This Stream of Dreams (Mirella, Rashid and Adam Book 2) (5 page)

“Lili, you’re filled with anger because she has achieved success in her own right and is not living in the shadow of greatness as you have had to do all your life. First, your mother, then your husband.”

Lili glared at Rashid, but remained silent.

“Don’t you look at me that way, Lili. I repeat, first your mother, then your husband —”

Lili started to move away, but Rashid was too quick for her. She had one hand on the railing, and he pinned her to it by covering her hand with his own.

“And now, Mirella,” he went on.

Two people passed at that moment and congratulated Lili
on the most wonderful wedding they had ever attended. What made it worse for Lili was that they were the most select of the Wingfields, and she knew they meant what they said.

Rashid slowly released the pressure on her hand as the couple walked away, but Lili did not leave his side. While she was trying to compose herself a waiter approached with a tray full of Leonidas white chocolates and a huge box of Jamaican cigars, Rashid turned around, sat on the railing facing Lili, his back to the sea, selected a chocolate and ate it while he chose a cigar.

The sound of the ocean hitting the beach, and the cry of seagulls following a schooner passing offshore, mingled with the chatter of replete, beautiful people lazing about on the veranda, and made a strange and exotic picture. One that might have been painted with sound as well as pigment. The scene could have been a 1980’s Impressionist painting: a Manet, a Monet, a Cézanne, against a Norman Rockwell background painted by Andrew Wyeth. And, recognizing that aesthetic vision, Lili was calmed somewhat.

She watched Rashid in silence while a second waiter, having clipped the end of the cigar for Rashid, bent down to him and held a flame to it while Rashid slowly, carefully turned the cigar between his fingers, puffed on it, and lit it evenly. Rashid selected several more chocolates and placed them on a small linen napkin on top of the railing next to him.

“You are an evil and cruel man, Rashid,” said a now very controlled Lili.

“Yes, I readily admit that I can be both those things, and more often than not enjoy being evil and cruel. This, however, is not one of those times, Lili. I hope you understand how very serious I am when I tell you that what or how you think of me matters not in the least. Only one thing matters to me today, and that is Mirella, and the new life she began when I walked her down the aisle of that church this morning.

“If you give her one moment of anxiety, show her the slightest unkindness, withhold one fraction of the love she deserves from you, today or any other day for that matter, be warned: I will inflict such cruelties on you as you have never imagined.”

Lili was shocked by his words, the tone of his voice, the look in his eyes. It was as if Rashid had said to her, “I will
entrap you in all that is vile. Brand you with the evil side of my nature, which will destroy your life; and, if it comes to that, I will enjoy every moment of your demise.”

“You would do well to heed my advice, Lili. Put away your pathological self-centeredness, and allow yourself the privilege of loving and adoring Mirella in the same way you do yourself. You have a great deal to make up for, Lili, and your incentive can be that I have just made you no empty threat — simply a promise of what I will do to you if my advice is ignored.”

Rashid slowly slid off the veranda railing, picked Lili’s hand up in his, and noted with satisfaction that it had turned cold and was trembling. He bowed his head and placed his lips upon it in a kiss, then gently pulled Lili, who was rigid with fear, into his arms, and gave her a friendly, reassuring hug.

“Now you have an example of my kind of love,” he whispered in Lili’s ear, “and the lengths I will go to in order to protect what is mine. Make no mistake: Mirella may have married Adam, but she is mine.”

4

M
irella exercised her prerogative as a woman and arrived a little after the designated time for her first assignation with her husband. She felt quite ridiculous when she hesitated in front of his door, not knowing whether to knock on it or not.

It suddenly occurred to her that she had no idea of how a wife such as she approached her husband their first time alone together … or, indeed, on any other occasion.

“Ridiculous,” she said aloud, at the same time reaching up and touching the cluster of white moth orchids she had pinned in her raven black hair in place of her wedding hat. The seductive flowers seemed to reassure her, and she opened the door and walked in.

Adam was standing in front of the sitting room fireplace opening a chilled bottle of Dom Pérignon. He looked up at Mirella as she came through the door. She was still dressed in the superb white lace wedding gown and her splendid jewels.
The sensuous orchids in her hair were not wasted on him. They were a seductive sexual signal that made his bride even more ravishing to him.

He smiled at her as she walked toward him. That smile of his left her weak-kneed, as it always did when it was accompanied by an erotic twinkle in his eye for her. He poured the champagne into a pair of large Lalique crystal
coupes
mounted on tall slender stems frosted with a pattern of hollyhocks. The coupe was etched with a scene of a couple lying in a field of tall grass and wild flowers making love under the soft warm rain of summer. He handed one to her and they touched the rims together. Only the faint ring of the crystal broke the silence between them. They sipped while looking into each other’s eyes.

“Hello, my love,” Adam murmured.

“Hello, my heart,” she answered.

Simultaneously they placed their champagne coupes on the mantelpiece. Adam embraced Mirella. They kissed with passion, holding each other close. Their arousal was swift because this romantic liaison in the midst of their wedding celebrations ignited a sexual spark that flared into a sensual fire and engulfed them.

Reluctantly Adam released her, clapped his hands, and three violinists surprised Mirella by suddenly appearing from the bedroom to serenade her with a sweet, tender love song. Adam reached for their glasses of champagne and handed one to Mirella. They faced each other in the flower-filled room, its antique maple furniture covered in patterned glazed chintz, its Currier and Ives prints framed in bird’s-eye maple seeming to wink and smile at them as they sipped champagne.

Adam’s romantic gesture was perfect. With it, he blocked out the outside world and their new responsibilities as a husband and wife, and brought them back to their intimate selves. Almost before Mirella realized it, the music had stopped and the violinists were leaving, yet the atmosphere of promise spun in the air by their music lingered on.

Mirella thanked the men and watched Adam usher the musicians to the door. When she heard the click as he locked the door from the inside, her heart skipped a beat in anticipation.

Adam went directly to her. He took another sip of his wine, and touched the blossoms in her hair with extreme tenderness,
then kissed her fingers curled around the coupe. Mirella closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the touch of his lips upon her skin, wanting more, wanting to be taken by him, dissolved by him, drowned in their loving orgasms. She opened her eyes slowly and tried to bring herself under control.

“That was lovely, crazy romantic lovely,” she said. “Thank you,” and she kissed him, grazed his lips with hers, unable to take any more initiative with him for fear that his need for sexual release was not yet as great as hers. She continued somewhat nervously, “And these champagne glasses …”

“I had them made for this day, one of my wedding gifts to you, and to me too. They are in memory of that first visit of mine to your house in Manhattan and the fantasy it inspired that came true. The very first time I saw you was when I was standing on your doorstep in the rain. I thought to myself then, ‘The last thing I expected to meet this evening was a woman I wanted to fuck in the soft warm rain.’ I think I fell in love with you, or began to fall in love with you, at that moment, then and there. I have never stopped. When you served my drink in a glass like this one, my heart stood still. I shall never forget it.”

Adam took Mirella’s coupe from her hand and placed it along with his own on the table next to her. She had just enough time to say, “Oh, Adam, I love you, I love you in ways that are utterly new to me. This is like the first day of my life as a lover.”

And then she was in his arms and he was kissing her with a sweet tenderness that quickened to passion, and then, aroused by her sexual desire as well as his own, into something more wild and uncontrolled that erupted into more, much more. In between his kisses and caresses he whispered, in a voice unmistakably timbered with lust, “After so much anticipation, so much waiting for this moment when I would possess you completely and forever as my wife, my friend, all that is eros, as the other side of myself, it’s here. Only you have ever aroused both sexual desire and a real and deep love in me. Only with you am I overwhelmed with the power and delight of being both the dominant and the submissive man in love and in acts of sexual pain and pleasure.”

Adam’s desire to kiss, caress, and experience everything conceivable associated with sexual desire and its infinite
pleasures spurred him on to assist Mirella to undress. In the church, he had reveled in the beauty of Mirella dressed as his bride. Mirella in her wedding gown and veil had felt deeply the role of the bride and what it would mean to their lives, but now they both found the white lace gown a symbolic burden in the bedroom. Silently, happily, they allowed their lust to direct their disrobing.

Less than ten minutes after she had entered their suite Mirella lay naked, propped on one elbow, enmeshed in Adam’s heartfelt worship of her body with kisses and words of devotion and love.

Stripped of his wedding clothes he stood with one foot flat on the bed, his hands resting on his hips, his large thick phallus, massively beautiful and erect, dominating their deeper feelings for each other.

The rhythmic crash of the deep blue Atlantic waves on the beach below filled their ears. The salt air mingled with the scent of the flowers in the room and the raunchy perfume of lust. The natural aroma of pure, unadulterated sex subtly emanated from the pores of their skin. Soon it overwhelmed the other odors and captivated them further, sharpening the animal side of their sexual desire for each other.

Mirella’s heart quickened, beating so hard she could feel it pulsating with the crashing waves. Mesmerized by the sounds, she imagined the crest of each wave as it broke and rushed across the beach in a torrent of white foam. And she took pleasure in Adam hovering over her in all his rampant maleness, the exquisite sensations of her own body inflamed by his hands, his mouth, his tongue.

Again and again she heard the waves hit the beach, and her one thought was of the rich delectable foam of Adam’s orgasms breaking over her. She longed to feel all that force of life rushing down over her eyes, her lips, her breasts, and to see her erect nipples, flushed into painful sensitivity by the passion of his sucking lips, glisten with his come. She imagined herself glazed with his sperm from head to toe, and still she wanted more: the thrust behind
his
waves,
his
orgasms. She yearned to experience
his
need to take her, to fill her fully with himself. She longed to be the recipient of his desire to vanquish her, by probing her womb with his phallus again and again, and to have him explode inside her with a
burst of his seed that she could draw up into the core of her being.

Mirella put the back of her hand to her lips, sucked the flesh into her mouth and bit hard, in the hope of holding back a cry for Adam to take her, fuck her into oblivion, wrench from her huge powerful orgasms to meet his own and to match the ocean waves, and then to bring her back into the world again with tender care and love.

But her need was too great, and tears of passion and love filled her eyes for the man she had just married, Adam, who always made her submission to him and to eros such a joy. She caught her breath, and a short quick sob escaped from her, behind the hand she clenched between her teeth. Slipping sensually and slowly onto her back, she drew her legs up and voluptuously, languidly spread them open, never taking her eyes from Adam’s.

“How magnificent, how divine you are, my love,” said Adam, as he placed himself on his knees between her legs and sat back on his haunches and stroked the inside of her thighs.

Adam was clearly in awe of Mirella, her sensuality, the way she mobilized all her senses. He watched her intently, straining to catch every sound, scent, and sight. He was all-seeing, all-hearing, wanting to miss nothing, wanting to take all of her into himself.

Because physically she had exposed herself totally to him, he knew that for the moment she had turned herself off mentally and emotionally, baring her body and her soul. Because of her and the way she was now before him, he felt himself stepping quickly out of his own defenses and becoming vulnerable, felt himself give way to join her in that place she inhabited.

He stopped stroking Mirella, flattering her. Instead of pleading with her, he unexpectedly whispered commands, softly yet most firmly and authoritatively: how he wanted her to fondle herself for him, play with her breasts, suck on her own nipples, spread open her vaginal lips and play with her clitoris. She shivered with delight at her own orgasms and stroked his lips and tongue with her fingers covered with the sexual honey of her cunt. He never touched her while making his demands.

Mirella obeyed his every command because obeying Adam never failed to arouse her beyond all dreams, all fantasies.

Adam quite suddenly could not bear waiting any longer, and with passionate sexual violence he charged mightily with thrust after thrust into Mirella, at the same time lying on top of her and kissing her deeply. Lips and tongues, cunt and cock working together in a frenzy of lust.

It was what Mirella wanted: to be weighed down by Adam’s body. To bear the heaviest burden simultaneously with one of life’s most intense fulfillments. It was as if the weight of Adam upon her brought them, and their remarkable love and lust for each other, closer to the earth, made their mutual ecstasy more real and truthful.

Again and again Adam beat his cock deeply into Mirella. Her cries of acute pleasure, and the sometimes exquisite pain that can accompany erotic extremes, only extended his own carnal bliss and drove him on to lick, suck, fuck, and devour her into himself. Pulsing through their bodies was pleasure beyond thoughts and manipulations. Adam and Mirella’s orgasms were pure and perfect, on this their wedding day. It was a powerful physical pleasure that gave them a glimpse of infinity.

It was dusk. A hot red sun, dulled by a curtain of heavy mist hovering several feet above the ocean, cast a milky gray aura tinged with pink all around Oceanside. Adam watched the waves, seductive and mysterious in the eerie light, gather momentum and roll heavily onto the shore. The ocean appeared to be more calm now than it had been earlier in the afternoon when he and Mirella had made love together.

The rich romantic music of the sea filled his ears and his heart, and he allowed the dramatic hour of dusk, and the fading of his wedding day, to wrap itself around him like a seductive cape. Standing naked in the twilight at the doorway of the balcony he was warmed by memories of his wedding to Mirella, the most important day of his life. He looked away from the ocean to his wife lying naked in the shadows fast asleep, and he covered his face with his hands and wept. Tears streamed down his face and neck. He swallowed his sobs, and shuddered, so great and deep was the emotion that possessed him.

It was the closeness, the oneness he had with Mirella that was causing him all his tears of emotion. He knew that. He had always known that being too close to another human
being can cause complications. That feelings, especially messy feelings that one would rather not deal with, were always brought to the surface when one accepted such closeness as his to Mirella.

The tears he shed were not for himself alone but for Mirella as well. They were far from tears of despair. Tears rather of joy, for being able to give himself up so totally to another human being, his wife, and not hate her because she possessed him, and knew him so intimately. It meant that he loved himself and could face himself as much as he could love and face her. How many men were as lucky as he?

Adam lowered his hands from his face and, wiping his tears away, stepped out onto the balcony. He liked the feel of the cool evening air against his nakedness. He ran his hands over his arms and across his chest, his hips, his stomach, as if he were washing himself with it. With one hand he lifted his flaccid phallus and gave that, too, to the evening breeze. He held it, cupped his testes in his other hand, felt the weight of them, and liked, as he always did, his masculinity, the sheer size and power of it. He smiled to himself. It was a smile not of cheap male vanity but one of appreciation of being a man, and most especially of being his own man. He bent down and cleansed his thighs and legs, in between his toes, then reached around to his back and his tight, muscled bottom, and completed his strange, almost ritualistic cleansing.

Adam watched dusk turning to nightfall, the pink pearly gray atmosphere changing to the frosted navy blue of evening. The mist being pushed inland by billowing puffs of thick fog rolled over the waves and muffled their sound. He walked quietly back into the darkened bedroom and found a cigar and his Zippo lighter. After going to the bed where Mirella lay still sleeping, a tender smile on her face which he could not see but sense in the darkness, he bent down and kissed her ever so lightly on the lips and one exposed pretty breast. He walked back to the balcony door, leaned against the jamb, and, after wetting his lips with his tongue, placed the large Havana cigar between them. Slowly, meticulously, he rolled it between his fingers, then lighted it evenly. He was the happiest of men.