Be My Bride_BWWM Romance

by Shanade White

  “How is the planning coming?” she asked as she picked up her coat.

  “It’s coming,” Kimone said with a slight shrug, her mind already on what to do about the old dolls in the corner. “Thank God I don’t have to do the actual planning; I just have to show up.”

  “You know Kimone, most women would be ecstatic in planning their wedding but not you because you are not like us normal everyday women are you?” Dawn could not stop the trace of bitterness from seeping into her voice and Kimone stared at her in surprise.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’ll see you,” the girl said briefly and pushed the door open. Kimone was about to go after her but just then several customers came in at the same time.

  It was not until later in the evening and she had gone up to Peter’s office that she remembered her friend’s strange words. It was a little past seven and the office staff had left but Peter had stayed back because he wanted to go over some files.

  Kimone had jumped on his desk and was there swinging her legs, distracting him. “I think Dawn is upset with me about something,” she told him absently. He had looked at her in amusement as she jumped up on his desk without the slightest thought of decorum. He turned his chair around so that he was facing her; working with her so near was like fighting a losing battle anyway.

  “What could she possibly be upset with you about?” he asked her.

  “Are you making fun of me?” she narrowed her eyes at him. For the first time since coming into his office she noticed how attractive and relaxed he looked in a black and white cardigan and black pants with his hair falling onto his forehead. She reached over and pushed it away, her hand lingering on his face. He really was quite handsome, she thought with an inward smile.

  “I would never do that,” he said softly, capturing her hand against his face. With a gentle movement he pulled her off the desk and onto his lap.

  “What are you doing?” she squealed, bracing her hands against his chest to balance herself.

  “Trying to get a proper greeting from you.” He murmured.

  “So why didn’t you just asked?” she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “I am asking now,” he bent his head and reached for her mouth; his heart pounding as she opened her mouth underneath his. He had spent the last few days beating himself up and wondering if he was doing the right thing but he knew that no matter what she did or how she felt about him; he was not able to let her go. She wriggled her butt on him and he groaned; his erection growing. With a shaky laugh he pulled up her sweater and reached for her breasts, passing over her nipples.

  “Tell me what you want,” he urged, pushing her sweater up and over her head, revealing a flesh colored lace bra.

  “I want you,” she gasped; gripping his shoulders.

  “You have me,” he bent his head and using his tongue; he licked her nipple, not even bothering to push aside the bra. He gripped her hips as she moved against him restlessly; his erection boring into her.

  He eased her up a little and pulled down the zipper of his pants, releasing his erection. Kimone pulled up her skirt and he eased her panties away and entered her slowly, tentatively as if afraid to hurt her. But she was having none of that. With a hoarse cry she pulled him inside her, moving on top of him frenziedly. Peter held her hips firmly and thrust inside her over and over again, his breathing shallow as she closed around him tightly. He pushed aside her bra and fastened his mouth on one of her nipples, swirling his tongue around it before pulling it inside his mouth. He felt her body shudder as the orgasm ripped through her body and his own body responded and he felt his seed spilling inside her.

  They held on tightly as their bodies shivered in unison and with a deep shuddering sigh, Peter held her closer to him; knowing he could never let her go.

  Chapter 7

  The wedding took place at a chapel that her mother attended and it had snowed the day before, leaving a dazzling backdrop of white that hurt the eyes. Peter had bought her an ankle length white leather coat that was buttery soft on the inside and very warm to put over her dress. Even though she had decided not wear a veil; Maxeen had put on a beautiful white barrette entwined with baby’s breath in her ruthlessly upswept curls. Tiny diamond knobs winked at her earlobes and her make-up was flawless.

  Peter was dressed in a dark blue suit with a white gardenia in his lapel; he was handsome and looked what he was: a successful businessman and soon to be her husband. There were more people there than she had expected and to her surprise the little chapel was full to overflowing. Dawn was her only attendant and Peter had asked his best friend Michael Malcolm to be his best man. He had overridden her protests of this being a sham and they should have just gone to the courts office and done it.

  “I want a real wedding because it is the only one I will ever do, so please humor me,” he had told her coolly with an unreadable expression on his face.

  She had looked at him curiously and then nodded. She had been aware that there was something he was not telling her but figured he would tell her when he was ready. She had not spent the night with him but had spent it at her mother’s with Dawn who had told her that the next day was her wedding day so that anything they needed to discuss about what she had said before; it would stay until after.

  The ceremony went off without a hitch and as she repeated her vows and listened to his; she found herself looking into his intense dark brown eyes; and she discovered that she could not look away. They exchanged rings and she stared down at the small yet beautifully tasteful gold band with tiny diamonds all around it and even though she had told him that she had not wanted a flashy ring, the one he had chosen cost more than she dared to think about. She had bought a simple gold band for him when he had told her he expected to be given one. Very soon she was Mrs. Peter Makeida and it felt very strange to be referred to as Peter’s wife.

  The reception was held at one of the hotels he had shares in; a beautiful five star building that had been renovated only recently. They would be staying in the honeymoon suite after and Kimone had very wisely kept her opinions to herself. She had changed out of the lovely yet restricting wedding dress and had put on a dark blue dress that came just above her knees and hugged her bodice and swirled from her waist down. She had been surprised yet resigned to find out that there had been several packages delivered to his house with dresses, chic suits, belts, shoes and even lingerie. She had called to thank Amy even though she had not wanted all of it but to her surprise, Amy had told her that Peter had done the shopping himself.

  “You shopped for me?” They were twirling around the dance floor; their first dance as husband and wife and she closed her arms around his neck as they moved to the beat of the song playing. She was wearing impossibly high black shoes that brought her up to almost eye level with him. “I thought Amy did the shopping.”

  “I wanted to shop for my wife,” he told her lightly; tightening his arms around her small waist. He had stared at her coming towards him in the church and had wanted to run to meet her and sweep her into his arms.

  “Even if your wife does not care for all the expensive clothes that could outfit an entire store?” she asked him in amusement, her heart jumping a little at his possessive tone.

  “You are going to have to entertain occasionally, I hope you are okay with that,” Peter reminded her. He had told her from the start but she had totally forgotten about that aspect of it.

  “Are you sure I can make adequate dinner conversation,” she asked him tilting her head to the side and her delightful smile coming forth, revealing the cute space between her teeth.

  He felt weak with relief that she was not objecting and he wanted to kiss her there and then.

  “I have all confidence in you,” he told her softly, giving in to his desire and bending his head to take her lips with his. With a sigh, Kimone opened her mouth under his and moved closer to him, her tongue touching his. He deepened the kiss and for a magical moment he pretended that she felt the same way
about him and that they were a couple deeply in love.

  Across the room; Dawn sat there at one of the tables; her eyes on them wistfully. Gregory was beside her but she could barely look at him and had not wanted him to come. He had reached for her hand as they were sitting around the table and she had allowed him to take it but she had wanted to pull away. What was wrong with her that a perfectly sweet man like Gregory was interested in her, loved her even but all she could do is look at her best friend and her husband and feel the envy twisting her inside? When had she become this person?

  “Want to dance?” he asked her, giving her hand a squeeze. She started to say no but after feeling like the lowest person on earth, she told him yes and let him led her onto the dance floor. Other couples had joined the newlywed as well and Kimone waved to her gaily, before turning to laugh at something her husband said.

  Dawn placed her hands on Gregory’s solid shoulders and with a bolstering smile she started following his steps.

  Kimone made the rounds as Mrs. Peter Makeida; smiling and greeting his employees and business associates and making the necessary small chatter. Peter was right beside her and he held onto her or otherwise she would have taken a seat long ago. Her feet were killing her; these shoes were definitely not made for walking.

  He sensed that she was wilting and with a charming smile he told the guests that they were going to retire for the night because it was time for the honeymoon to start. With a lot of laughter and ribaldry and friendly suggestions they went to the pent house suite.

  Kimone barely noticed the sheer luxury of the gold and white suite as she kicked off her shoes just inside the doorway and sank her feet into the luxuriant carpet. “If I had to stand another minute in those killer heels, I would have collapsed.” She said with a grimace, giving him a curious look as he took up the shoes she had left at the doorway and placing them neatly in a corner of the room. She had noticed that he did that with her things when she left them lying around at his house. “I warned you about my untidiness,” she murmured as she sat on the side.

  “You don’t hear me complaining do you?” he commented as he walked over to join her. “Want a foot rub?” he sat beside her on the bed. He had not changed like she had done and was still in the suit he got married in but when they had come into the room he had shed his jacket and loosened his shirt buttons.

  “Does this come with being married to you?” she asked teasingly giving a sigh as he reached for her feet and put them in his lap.

  “Absolutely.” He told her with a smile. He started with her instep and worked his way towards her toes which had been painted a pale shade of pink for the occasion and Kimone felt the tension easing away like some magical ointment had been poured on her feet.

  “Goodness, how did you learn how to do that?” she asked him as he continued to rub her feet gently. She was starting to feel relaxed and comfortable.

  “Ancient Japanese art,” he said blithely, a smile tilting his mouth.

  “Really?” she looked at him uncertainly, not sure if he was joking or not.

  “Really,” he told her with a grin; running a finger down the sole and sending shivers through her body. “It’s called ‘Shiatsu' and it means ‘finger pressure’. Remind me to give you the full body massage one day.” His voice had gone husky and to her shock she saw him lifting her foot and bending his head to take a toe inside his mouth.

  “Peter,” she moaned as he sucked on it, sending bolts of fire through her body. He continued and turned his attention to the other toes. Kimone had never experienced anything like that before and when his mouth drifted towards her ankle, she was gripping the fine Egyptian cotton sheets tightly. His mouth traveled slowly up her thigh pushing up the dress and revealing the sheer white silk panties she was wearing. He bit her gently just beside her pubic area causing Kimone to jump in shocked pleasure before easing the material away to reveal her vagina. He was exploring and with gentle movements he removed her panties and pulled the dress over her head.

  She was not wearing any bra; her wedding dress and the one she had changed into had not been made for it so her small breasts were revealed to him immediately; the nipples hard as pebbles. He used his fingers to part the folds of her vagina, dipping a finger inside her and looking at the reaction on her face. Kimone cried out as his fingers worked inside her, gently at first then fervently, his thumb moving over her mound as his fingers moved in and out of her rapidly. She was delirious and almost salivating with the unbelievable pleasure he was evoking inside her.

  He was not through with her yet. He removed his fingers and before she could protest or beg him to continue; he bent his head and plunged his tongue inside her. She shattered into tiny pieces. The orgasm build up inside her with such intensity that she was sobbing with the magnitude of it. She was sure she was dying as his tongue thrust inside her rapaciously, his teeth grazing her mound. She exploded inside his mouth, her cries filling the room as he continued to use his tongue to devour and satisfy her.

  He pulled away only when the shivering had stopped but only to hurriedly pull the clothes from his body. He knelt over her, the hair falling onto his forehead, his erection rigid and pulsing; the tip red and moist. He stared at her sex drugged face, her hair in riotous curls on the white sheets, her mouth parted slightly as her breathing slowed down somewhat. She was his and even though she might not know it yet, she was falling in love with him. Very gently he entered her warm wet opening and sighed brokenly as she closed around him like a well fitting glove. He did not move for a minute; just wanting to savor the feel of her but she was not having it. She had recovered from the powerful orgasm that had rocked her to the very core and was hungry for more of him.

  “Peter,” she whispered, closing her arms around his waist and bringing his head down to meet her lips; moving against him. He moved with her, his mouth on hers, deepening the kiss as he thrust deep inside her, touching her core. He lifted her hips to bring her closer to him, his mouth buried within hers; their bodies moving in sync. He wanted to devour her; he felt as if the love he felt for her was consuming him and getting out of control and he had no way of slowing it down.

  They came together tumultuously; their cries lost in each other’s mouths as their bodies shuddered and they clung to each other in support.

  *****

  They did not leave the hotel until late Monday afternoon and even when she insisted that she had to go and open her store he had told her to send the key to the girl she had hired part time and let her open for one day.

  “The store is not going to fall apart if you’re not there for one day,” he had said firmly as he made the arrangements for one of his staff to collect the key from her.

  “That’s easy for you to say, you have thousands of employees.” She had pouted but all he had done was kiss her on her mouth and tumbled her onto the bed.

  He took her out to a restaurant Sunday night and they had lobster and shellfish. They went back to the hotel and made love for the entire night; insisting on her sleeping on top of him when they did sleep.

  She had given up her apartment with great reluctance and had missed seeing the look on his face as she walked around. She had packed up her things and given some of the stuff away that she would not need.

  “Want something to eat?” he asked her as soon as he deposited their bags in the master bedroom. It was after six in the evening on Monday and the temperature had been surprisingly mild. She had resisted the urge to tell him to stop at the store for her to check out how Samantha had managed but she had remained silent to be fair to him. He had turned off his phone and had told his secretary and assistant that he did not care what it was, he was not to be disturbed.

  “After eating that whole plate of food plus dessert?” she asked him in disbelief. She had taken off her pink cashmere sweater and denims and had slipped on a robe; one of the many he had bought her.

  They settled in for the night and watched an old musical together, curled up in front of the fire plac
e and for that moment Peter could almost believed that the marriage was real and she was as in love with him as he was with her.

  *****

  They quickly settled into a routine. He would prepare breakfast for them while she was putting on her clothes because as he discovered; when she was getting dressed, the entire closet was flung on the bed because she could not decide what to wear and by the time she was finished the room was like a hurricane had passed through it. “I can’t decide what to wear,” she would mutter turning accusing eyes on him as she stalked out to the kitchen where he was already dressed and fixing the meal. “It was easier when I had a small amount of clothes.”

  “Okay I will take the blame,” he said, moving past her scantily clad body and picking out something appropriate for her to put on.

  “You are definitely a keeper,” she grinned at him, rising on tip toes to kiss him briefly on the lips.

  He would drop her off at work and picked her up when he left the office. Sometimes he had to go to a meeting and he would send someone to pick her up, even though she had told him that she was perfectly capable of finding her way to the house.

  It was two weeks after they were married when he called her and told her that there was something outside for her. With several customers inside the store because she was in the middle of a reading session and a tea party, she had kept on Samantha full time because the store had receiving a lot of customers. “Peter what have you done now?” she had asked resignedly as she made her way to the front of the store. It was now the end of February and the weather was not so bad. She pushed the door open and there, parked right alongside the curb was a bright cherry red BMW convertible with the top down and the keys still in the ignition. “What is this Peter?” she asked her voice hushed.

  “What does it look like?” he asked a trace of amusement in his deep voice.

  “It looks like a totally expensive car that I am going to be afraid to drive in case I total it in a week.”