Refracted Crystal: Diamonds and Desire

by M. J. Lawless

  “Are you ashamed of me, then?” she had asked, teasingly.

  He shook his head and looked at her, his hazel eyes shining and dragging her towards him with invisible bonds.

  They climbed the magnificent staircase until they came to the Mayor’s Balcony on the fourth floor. Beside large, semi-circular windows that poured in clean, white light, the carved arches of the ceiling above them curved up to meet the roof of the rotunda. Ornate urns marked the edge of the marble parapet, and as Kris and Daniel crossed the gleaming floor with their three guests behind them, an official waiting for them at the far end. She was a stolid black woman, dressed herself in a suit and smiling at the two of them as they approached.

  The ceremony itself was simple and civil. Kris had searched her soul about this: deep inside, she thought of her father and the strong heartstrings that tied her to her family’s Catholicism. Yet her father was no more, and her family so distant from her now that those ties had loosened more than she could ever have imagined. Daniel himself was clearly agnostic, neither insulting nor overly concerned to whatever religious urges she may occasionally have felt. While it was clear that he would have done anything she requested in this matter, in the end she did not desire their marriage to begin with an act of hypocrisy.

  As the official spoke to them her smile was broad and generous. Her voice was calm and assured, and Kris felt her heart swelling as the words floated over her.

  “We are gathered today here in the presence of family and friends for the purpose of uniting in marriage Daniel Stone and Kristina Avelar, and to share in the joy of this memorable occasion.”

  Kris was almost shy as she glanced across at Daniel, her eyes travelling up his broad chest to his solemn face. As his eyes moved from the official to Kris, so a smile dawned upon his lips.

  “Marriage symbolises the intimate sharing of two lives. It is the development of a balanced relationship that is continually growing and changing...”

  Around them, the bright light of the Californian summer shone through the windows, forming a halo around Kris’s body, sheathed as it was in white. With one hand, she clasped Daniel’s.

  “No other human ties are more tender and no other vows more important than those you now assume...”

  And here they stood now, Daniel so serious and yet so kindly as he gazed at her.

  “Daniel, do you take this person, Kristina, to be your lawful wedded spouse? Do you promise to love and to comfort her and keep her in sickness and in health, in prosperity and adversity, and forsaking all others, be faithful to her?”

  His voice was deep and calm, but Kris caught in it the slightest tremor of emotion as he answered: “I do.” When Kris replied to the same question, she was barely able to contain herself, her whole body rising up into the bow of the ceiling that arched above them.

  Now, Andrew and Anne stood in to hand them their wedding rings, simple bands of gold. Daniel slid hers upon her finger so that it rested above the delicate diamond engagement ring that he had bought for her, and after he kissed her she turned to see Anne almost fit to burst into tears. Andrew himself was clearly having some difficulty controlling his emotion and radiated joy. Only Miss Christiansen appeared fully composed, nodding with quiet satisfaction towards the happy pair as they were pronounced man and wife and embraced each other in their first, wedded kiss.

  A photographer had been hired to capture the event, and as they went to the stairs in front of City Hall he was waiting patiently by his tripod, asking them to pose and offering suitable blandishments while he snapped away.

  Beside her, Kris felt Daniel suddenly become tense and, looking up at his face, observed him frowning. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure,” he replied quietly. “Forgive me, but we may have to cut this part of the celebration short.”

  Following the direction of his gaze, she saw a trio of people running towards the building, one of them carrying a substantial TV camera and the woman at the head clutching onto a microphone.

  “Come on, let’s go,” Daniel growled.

  Agreeing with him, Kris stumbled along as best she could in her high heels while Anne, Andrew and the photographer looked at them in confusion. Elaine Christiansen, however, gave a resigned sigh as she saw the TV crew moving towards them and began to follow immediately.

  “Mister Stone, Mister Stone!” The woman was calling out to Daniel and he, unable to move away too quickly without risk of causing Kris to fall, was forced to turn and face the crew.

  “Can we ask a few questions?” the woman asked. She was bright and bold, Kris’s age or a little younger, and with a sleek, professional attitude that was eager for recognition.

  “I don’t think so,” Daniel replied awkwardly.

  “We’re reporting for SFN, and understand that you might be in the city for important business,” the woman continued, ignoring his uncooperative attitude.

  “As you can see, this is a very important day for the bride and groom.” It was Elaine speaking now, pushing her way in front of him and addressing the reporter with a severe expression on her face. This did, indeed, cause the woman to quail for a moment, but still she persevered.

  “Do you have any comments to make about the failed leverage bid on new Stone Enterprise acquisitions, and what this means for the future of the company?”

  Daniel clearly scowled now, taking Kris up in his arm a little more roughly than he intended and hastening her along towards the cars which now waited for them. “I have no comment to make at this time,” he told them.

  “What was that about?” Kris asked him in the car after he had bundled her in, sitting down heavily beside her.

  “Nothing. Who knows?” he replied, suddenly looking tired and rubbing his face with his hands. “I’m sorry about that. Christ! Can’t I have a day away from fucking work?” When he removed his hand, his face was reddening with anger, his scars pale against his darkening skin. Then he leaned back. “I’m sorry,” he said in a quieter voice. “As you have gathered, not everything is hunky-dory in the world of Stone Enterprises, but I just wish, for one day—this day most of all—everyone else would fuck off and leave us alone.”

  Kris placed her head against his shoulder and gripped his arm, soothing and consoling him as they drove back to the Fairmont Hotel.

  It was much later when the two of them returned at last to their own suite. For several hours they had spent their time with their visitors, Anne and Andrew clearly overawed by everything that was happening to them on this visit, Elaine Christiansen emanating satisfaction at the marriage of the happy couple. And happy they were. Daniel’s anger at the incident outside the hall had passed fairly quickly, and he and Kris celebrated their wedding in style.

  As they came to the door of their suite and he unlocked it, Kris still dressed in her simple white dress, Daniel in his suit, his tie dangling on either side of his unbuttoned collar, he paused. “There’s a certain tradition involved at this point, I think.”

  She squealed with delight as he scooped her up into his arms, carrying her easily as he kicked open the door. She clung onto him with her arms around his neck, her legs wriggling back and forth and laughing all the way as he took her through to the bedroom and dropped her on the large, inviting bed. Dropping down almost on top of her, letting his weight fall onto his arms so that his face hovered a few inches above hers, he dipped his lips down towards her, letting her rise up to kiss him again and again, she drinking him in, adoring his scent and taste.

  “I want you,” he whispered in her ear. “You don’t know how much I fucking want you, here, now.”

  “Then take me,” she said, her dark eyes glittering as she looked up at him.

  Drawing backwards, his body arching slightly as he stood, he towered above her for a few moments, looking down. His face was in shadow in this position, his smile ambiguous, his eyes catching reflected light. Seeing him this way—an almost demonic expression on his face—made Kris tremble as she lay there, utterly def
enceless. Her sex which had already begun to flower in anticipation became even wetter, its moisture tricking along her thighs beneath her dress.

  Still almost glowering, utterly self-confident in his mastery over her, Daniel removed his jacket, his shirt covered biceps bulging as he pulled them from the sleeves of his jacket. He began to remove his tie but Kris lifted her hand, making him pause.

  “Keep it on,” she said. “We can find some use for that.”

  This made him laugh, breaking the tension slightly, and he began to undo his trousers more quickly now, slipping off his shoes as well. When he was naked from the waist down, his shirt open to reveal glimpses of his firm chest and abdomen, Kris groaned and slid down the bed, coming to rest on the floor, her legs and feet sticking out beneath her at a slightly awkward angle.

  He was so big, she thought to herself. So fucking big. He always was, and always for her, but it never ceased to amaze her. She had been here so many times before, but this was so different: now he was her husband. Her heart felt a surge as she thought this, and again she flowered deep within her, almost climaxing at the very notion.

  Daniel said nothing as she sat on the floor, the edge of the bed pressed against her back. His face was darker in this posture, shadows crossing the planes of his cheeks and the orbits of his eyes. His pectoral muscles were rising and falling slightly, and she could hear his breath becoming slightly hoarse with lust. That he was filled with lust was quite clear from his erection, which was swollen and raw in front of him.

  She reached up, slowly, with her fingers, brushing the tip of him and gently circling him. He was hot and stiff and hard, a pulse of burning blood in her palm. Her own breathing became more erratic now, and she shifted her position, rising up onto her knees a little, bringing her mouth closer to him. The scent of him, his pheromones and manliness, filled her nostrils, causing them to flare, and she felt an intensity, an excitement, that surprised her. How many times had she taken him? How many times had he filled her so completely that she thought she would die. And yet, here, now, she felt almost virginal—beginning again, an act of renewal so complete that nothing else mattered in the whole world.

  As her lips parted and she began to sink down onto his shaft, his hands came up to the side of her head and touched her gently, holding the fronds of her hair. “Yes,” he whispered, his voice coarse. “Yes! Do it.”

  She pushed herself down, taking him into her throat. Her lips were stretched now, and saliva was beginning to trickle from her lower mouth, coating him, making him wet. She herself was beginning to flood, her pleasure building up so much that, even though she was not touching herself, she was beginning to experience a mild orgasm herself.

  Squeezing him with her fist, she rapidly moved her hand up and down his magnificence—a cock even more wonderful now that it was hers, completely and utterly. Possession made her lustier, more demanding, and she began to make whimpering, gagging noises as she pushed herself harder than they had gone for a very long time. An image flashed into her mind, almost long lost: Ernst’s The Robing of the Bride. The young girl, her pale flesh resplendent against the luxurious robe of feathers, attendants threatening and voluptuous, she regal amongst them all.

  After a while of giving himself to her oral pleasures he lifted her up gently by the arms. She stood there for a moment, feeling the heat of his body as he reached around her, unzipped her dress at the back. For a few seconds, they stood there, looking at each other, the air full and thick between them, his head bowed down, hers uplifted, her neck arched, proud and submissive.

  Without warning, he bunched up the fabric of her dress in his hands and tore, two sudden motions to either side of her body. She heard the fabric rip, a scorching sound in the silence that had built up as they stared at each other, and the motion made her climax then. A moan escaped her lips as she felt herself flooding, the dress falling away past her stockinged thighs.

  She did not move now, her flesh trembling, waiting for his touch. He unclasped her bra, letting it fall alongside the discarded dress. Her breasts shook as he bent his head to kiss them, his tongue flicking along her nipples, and her camisole knickers were soaking now. She had not even touched herself yet but she had climaxed twice simply at the thought of what he would do to her. Christ! she thought in a moment of almost delicious panic. What the hell is going to happen when he actually enters me? Again, a gasping moan escaped her as he bit her left breast tenderly, one hand reaching down into her underwear, feeling along her wet slit, glorying in the flood of her desires.

  At last he stood up. Her knees were trembling again, her whole body shaking as his head rose above her. She was bare from the waist up, he naked from the waist down, and his length stretched between them, brushing against her belly as it bobbed up and down with each pulse, hot blood filling it. With an evil smile that only increased her palpitations, he lifted up one hand slowly to his shoulder, catching hold of one end of his tie and dragging it down in a determined gesture.

  “Hold out your hands,” he said, very quietly.

  She did as she was told, eagerly stretching her hands upwards in an attitude of prayer and supplication, wrists touching as he took one step back.

  His movements were delicate, deliberate. He wrapped the tie around her wrists and between her hands, over and under, binding them together and expertly fixing them in a knot so that she would not be able to move them apart. He tugged on them and kissed her, dragging her towards him so that she could not resist.

  Biting her neck, her ears, her shoulders, sweet flares of tenderness against her skin, he then brought his face back up in front of hers. His smile was so demonic that she thought she was about to faint.

  That was the moment that, with the sweetest of kisses, he bent slightly, forcing his knee between her legs, kicking them apart with a gentle motion while, with his strong hands, he gave the tenderest push against her shoulders so that she fell backwards against the soft, enveloping folds of the bridal bed.

  Chapter Eight

  Anne and Andrew remained in San Francisco for two more days, although Kris was a little guilty that she saw less of them than she felt she should have. Not that Anne was particularly surprised. “I think Daniel was being incredibly generous,” she told her as they shared a drink in one of the hotel bars, just the two of them together. “I can’t think of many men who would invite someone else on their honeymoon—particularly as two weeks ago he didn’t know Andrew or me at all.”

  Kris smiled at this. “That was... a surprise.” She paused for a moment. “I think he believes I’ve been spending too much time on my own, recently—you know, preparing for the exhibition.”

  “A great success, so I hear. Daniel told me just before dinner last night that most of your paintings have already sold.”

  “Ah,” Kris waved her hand. “I’m pretty sure Daniel arranged that with his business associates.” Felix Coltraine’s final harsh words to her echoed through her brain: charity case.

  Anne slapped her firmly but gently on her arm. “Stop that! Stop it now, young lady.” Her friend’s eyes were bright and her face sympathetic as Anne tilted her head slightly to one side. “You were always good, Kris. Always. You could just never see it.”

  Kris blushed at this and began to make some other self-deprecating remark, but Anne interrupted her before she could speak.

  “He’s good for you. And, yes, I know how easy that is to say. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this before—I mean, not ever.”

  “Oh, and how do I look?”

  Anne paused for a second, her eyes flickering towards the wide windows of the bar that looked across the grounds around the hotel and then out across the city. She returned her gaze back to Kris and smiled. “Radiant.”

  “Radiant?”

  “Yeah.” Her smile became a smirk now as she sipped her drink, but she refused to offer any more information. “You know,” she said at last, placing her glass on the table, “I didn’t think I’d like him.”

&nbs
p; “Who, Daniel?”

  Anne nodded. “I mean, I was happy for you—really happy. Jesus! You landed on your feet there—like I told you before, this is a bit of a fairy tale, isn’t it?”

  Kris raised one eyebrow but said nothing, waiting for her friend to continue as she took a sip of her wine.

  “To be honest, though... don’t tell him this. Please don’t tell him this, but I really expected him to be a jerk.”

  At this, Kris spurted wine out of her mouth back into the glass as a sudden paroxysm of laughter burst from her lungs.

  “Oh, sorry. Shit! Did I say something wrong? Don’t tell him I said that. Please.”

  Kris shook her head, still struggling to suppress her laughter. “Don’t worry... I won’t... I won’t. It’s just... it’s just that you should have met him when I did. He was a jerk!”

  She stopped for a moment and looked out towards the window thoughtfully, her mind wandering along the paths that had led her to this moment. “He was arrogant,” she said at last, serious now. “He was sometimes brusque, brutal even. He had to have his own way.”

  “Sounds a keeper,” murmured Anne ironically.

  Kris couldn’t help but smile at this. “And he was lost. So lost. I still haven’t got to the bottom of it yet. And when... when he touched me.” She remembered those first times in Comrie and, unbidden, a warmth began to spread through her crotch.

  “Yes?” Anne was waiting impatiently. Kris looked at her blankly for a moment, being summoned back to reality from the fantasy of her memories, then she realised where she was and blushed even more.

  “Great,” muttered Anne. “Here I am, waiting for some dirty details, and now you decide to go all coy on me.”

  “I’ll tell you everything,” whispered Kris, leaning into her ear. “When we get back to London. I promise. Absolutely everything.”