by Love Belvin
She was moments away from being mine. I could delay my possession until then.
Paying a few seconds to logic, I released her and turned toward her father. His eyes were restless as he stood in his slovenly fitted suit, just as bemused. I swayed my arm, requesting he proceed up the aisle and leave his daughter to me. Because I, indeed had it from here. With a moment of hesitation, Rasul continued his amble toward the altar. I turned to Alexis, my face still tense, and laced our fingers. I couldn’t help but swipe at her chin, that modest act resuscitating her lungs. With a gentle tug, I urged her into step and together we approached the altar.
I caught Bishop Jones’ amused eyes as we neared. As a confidant, he knew what weighed on this last piece of my calling. Alexis and I took our respective places in front of him, the song had ended and I gave an affirmative nod to initiate the ceremony. I’d officiated countless weddings, I could do my own, but that wouldn’t do for the descendant of Sylvester Carmichael. Everyone wanted to do the honors, including my father. There were Bishops and Apostles from every corner of the world—affiliated with our international organization and not—offering their clergy services. Some of those wowed my father, had him relenting his desire to do it.
I may have had heretical motives for today, but I only knew one man who would be up for the task. It was the one reciting a colorful and articulate opening prayer.
“Well, I believe this would be when I asked ‘who giveth this woman away’,” Bishop Jones jeered. The church went up in laughter, to which I was too anxious to join, “but it seems the man of God has already cleared that tradition.” Alexis giggled nervously, glancing back at her father, whose expression was just as impassive as I held my own. “So, why don’t we get right to it.”
I didn’t hear much after that. My impatience wouldn’t allow me to. All I could think about was Alexis, her thoughts, her willingness, her apprehensions, what she wore underneath this gown. I’d also made a mental note to check on the food order I put in place for our flight tonight. As I searched the depth of her eyes and each corner of her glorious face, I yearned to feel her against me. Couldn’t wait to provide for her and demonstrate a life with less stressors. Once Alexis was mine, I could alleviate so much, leaving room for her to focus on submitting herself to my every need. That alone would busy her.
“By the powers vested in me, you are now man and wife. Pastor Carmichael, you may now kiss your wife.”
Wha…
Wait!
Christ, we’re finally here?
Then it finally dawned on me. We were done. She was finally mine. The art of pursuit was over and I now had my wife. God had been faithful!
I heard the growl that ripped from my throat just before taking Alexis at the back of her neck and covering her nude lips with my own in an impassioned kiss that lifted her from the floor. My chest had expanded, my heart was light and I couldn’t keep my eyes or hands off my bride as we headed down the aisle against bursts of shouts, whoops and claps.
Standing at the foot of the steps to greet guests was painful. Most in attendance were no associates of mine, and my beloved knew but a handful. These guests were affiliates in ministry, family of my parents, most of whom I didn’t need to witness this day. However, throughout the ordeal I had to remind myself we all had to be in the position of compromise. This included me, though Alexis stood the bigger undertaking. She had no idea of the culture she’d be thrown into.
While she smiled and shook hands with each guest as they exited, I was struck with a thought. I called the wedding coordinator over and asked that we end this process prematurely. I didn’t want to overwhelm Alexis so soon. There were likely seven thousand people in attendance. While we weren’t expected to greet each one, it was written into the itinerary that we’d remain for at least thirty minutes to touch as many as possible. I’d already been fighting my desire to take her to my home and inhale her before our departure tonight. There was no way I could endure sharing her for another moment with strangers. It was bad enough we had to get through the reception.
We made it through photos with the wedding party without incident, other than folks heavily engaging their phones and Thaddeus having to remind Anushka she wasn’t allowed to take pictures of Stenton Rogers, one of my groomsmen. He was hardly paying any attention and would’ve totally missed it had it not been for Thaddeus and Stenton’s bodyguards’ diligence. That occurrence embarrassed Alexis. She yanked Anushka’s phone from her fingers and threatened to throw it into the pond behind us. Even angry, none of bridesmaids held a candle to Alexis’ beauty. All through the process, all I could think about was how my wood would look disappearing inside her. I knew she’d swallow me; I’d seen how lubricated she could get from my debauchery in her apartment after hauling her from the club. I also knew I could arouse her even more without touching her. I couldn’t wait.
On our way to LaChateau, located just outside of Bryant Park, I had a moment to clear my salacious thoughts as I corresponded with my office on preparing for an upcoming annual lab inspection. Yes, it was my wedding day, but I wouldn’t officially return to work for four weeks and had to be sure matters were settled before leaving the country for two weeks.
The reception facility was nothing short of inconceivable grand opulence. My mother fought viciously for this place. It was one thing to have a dinner party for seven as I had for our engagement party, and an entirely different matter to arrange for a reception. My father rancorously relented, literally, the last day allowable to contract with the place. I couldn’t care less about the demonstration of our family’s affluence and would have much preferred completing my nuptials in a courtroom with two witnesses, but that wasn’t possible as the only child, and that of Bishop and First Lady Carmichael of Redeeming Souls. No, I had to have a day that would compete with the Dante and Chiara de Blasio’s—who were in attendance, by the way—pending wedding days. My near 40 years of age didn’t matter.
We were taken to the bridal garden right away and served hors d’oeuvres. My frustrations had returned. I hadn’t had a moment alone with my wife. I told myself leading up to this day that I’d have to allow the pomp and circumstance of this circus to appease people it mattered to, namely my parents. But what was most compelling was my promise to give Alexis an official wedding she could look back on with fondness. I was sure today was turning out to be more than she bargained for.
Our party was asked to retreat to the main hall, leaving Alexis and me alone for just a few moments. I sat at the edge of an iron net table with one foot on the floor as I observed Alexis’ gown while she watched the group clear the room.
“I won’t jump you.” Alexis’ neck snapped over her shoulder.
“Pardon?”
My eyes landed on her parted nude lips.
“It’s okay to be left alone with your husband. I am now your husband.”
A bashful grin opened on her artful face, delicately painted with soft hues to enhance her beauty, her lashes even longer than usual. Alexis turned, adjusted her gown and ambled toward me. Her eyes danced with uncertainty. I would work on her self-confidence when it came to me. She was only this timid with me and only when I disclosed the predator in small increments. She could detect its presence.
This is going to be so good.
She stood in front of me, hands splayed against her thighs and chin hiked, feigning fortitude.
The pads of my fingers brushed down the intricate beaded lace of her stark white gown. I loved it on first sight; I now adore it on her rangy frame.
“Thanks for making covenant with me today, beloved,” I growled.
Alexis’ mouth formed an ‘o’ as though she’d had a moment of discovery.
“Covenant,” she breathed, confirming her realization of what we’d just done.
Created our own path.
I continued my up close assessment now that we were alone and I was free to explore her in costume. “This is a dimensional gown. Did you know that?”
Her ches
t rose at my innocuous stroke near her pelvis, her lashes fanned her cheeks. “I know the fins of the mermaid detaches.”
“That’s only a part of the transformation. This is another.”
I pushed to the back of her neck and unbuttoned the lace collar. Then I found the satiny hooks around the rare mounds of her breasts and released them from the miniature buttons. Once done, I pulled the triangular piece from her neck to the top of her chest. Alexis’ breasts where packed in the bustier, spilling over the rim of the garment. I couldn’t help the hissing sound that fled my lips.
I also couldn’t miss the deep breath she drew in response to my achingly slow tracing of her cleavage with my index finger. I couldn’t wait to bury my face there and my dick. I’d have fun with her bosom and she’d enjoy every moment of it.
I abandoned the table and dropped on my haunches to examine the flared trumpet skirt removal. That took a bit of discovery, but I was able to successfully disengage the long material that opened to the train and exposed those cacao legs and thighs that I had fantasized about since the first time I saw them quivering from orgasms. I felt the swell in my pants as I tapped her legs, one at a time for her to step out.
I stood and took an appreciative look at my bride in her post-ceremony attire. I couldn’t believe this moment was finally here. Though I’d only proposed to her two short months ago, I reflected back on the day after when I spent hours flicking the pages of catalogues in search of the perfect gown for her. All to live this moment where I was to transform her elegance. She glowed like a princess who I would transition into a queen the moment I slid inside of her.
Her chest rose and fell according to her rapid breathing pattern. Eyes darkened, lids trimmed with caged lust and her nose flared, telling of her increased anxiety.
Alexis took my breath away.
“Can you feel it?” I breathed into her ear at a volume meant just for her. “Have you any idea what I want to do to you the moment we’re done with this parade? When it’s only you and me? That moment I officially claim you as mine?” Her harsh breaths grew audible and my dick pulsated fully erect, tugging at the material keeping it captive. I ached for her. I stepped into her, so close to the point of pushing my erection into her belly as I took her at the wrists, circling them with deep reverence. “You are mine, Alexis. Mine to care for, mine to worship, mine to exploit, and mine to dominate. I have no idea how God was able to weave this union together in the flash of timing He did, but I plan to covet you in a manner that will take you places you’ve never known existed here on earth.” I drank in her scent, instantly becoming intoxicated by her natural heat. “You don’t have to be concerned with not being able to satisfy me, beloved. I will teach you just how to please me…with your pliant lips below, the sweet ones here—that I’m fighting not to taste just yet, not wanting to smear your makeup so soon—and with your mind.” Alexis’ head rolled back and her eyes closed. I could feel her pulse racing at her wrists. “You have to feel it. My need is so severe, so potent—”
A knock sounded at the door. “Pastor Carmichael,” the coordinator stretched her neck in the door. “We’re ready for you and the bride.”
I took a deep breath to keep from dismissing her. My eyes traveled over to Alexis and found her mouth parted and pupils dilated. “We have to go finish up the day, beloved.”
I shifted to lead Alexis to the door and we took to the elevator that led to the ballroom. The doors opened to the spectacular room that was packed just as we were announced as Mr. and Mrs. Ezra Carmichael over festive music. There were people in every corner of the room shouting boisterously as done at every wedding. This time it was for me. I could’ve done without the celebration. But because this was for Alexis, my promise to her, I would wear the mask to give her the fairy tale day she deserved. I had to remind myself of why I had to paste an endearing smile on my face when all I really wanted was to toss her over my shoulder and head to Teterboro.
We stood and waved as thousands of cameras flashed, blinding our corneas. I could feel the sweat from Alexis’ palm that suctioned us together as she squeezed her nervousness. I noted her timid smile. Christ. I didn’t want her anxious. I could only imagine what being shoved in front of a room full of religious and political dignitaries and stuffy church folks felt like to her. For my mother, this was about celebrating her only child’s nuptials, using the reservoir of resources that could civilize dozens of impoverished countries. For Alexis, it could have been a delayed reaction to agreeing to marry a man she just met five short months ago.
With one sharp yank of her arm, I pulled her swiftly into my arms, covering her goose bump-ridden body with a protective hold. I made sure my jovial smile remained as it was.
“Just smile, baby. I got you,” I murmured with my lips touching her ear.
I immediately felt her small hands gripping my back in frantic need of anchoring in response.
“Thank you.” I heard her respond faintly.
I don’t know how long she swayed in my arms, her total frame melding into me. I did catch a glimpse of my father, standing stock still and expressionless while he eyed us. He was unhappy because he was confused. He had no idea why I went through with this, but it wasn’t enough for him to forbid it because me marrying the woman of my choosing got him closer to his goal of being free to flaunt his women in my mother’s face full time now.
I saw my mother also. Her cheers were measured, masking her confusion, too. Unlike her husband, she had no ulterior motives to participate in this day.
They would not fret Alexis. They wouldn’t dampen the day that she would remember forever. I wouldn’t allow it. No matter how expedited, this marriage would be authentic. It wasn’t something I’d entered into on a whim. It was simply a commitment I accelerated having finally been conferred a necessity I’d requested years ago. I finally had her. My treasure.
The right one.
I felt a pointed tap on my back. I looked around and saw Rasul. It was like a bubble burst and I could hear the music blasting and remaining applause. I’d clearly zoned out. When Alexis’ head rose underneath my chin, I realized I wasn’t the only one.
“C’mon, man,” he drawled, appearing sloshed already. “You not gonna take this part away from me too, are you?”
“Pardon?”
“Daddy and daughter dance, man,” Rasul informed.
I scanned the room and found the coordinator nodding her head and then heard a new record starting. I pulled back from Alexis, reminding myself that this was all for her, though never again would I relinquish her from my arms or home to him.
Her eyes regarded me wearily as I backed away from the two. She could sense my reluctance. I didn’t allow the feeling to linger as I stepped off the wooden dance floor. As the record continued I recognized the lyrics to “Chocolate Girl”.
Ahh… The Whispers…
I couldn’t ignore the twinge of jealousy I felt in the pit of my stomach at her, not just in a man’s arms, but this one in particular. Rasul may have been her weakness, but to me he was weak. He used her and there was nothing I could do about it at this point. I hadn’t gained her trust to earn her influence on that blatant fact. I watched as he gleamed at her while likely speaking about me, talking smack about my possessiveness. She smiled back at him affectionately, warmed by his attention to her, exclusively.
“It’s hard for fathers to give their daughters away to men. Can you imagine how he feels about giving his to a stranger?”
I turned to find my father. He stood facing the dance floor, not even acknowledging me.
“Prayerfully, I’ll never know what it feels like to have to give away a daughter,” I grated.
He whistled a laugh as the emcee spoke again. “Don’t let your mother hear you say that. I’m sure she agreed to all of this under the guise of coaxing grandchildren. She didn’t think you’d ever marry.
There was a tug to the right of me while I engaged my father to the left of me. It was my mother.
�
��It’s time for our dance, son.” Her smile was broad, proud.
I glanced up and saw Rasul leading Alexis off the dance floor and my chest tightened. I didn’t want her going far and certainly not with him. Brushing past it, I took my mother’s soft hand into mine and began to the dance floor.
As I took off, my father grabbed me at the shoulder, faltering my steps.
“Make sure you give Precious some attention today. She’s having a hard time according to her mother,” he whispered.
In return, I issued a deadpan expression, in sheer disbelief of his request. New music queued, the proverbial “Momma” by Boyz II Men.
“My leave of all responsibilities as it concerns Redeeming Souls began this morning: my wedding day,” I informed before continuing to the center of the floor with my mother just behind me.
Unable to shake what had been the start of a foul mood for several reasons—my wandering Alexis being one of them—I applied effort in trying to relax into the sweet energy my mother never failed to provide. No matter the circumstance, she forged for positivity, compliance and ultimately peace.
“This place is quite elegant,” I attempted to thank her.
“Yeah,” she sighed, trying to muster a response. “We almost missed out on it because of cutting it so close.”
“I’m sorry for the velocity of my decision, but I want you to know my attempt is in earnest. I want Alexis as my wife.”
This sigh was accompanied by the closing of her eyes. “Son, I don’t exactly worry about you anymore. I’ve gotten used to your surprise and determination to walk to the beat of your own drum.” She flicked her neck to gesture behind her. “My concern is for her. She may not be as resilient as you. Marriage is a lifetime commitment. You don’t throw it away just because of a few bad days.” Or a lifetime of betrayals? “This thing is forever and I don’t trust that she can look past your haste and love you through discovering who you are.” Her hand tapped my chest. “You’re special, Ezra, always have been. For so many years, I didn’t think you’d marry and accepted it, understanding your unique callings. Being tied to a man like you will come with many days of pain and confusion. You’ve had your days of crazy, Ezra. I’m your mother; I’ve been at the other end of your heartbreak many times.”