11
Nikko
I stood at the front of the crowd of people who filled the lawn. Flowers had been sprinkled across the perfectly green, rolling grasses by the enthusiastic flower girls who scurried about. Being that I lacked any family with small daughters, they were, naturally, the nieces of the company’s owner. The whole marriage was, after all, for the papers, for show. At least, that was what I had to keep reminding myself as butterflies threatened to overwhelm my stomach. I shouldn’t have been nervous; there was no reason to be nervous. It wasn’t a marriage based on love. It was a business contract, plain and simple. No matter how madly and deeply I had fallen for the stunning and quirky woman with as much sexiness as she had intellect, Molly did not love me. It was obvious. I had realized how shallow her feelings were yesterday, when she had been so quick to agree upon the marriage. I swallowed and forced my trademark smile across my face as the photographers from every major international paper scurried past, forcing flashes into my eyes.
This is about success, I thought. This is about security. Both of which, when it comes to women, are a lot more reliable than love.
Just then the music swelled, and suddenly, there she was; walking down the makeshift aisle and towards me. Her feet wore pointed white slippers (no heels, because she was still Molly) and tread softly, so elegantly, upon the carpet of soft white flower petals. Her body was impossibly perfect, hugged by lace and silk that did not reveal, but did suggest. Writhing lines of white lace flowers curled around her nipples and flowing fabric matched the gentle swaying of her ass. Seeing Molly in this dress did so much more for every single one of my senses than any set of lingerie ever would be able to do. I cleared my throat and shoved my hands down into my pockets. I noticed that Molly was blushing from behind the veil that cascaded down her pale face. I saw her bite at her lips and I felt overwhelmed with a rush of guilt.
Is it that awful, to her? The idea of marrying me? I tried not to let my thoughts discourage my disposition. After all, there were cameras to impress.
Molly took the final velvety steps down the aisle and came to rest by my side. She smelled of lilacs and roses and I felt my heart’s pace begin to quicken as her fingers knit their way around my own. I tried to listen to the words the priest spoke, but I was getting far too entangled in the shapes the lace was making across Molly’s curvy breasts, her tiny waist. I was enthralled by the veil shimmering so teasingly across her chocolate eyes and pale pink lips.
“You may now kiss the bride.”
I startled as the words pierced my ears, and simply stood there for a moment, completely still and unsure of myself. Was this actually happening? Was I actually getting married to this stunning woman? Molly took the initiative, sweeping the veil back from her eyes in a way that was both demure and dramatic. She wrapped her lacy arms around me and kissed me passionately, sending the crowd roaring with glee. The press was appeased, and as our lips pressed against each other, I squeezed her in my arms and whispered into her ear.
“Thank you for that,” I breathed as she kissed lightly at my cheeks, my lips.
“Of course,” she replied simply. “I couldn’t let you ruin my wedding day, now could I?”
I smiled back at her, trying to read what feelings she might be concealing behind those milky eyes. But of course, as usual, I could not. Molly was beautifully withdrawn, her true thoughts as accessible as a princess locked away in a high tower.
The ceremony transpired as ceremonies do: long and winding with many drinks and forced laughter. The clapping sounds of sweaty palms meeting together in handshakes were more for show than for camaraderie. Most of the people who filled the halls and danced until the day turned into a new one were people I had never met. They were the friends and family members of my boss, the company’s owner or the investors. It seemed as if he had taken my wedding as a chance to throw a massive, expensive, company party. As I danced with Molly, I couldn’t help but feel annoyed at this.
“What is it?” Molly asked as I left the dance floor.
It was just after four am, and the party was finally dying out. The last guests were stumbling out the door, clutching at their party favors.
“It’s nothing,” I said, brushing a hand over my tired face. My cheeks hurt from all the forced smiling I had endured throughout the day.
“No, it’s definitely something,” Molly insisted, and she swept her lacy dress around me and gripped my shoulders. She looked me in the eyes. “Hey, Nikko? Even though it’s an… arrangement… I’m your wife now. So you should probably allow yourself to be open with me. At least to some degree.”
I stared back into Molly’s eyes for a moment and felt myself crumble. It was hopeless to try and conceal things from those perfectly pretty doe eyes. And besides, having someone trusted to confide in was definitely something that my life desperately needed.
“Well, it’s just this,” I said, taking a breath and gesturing around the room. “My boss started this whole thing in motion because he needs me to look a certain way. He orchestrated this part of my life, you see?” Molly watched me intently, nodding her head slightly. “And then, okay, I oblige him, I get married… and he has to make it all about him. I mean all of this; it’s just all about him. It’s just some giant game that he makes the rules for, and then he calls the shots for.”
“And you are the key player who has signed up to play the game,” Molly retorted coolly. I looked at her, caught off guard by her words. “Don’t act like some naive intern, Nikko, because you’re not. Not one little bit. You chose this. You knew full well, when you began climbing the ladder to the top rung of CEO, what you were getting yourself into. And what were you getting yourself into? A lot. A lot of money, a lot of sex, a lot of benefits, a lot of abilities and power… and also, a lot of bullshit. But you knew that. So do not stand there now and complain when you have signed the papers to your ownership of all this,” Molly said, raising her arms to gesture at the enormity of the mansion that stretched around us.
I sighed and nodded my head. I knew she was right. I reached out a hand and fondly ran my fingers down the soft peachy skin of her cheek.
“You really are something lovely,” I heard myself saying, and then I stopped.
I pulled my fingers away and shoved my hands into my pockets and swallowed, looking away. Molly took a step forward. She reached out and fished my hand out of my pocket and held it in her own.
“You obliged him,” she said, looking at me.
I turned back to face her.
“What?” I asked, confused.
“You said,” Molly replied, her honey brown eyes pouring into my face. “You said you married me to oblige your boss. Is that the only reason?”
I stared back at Molly, my heartbeat quickening, my fingers trembling between hers. I opened my mouth then slapped it closed again. What was she looking for? Was this some sort of a test? What did she want me to say? She knew the agreement we had made.
“I… Molly, you know very well…”
But before I could attempt to force out a sentence, Molly’s finger was pressing against my lips.
“I know full well that we are about to have the best sex any two people have ever had. You did, after all, promise me husband and wife with benefits,” she whispered, and her eyes glittered devilishly.
I felt my blood surge downwards towards my cock, and I laughed out loud, completely caught off guard by her turn of phrase.
“Well then,” I said, squeezing her fingers now. “Shall we?”
And with that, I scooped her up in my arms and carried her across the emptied dance floor and up the stairs to the wedding bed.