Pearl (The Pearl Series) (21 page)

“Jesus Christ, Pearl,” I groaned as I dragged myself off her; loath to break up yet another incredible session of lovemaking. Fucking? Lovemaking? Both words described what we did best. Really, sex was designed for us. Us together, anyway. With Pearl it was always delicious. Intense. Physically the best I’d ever had. Yes, and that even included Hélène.

I was still hard. “I could go on doing this all day long,” I said, planting a kiss on her lips and letting my eyes celebrate her lithe, curvaceous body, still slightly tanned from summer. She moaned sleepily and took in a long, satisfied breath, her orgasm still lingering.

But I had to catch a plane to London and I was already late, so I tore myself away from her side and went to have a shower. I’d hoped that Pearl would come with me to London, show her the sights, eat in my favorite restaurants. I wished that she could just generally hang out with me on business trips, but she was a career girl and she had her own plans, her own agenda. The fact that Hookedup Enterprises was a toddler learning to walk made Pearl relentlessly busy.

Her brother Anthony was coming to stay for a few nights so I was happy, in that respect, to leave them to their family reunion.

When I sauntered back into the room and saw her lying on the bed like a classical French painter’s odalisque, I stood still and absorbed my view. I never tired of observing Pearl. She had the sort of beauty that was difficult to put into words. Some women can look hard, chiseled, with a look of ambition cut into their jawbone. Pearl’s face struck me as always being so gentle, even though defined. Her nose neat and straight, her cheekbones sweeping up into her perfectly shaped head which was crowned with a thick mane of blonde hair, cut in wavy layers. But it was her eyes that had me mesmerized. Clear and blue, yet the blue would change from a deep ultramarine that almost looked black sometimes, to an almost translucent sky color. Her eyes spoke of innocence and vulnerability: the eyes of a child.

“It’s not too late to change your mind, you know. About coming to London with me,” I cajoled. She was half asleep. I sat on the edge of the bed and whispered a kiss on her shoulder.

Pearl’s eyelids fluttered and I stroked the length of her smooth back, tracing the curve down into her dip and up again over her peachy round buttocks. I could have stared at that ass all day long.

She groaned languidly and parted her legs a touch. Her eyes flicked open and she smiled lazily. Just touching her soft, silky skin and looking at her beautiful face got me hard again. I wanted to fuck her endlessly. Over and over. I leaned down to kiss her, my tongue parting her full lips, and she responded as her tongue met mine. Slowly, teasingly. I groaned into her mouth—an erotic sound of carnal need vibrated through me. I held her jaw with my hands and deepened the kiss, hungry for more, waiting for her to plead for me to ravage her again. Damn that plane, I was feeling uncontrollably horny. Insatiable. I couldn’t get enough of her and felt edgy at the thought of leaving her for just a couple of days. We needed the physical closeness, the frenzied power of orgasms that always hit us simultaneously, that united us.

My eyes scanned down to her hand, flopped by her side, and I took it, feeling her engagement ring between my fingers, mollified that if other men looked at her, at least they’d know she belonged to someone else.
To me
.

“You’d better go or you’ll miss your plane,” she told me, and I flinched.

“Why are you tormenting me like this? You know I don’t like us being apart?”

“I can’t just leave Anthony alone,” she murmured sleepily.

“Why not? He wouldn’t care; he’d have the run of the place, get the staff darting around for him—he’d love it. I don’t know why you’re going so out of your way for him. He treats you like…” I trailed off—no need, I decided, to point out her brother’s failings.

“He’s been making more effort lately. That’s why he’s coming to visit. Anyway, there’s another reason I can’t go to London: I’ve got that important meeting with Samuel Myers, you know.”

“Sam Myers…the big, fat, Hollywood fish who smokes too many Cuban cigars and calls everyone honey.”

Pearl’s lips curved into a smile. “I know, he’s like a walking cliché from some bad B movie. I want to pitch my buddy movie to him. But I don’t want male leads. I want to see a
woman
playing at least one of those parts, maybe both, if I can swing it. I’m so fed up of seeing actresses playing just the love interest.”

I squeezed her hand. “Well let’s hope he goes for it. I’m proud of you, Pearl, I really am. You’re doing a great job of getting HookedUp Enterprises on its feet.”

My eyes shifted back to the curves of my fiancée’s divine body. I wanted to suggest that another great project would be for her to do a workout video for women over the age of thirty-five; show them that females didn’t have to be in their twenties to be in great shape. With Pearl, herself, as the exercise guru—she was a good model for beauty and health. But I never mentioned age to Pearl because I knew that was a soft spot for her. I didn’t want to draw attention to the fifteen-year age gap between us, mainly because I never even thought about it myself. Except on occasions like this, when she blew me away with how young she looked, and it annoyed me that people pigeonholed anybody by a number.

She took my hand and kissed it. Soon, I thought, I’d be wearing a wedding ring there. “You’ll be late,” she warned me again.

“Such a cool customer, aren’t you? Sending me off like this when all I want to do is get right back into bed with you.” I ran the top of my finger around the dimples in the small of her back again, tracing it over the mound of her behind and into the luscious, moist valley of her wet folds—a place where I’d spent so many wonderful hours of ecstasy and where I intended to visit for the rest of my life.

“What I like, though,” I murmured, my cock rock-hard again, “is when the ice-princess part of you melts.” And I whispered in her ear, my fingers deep inside her, “when I fuck the cool-customer nonsense out of you and you lose all self-control. When you whimper and beg me, and scream my name when you come.” I eased my fingers out of her again. Let her feel what she’d be missing—have her longing for my return. “Have fun in your meeting, chérie. I’ll be keeping tabs on you—just in case you get tempted by sexy Sam.”

She laughed and pushed me off the bed. I walked over to my closet and got dressed, slinging on a T-shirt and jeans—I was really late—and when I turned around, Rex had somehow managed to sneak his way onto the bed. Pearl and I had nicknamed him her ‘French lover.’ I knew he’d be trying to usurp my place when I was gone.

I said goodbye to the pair of them and felt a rush of inexplicable adrenaline coil through my stomach. Leaving my little family behind made me feel nauseous, partly because when I got to London I knew who was waiting for me: Laura.

Like tenacious ivy entwined about an oak tree, Laura just couldn’t let me go.

17

I
couldn’t stop thinking about Pearl. Her image, plus the jet’s rumbling and vibrations on the runway before takeoff, were making me fucking horny. I locked the door of my cabin, my cock aching for an orgasm—Pearl fresh in my mind like a haunting painting or photograph that has impacted your soul. It reminded me of my teenage years when I had sex on the brain constantly. That’s what Pearl was doing to me.

I undid my jeans and my cock sprang up.
Wait,
I thought, getting my iPhone out of my pocket.
I’ll share this with her—make sure she thinks about me while I’m gone. She and I are in this together.

I remembered entering her from behind, just that morning, fisting her hair to hold her where I wanted her, her soaked core welcoming me as I crammed her full with my thick, heated length, unable to control myself, fucking her probably too hard for her tight, hot kernel. But she still crumbled beneath me, her pussy clenching in a shuddering climax as she dug her nails into the mattress, pushing her butt closer against me….always closer. Both of us craved that intense proximity.

I lay back on the bed in my cabin and put my phone on record mode, holding it close to my huge erection. Then I panned up to my face so she could see my lustful expression. This wasn’t going to be live; I’d send it to her when I landed—a little porn movie for her own pleasure.
A keepsake,
for when we’re old, doddery and gray and I won’t be able to get it up any more.

“I’m thinking of you, chérie,” I began, my hand clamped around my stiff cock, “—I should have abducted you and brought you with me.” I licked my lips, thinking of her mouth sucking me, flicking her teasing tongue over the broad head of my crest, making me come. “I’ve got your hot, wet, pearlette in my mind’s eye, Pearl, and the expression on your beautiful face when you come for me. Your hard, peaked nipples when I suck them, when I lick you, when I stretch you open and fuck you really hard.”

I was moving my hand up and down, tight on my massive erection, jerking it hastily and remembering how, just the day before, I’d come in her mouth, fucking it slowly, and how incredible it felt.

“When I get home, baby, I’m going to tease you with my cock, bend you over and flutter my tongue against your clit. Just the tip of my tongue. You’ll be begging me for more and I’ll make you wait till you’re moaning with anticipation.”

What I was doing in that moment felt good but nothing compared to the real thing. I imagined Pearl when she received this little film, would be sitting in her office chair, legs wide open, her fingers inside herself, her other hand massaging her clit, and how I wish I could be there to enter her slowly, the head of my thick cock pushing into her just an inch, then withdrawing and teasing her sensitized cleft, then ramming my whole length into her wet warmth, fucking her hard, then tantalizing her clit again. Over and over, I’d do this, until she was begging for me to fuck her, screaming for me, crying out for her release.

My cock twitched, its broad crown wet with lust. “I’m going to fuck your clit, Pearl, with the tip of my cock, rim it around and around and then cram you full, baby. I’ll slip my way in, just an inch, no more. Then thrust it all the way, hard, and then pull almost out. Then tease you again, just a centimeter inside. You won’t know when I’m going to slam you. Maybe I’ll pump you good and hard, maybe I won’t. You’ll be screaming for me to fuck you.”

My pulse quickened and my breath came heavily—I could feel my impending orgasm about to explode. My fingers squeezed like a vice around the wide crest of my cock and then all the way down to its thick root. “All I can think about is fucking you. I. Love. Fucking. You. Pearl. I love fucking you hard, fucking, you, really slow.”

Semen spurted out in a hot rush as the image of Pearl’s tits and ass brought harmonies, musical notes of bliss swirling about my brain in an abstract pattern. Like the crescendo of a beautiful aria. Her tits, ass, pussy, nipples, mouth, all one giant billboard in my head. A knock on my cabin door jerked my climax into a tsunami of a wave, coursing through me, and flooding over in abandon.

“I’m coming,” I shouted out.
And how.

The flight attendant said, “Sir, I need you to buckle-up for takeoff.”

I was taking off, all right. Really taking off. “Coming,” I said again and grinned at the irony of my words.

When I exited my cabin, I nearly had a heart attack. The person sitting right there in my line of vision, neatly and serenely in her seat, was none other than Indira bloody Kapoor, herself. She looked up from her book and said calmly, “Alexandre, how wonderful to see you.”

I gazed at her, speechless.
What the fuck was she doing on this plane?
She was wearing a sky-blue sari, draped elegantly about one shoulder and her hair was braided. I had to admit, she looked great. No wonder she was such a big movie star.

“Indira. What a surprise.” I walked over, bent down to kiss her on the cheek. “What brings you here on this very
private
plane?”

“I’m like you, Alexandre; I like to hitch-hike on G-5s. So much global warming—always good to spread the wealth a bit, you know, not be too greedy. You were flying to London so I thought I’d hop aboard.”