Brian

I stand on the alter, this is the d-day, even now all the nerves of my body are restless, all of them are telling me to run away before you regret this stupid decision. However, my heart is at peace. I feel a slight expansion in my heartbeat, that’s the thrill of getting married, I don’t think so. Seeing Inessa again yes, maybe.

Moreover, I am fucking wearing the pink tie that she chose for me. This is the first and last time I am wearing this kind of bullshit. After tonight I am going back to my black suit. Robbie, Owen, Viola, Lyra, all my friends, even my dada laughed loud when they saw me in pink.

We connected the whole three weeks before the wedding through texts and calls. I needed to take off to London once again for a week. Inessa was busy with our wedding arrangement. That’s the reason she didn’t have much time to annoy me with her gibberish. It was peaceful weeks, the closest I have to have this woman stroll into my life.

I also scorned the silence, the serenity I was lusting for. For a month I felt too much, I should be overjoyed with what I wanted, but I felt empty. So many nights I wanted to call her, I stopped myself thousands of times from picking up the phone or dialing her number to listen to her voice.

She is all over me like an infected virus, a part of me misses her when she is not near.

I have been jerking off for weeks imagining her lovely face; I don’t know what to take after me. I lost my sanity. I don’t think the urge is so high that I couldn’t stop myself from wanking off in the shower every night before sleep, also in the morning. Suddenly, I feel like a juvenile who is fresh to the world of pleasure and can’t help but stay horny all the time.

I am becoming that youngster.

We didn’t spend sufficient time together to get to know one another. Hell, I don’t even know her favorite food or color; I was simply too busy with work to analyze those things about my fiancée.

Standing in this church in front of the pastor who is going to marry us in a few minutes, I recall this is the first time I was inside a church in the first place. Before, today I never even came across one. I wouldn’t be here today if my wife was not this whole religious woman.

Some women are spiritual by name or they like to say that, but Inessa is an upright one. She visits church two days a week, has a group with them, studies Bible every week, and rigorously follows all the rites. I didn’t know all this until she said we were getting married in church.

I wanted to have this party in a hotel or something more lavish. I wanted to throw a party that will be in the history of the wedding. The globe will remember it all their life, but Inessa was adamant about a church wedding.

She was so adamant about this one point that she declared that if not church, then she would not go through this marriage at all.

So I have to give her the green light, it’s her wedding too. I just couldn’t take that away from her.

This woman is making me do things that I hate most, and I am following all her instructions with a frown. Now it’s too late to regret it.

Everyone stands from their sits as my bride steps into the church, I follow Robbie my best man’s eyes, and see my bride in a white lace traditional dress, a bunch of white and pink roses, a small bouquet on her hand while the other is linked with her father, a long veil covers her face completely.

My breath caught up seeing her this way, this is really happening, no rescue from this now. All this time I kept this marriage thing out of my mind. I was too deep in the ocean of work to realize my surroundings. But here I am doing the thing that I swore once upon a time to avoid at any cost.

I am fucking getting married.

We all need to face our fear, to challenge our inner self. This is my fear. Commitment, relationships, marriage is not my thing, I am afraid of these words more than anything.

I know who I am. I am my father’s son. Whatever my father represents through him, I tried hard to swallow all of these in me. I am not going to let him down. I never did. I never will.

If he wants me to get married, I fucking get married. And I will stay loyal, work on this marriage as my dada did with his wife. I will be everything that a husband requires, but I know I can’t love her.

Love is not on the plate in this marriage.

Whatever, and who cares about all these when we are already here, let’s get over these rituals so I can be more at ease for our wedding night.

The highlight of this whole fucking day, the only thing I was looking forward to from the moment I saw Inessa in that red dress at the gala night.

Two words, and it’s done. We are a man and woman.

During our first dance, Inessa chose the song, a classic romantic song of which I am not aware, I am too busy to think about the night also appreciating my wife’s beauty. When I got rid of the white considerable length of curtain to kiss her, I was stunned; I am still. She is undoubtedly the most exquisite woman I have ever seen until she opens her damn mouth.

“Tonight is the action time, McCoy. But you need to be gentle and careful with me, rose. I am a pure virgin also remember, I want slow and sweet love-making sessions.” She whispers while we dance. “Blowjob is not on the plate tonight, I know you are dying for my mouth, but you need to be patient.”

Even when she speaks, that only works me up, I can’t stop admiring her. I don’t know if I am delusional or this is the truth. Inessa becomes more beautiful with the passing of time.

She is like a fine wine that ages extraordinary with each second. I never feel this kind of urge for any woman that I am feeling for her in my arms at this very moment. I want to take her into any room near her, get rid of this lace fabric that is cringing on her curves perfectly, free her blond hair from the updo, and fuck her until we both are too tired to walk.

I don’t know what happened after the dance, time ran away while I was drunk on my bride’s beauty. I have an entire lifetime to spend with my wife; however, for some unknown reason that doesn’t seem enough time to me.

Samantha approaches me in the bar, she and I had a fling after Olivia’s death, she doesn’t know anything because I don’t think it will be okay to say anything to her, especially when she is the biggest gossiper in Chicago.

“Congratulation, Brian.” She says.

“Thank you.” I nod.

“I guess you are going to have some fun with your new wife for now.” She steps closer to me and whispers. “I am here, darling, if you need something, I am happy to help.

She walks away, and I try to stay in control, all the women are the same. Did she really think I would seek her while staying marrying with another woman? I will never ever disrespect my wife, not with another woman. I saw how my mother broke my father into two pieces, I know the prize of heartbreak, betrayal, I see the pain in my father’s eyes every day. Inessa is not going through that hell, not because of me.

I would love to die before throwing my wife to that shame of fire.

“There is something I need to talk to you about.” Viola, my sister comes to me, she mostly stays in New York to handle our office there, a few times she flies home that is also not more than a couple of days.

“Shoot.”

Viola is like dada and me, a businesswoman. She works hard and she knows her job, and she is also good at it. She doesn’t date or anything, it’s been a long time since I saw her with a man. She pours all her energy into her work, which leaves a little too much time for the man she dates.

Apparently, that doesn’t go well with these jerks, they don’t want their girlfriend to be more successful than them; it hurts their little ego. I think she doesn’t need those ninnies in her life either. She is enough for herself, and I love and respect her for that.

She also happens to think like me, which is why we are the perfect pair to run this empire side by side. All business and the calculating mind of her is another reason for our success.

Viola is a true asset to our family, and everyone in our household acknowledges that.

“It’s business, bro.”

“Hold on.” Even today she wants to talk about work even today, I am not in the mood for those official discussions today. “Not today, Vi. Today is my wedding, enjoy this ceremony. We can have this conversation later.”

“You are leaving for your honeymoon tomorrow. When will we talk? I am going back to New York before you come back, so when?” She is getting restless and excited.

“Email me, okay?” I pat her shoulder, she groans in frustration but leaves me alone.

This woman needs to chill, she is overworking herself these days.

One moment I am at my wedding party, in the blink of my eyes, I am driving the car towards my apartment with Inessa in the passenger seat.

I park the car on the driveway of my house, unfasten my seat belt, so does Inessa, and without a word I pull her towards me and kiss her. The kiss that we shared earlier in the church right after the announcement of the man and woman was a joke, a little touch of our lips, that thing awakened an animal inside me.

I keep that wild thing on check all the time from the party to my house, but it’s out, here in the car, rebellious, determined to eat out alive my young bride alive with no thought.

I kiss her lower lips, then her upper, and I suck her full lips—they are perfect for my mouth, ideal for me to consume, she moans, a small noise that reaches right at my dick, I am hard; I need to be inside her as soon as possible. I don’t think I can even have the strength to walk into the house, to my bed to have her. I will even die before I reach for the door. I have to be inside her.

I bite her lower lips, my tongue pushes between her lips to open her up, she does with noise; I install my tongue inside her, the moment I touch her tongue with mine, I forget everything that I have ever known. I cup her face with my hand, bringing her on my lap, her fragrance is teasing me, this lavender aroma of her is my favorite from now on.

We break our kiss to inhale some air in our lungs, we both reach our limit without the oxygen, Inessa falls on my chest, her breathing is as rough as mine. We both are panting, but I want to keep going on with my lips on her.

“I think we should go inside,” Inessa says, she is still on my chest, clinging to my torso as if I was her lifeline. I press a kiss on the top of her head, take her in my arms, get the hell out of this constricted place to my bed where I can scoff down my young wife alive.

It’s the 32nd floor, my penthouse, from now on in our house. I want Inessa to feel comfortable, safe in this house. Although I don’t really think about this place more than an assembly of bricks, I want her to love this place. I desperately want her to convert this into our home.

When I put her down on the couch, she is red as bright as a tomato. I chuckle seeing the color on her face, then I notice her a little bit more. She is rubbing her hands together; keeps her eyes on the floor; she is nervous. I can hear her unsettling thoughts without saying her a word.

The talkative woman I have known for a month is nowhere to find, the one who is in front of me is a different person.

I squat down in front of her, my two fingers under her chin, this makes her look right into my eyes, the green eyes befuddled me. This is not only about me or the lust that I am feeling or how hard my dick is right now.

This is about her too, how she wants everything.

“Do you want to shower first?” I caress her rosy cheek with my knuckles gently.

The nervousness, or should I say the fear, dwindles by an inch, and trust me, I am grateful for that. The last thing I want tonight is to scare her off, that will be the real tragedy as I am overly adamant to gobble up our wedding.

I press a kiss on her temple, take her hand, and lead her towards our bedroom. I open the door, tug her into the room, close the door. I lean against the door while Inessa looks around the room.

There is nothing much, only a king-size bed, nightstands beside the bed, a couch in the corner of the room, the major attraction of this room is the view. From the ceiling to the floor-to-floor glass window that stands right ahead of my bed, the whole of the Chicago night view is spectacular from my 32nd-floor house. This is the sole reason I bought this place at two first Place years ago.

“The bathroom is on the right,” I tell her.

She runs away as if it is her clue to save her life. I chuckle, seeing her this way. The chatty Inessa Simmons is afraid today, nope, not today, she is a McCoy, Inessa Brian McCoy, my wife.

A breeze of satisfaction blows me inside. I stand in front of the window, sigh, and wait for my wife to come out from her hiding cave so we can carry our marital work tonight. I am looking forward to the night, after all.