behind me and I was starting afresh. We were a mountain together, Pearl and I.

That night, we fucked for the first time in months, so it really did feel to me as if it was new to us. Okay, we’d had delicious sex in many other ways, but no penetration—doctor’s orders in case Pearl suffered a miscarriage. It had happened to her twice before during her marriage to Saul and we didn’t want to take any risks. So this night really was our wedding night in every sense. She was my virgin bride. I felt reverent towards my new wife, but I also couldn’t wait to enter her. Deep. Profound. I needed that union. It had been far too long. As beautiful as her wedding gown was, I had visions of what lay beneath—and I couldn’t wait.

I observed Pearl quietly as she lay on the bed before me. Horny as I was, I didn’t want to rush a thing. This was a moment to be savored for the rest of our lives. I could hardly breathe I had so much love overflowing from within me; a pumping surge which took my body by surprise. I could now know
for sure
that she belonged to me. No more ifs or buts. No more cat and mouse.

“Pearl Chevalier,” I said, rolling those sweet words on my tongue. “Madame Pearl Chevalier, tu es magnifique.” The golden light of the fire highlighted the curves of her nude body and glowed on her beautiful face. “Je t’aime,” I added with pride. I could feel myself get hard. “Do you realize how I’ve been longing for this moment? Counting down the days, the hours?”

“Well, that’s how they had to do it in the olden days. The groom had to
wait
for his wedding night,” she said.

I remained stationary, drinking in the incomparable image. The image that I wanted imprinted on my brain until the end of my days, so when I was old, gray and doddery I could remember this moment.

“Do you know what I’m going to do to you?” I murmured. She bit her lip and spread her legs a touch. My cock flexed again. I slowly sauntered towards her, my eyes locked with hers. Her blonde hair had grown in the last few months and was spread like silky bands across her shoulders.

I bent down and kissed her. I inhaled in her sweet scent, and a feral moan rumbled from my throat. She opened her lips and her pink tongue, fresh and eager, darted out to meet mine. She whimpered and I knew how wet she’d be, even though I hadn’t even touched that part of her yet. “Pearl Chevalier,” I said again, and winked at her. “Mrs. Pearl Chevalier. Madame Pearl Chevalier.”

“Oh don’t be so sure, I might decide to be Mzzzz,” she teased, “or mademoiselle. I might keep my maiden name.”

“No more games, Pearl,” I said, nipping her pussycat lip, “you’re mine now.”

“Prove it,” she moaned into my mouth.

“Oh, I will.”

Her nipples were tweaked with desire and her tits full and round from the pregnancy. I trailed my tongue over her lips, and my fingers grazed across her taut breasts and I pinched and rolled one nipple lightly. “Oh God,” she groaned, her eyes fluttering.

I pinned her beneath me, my knees either side of her hips, my cock rock-hard against her curved belly where Louis and Madeleine—we had just come up with the names a couple of hours earlier—were growing stronger day by day. I almost felt wicked, knowing I was about to defile their pure mother. But it also made me all the more ravenous for Pearl, knowing that the seed inside her was growing into two special little beings, who would talk and walk and have their own opinions about life.
We
had created them together. Through love. And lust.

She traced her fingers over my pecs and ran them slowly down to my abdomen, letting her fingers dip into the ridges, scanning my torso with her guileless, approving eyes. “You’re beautiful, Alexandre,” she told me.

I leaned down to kiss her again, letting our lips rest quietly together. We were united and about to be joined even closer. I needed that proximity. I needed to be deep inside her. I edged further down until my cock rested on her slick wetness. Desire pooled low in my gut and blood pumped hard and fast into my groin. I was huge and worried that I might hurt her, yet the need to fuck her was stronger than ever. I could feel every nuance of her soft, liquid heat and I slid in just a millimeter.
Fuck!
It felt out of this world. “Is that okay, baby? I don’t want to damage you.”

“Help me,” she whimpered.

“Am I hurting you?”

“Please fuck me, Alexandre.
Please.”
I pushed in another inch, using my arms to control my weight on her. Her eyes flicked to my biceps and she bit her lip. She bucked her hips up at me to get closer but I carried on controlling myself. “Your muscles are so defined,” she whispered. “You’re so incredible—every part of you.”

I made small circular movements so she could adjust to my size. I could feel myself throbbing, and the sensation of her tight pussy, like a warm glove, had my sensitive cock ready to plunge into her. Fuck her hard. But I counted to ten and remained steadily, gently thrusting, only a couple of inches in. I had to control myself.

“So. Juicy. So. Fucking. Beautiful.” My dick punctuated each word.

She clawed my ass with her nails and drew me in closer but I wouldn’t give in, in case I hurt her. Her ankles clamped my calves and she pumped herself in rhythm with me. “Oh my God, this is incredible,” she moaned. “I’m going to come soon.”

Our foreheads were locked together and our breaths in unison as if we were one being. I pulled out and let my cock slide up and down her clit—she was on the edge—so this was a way to both bring her back down and also to drive her wild. I wanted this to last longer because I was in a sort of spiritual, lovemaking bliss. She was too. Long gone were the days when I had to work hard to make Pearl come—that challenge was over. I slipped back inside her and resumed the mini thrusts, just my crown teasing her mercilessly as she arched her back, groaning for more of my thick, solid cock.

“Remember to…Love. Honor. And, Obey. Your. Husband,” I growled, half jesting. I could feel her contractions gripping me, sucking me in—she was coming hard. I couldn’t hold it any longer. I pushed myself in a little more and exploded, my seed probably joining the twins.

Pearl’s tongue was all over mine as she murmured almost incoherently, “I’ll obey you, Alexandre. I’ll do anything for you. Anything—every inch of me belongs to you.”

We were climaxing together in an emotional rush of trust, lust and love.

“Anything?”

“Oh God I’m still coming….anything, baby,” she moaned, her fingers were gripping my ass.

“Stay with me forever, my belle Pearl.”

“I swear,” she said, kissing me again.

15

P
earl and I settled beautifully into married life. After the twins were born, she became more of a woman and less of a girl; so much so that I would goad her sometimes to be more frivolous and less responsible. Perhaps I missed that foolish character that jumped out of the ladies’ room window and got me running round in circles—a little bit anyway. I understood that our wayward paths had been the right ones, and nothing we had ever done in our lives could—or should—have been different, including the ‘fuck-ups.’ If they had been, we wouldn’t have felt so lucky to be together.

Pearl became quite a mover and shaker with HookedUp Enterprises and began to spread her wings. I was so proud. Those wings which had been damaged when I first knew her, were now helping her soar to great heights. She had so much more confidence being married and a mother.

One evening, as we sat by a roaring fire in our apartment, I came clean about the Bloody Mary incident—it had been eating at me. I didn’t want to hide anything. I went into detail about how I was trussed up like a Christmas turkey, hands bound with electric cable, ‘marinated’ by the drug-spiked Bloody Mary, with Laura poised on top of me, my dick ready for lift-off. Pearl thought it hilarious—in retrospect—but admitted that I’d done the right thing not to tell her at the time. We had no secrets from each other now. I reveled in my newfound freedom of not carrying weights upon my shoulders; secrets so heavy that they made you stumble through life—what a relief. Both Pearl and I were free and it felt fucking great.

I had become a sort of househusband, being able to work from home, with the twins on my lap, or crawling about the floor while I ‘tested’ the video games in my new company, or made calls—I’d also bought up a chain of boutique hotels to add to my portfolio, which I needed to manage. Sally had become nanny to the children as well as to Rex, so we were a busy, bustling household. We were making ridiculous money with our video games, my new partner and I, and it was more creative than HookedUp, which Sophie was now handling pretty much solo. I still owned shares but was out of the day-to-day grind of it. Sebastian’s and my new video game was a work of art, with high concept character building and role-play. Meanwhile, Pearl and Natalie went from strength to force with HookedUp Enterprises and had branched out into magazines as well.