The voice always made her melt, and she thrashed her legs about under him. She wasn’t struggling for release or escape. The adrenaline hit her body with a rush. Reaching round his hips, her hands sought and found his firm buttocks. The dimples in his cheeks highlighted his musculature, and a groan left him as she cupped him in her palms.
To have Jason towering above her, with his splendid nudity reigning about her torso, made her soar inside.
“I’m coming,” she spluttered.
He couldn’t stop her and, as she began to implode, he dived down her body and plundered her clenching pussy. The squirting, as he rose up inside her juice-drenched passage, audible and undeniable. Smothering her, he took full advantage of her orgasm. He used it and made others out of it, targeting her G-spot with his bulbous tip. Fisting sheets in her hands, she anchored herself on the bed to prevent her pummelled body from smashing into the headboard.
The force of his fucking delighted her. She felt no fear that his intensive style would become aggressive or out of control. Many times, they had come to this place where he held her. It had been born in her fantasy world and made real by her lover, her husband, and her Dominant. No longer the immature girl, who had let boys chase her and men exploit her, she found her sanctuary. Surrendered and powerless to prevent Jason’s sexual domination, she couldn’t stop the orgasms flooding her.
Her back arched up, ligaments stretched, signalling the potential breaching of her tolerance levels. Muscles and sinews were close to being pulled out of line as his strength overcame her weaker body. Jason withdrew, flipped Gemma over onto her belly, and sank into her for his final onslaught. One hand held her hair, his other her waist. And he kept her fixed under him until he poured his essence into her.
Gemma could feel the heat along with his hips chafing her sore bottom. The strange addition of pain brought her to a last and ultimately exhausting orgasm.
***
Gemma’s submission fed Jason’s own needs, her ultimate power over him. To give him control and leave it in his hands to do as he saw fit. His hands were his ambassadors, sent out to rove and explore her stricken flesh. As each wave of muscle had clenched about him, he ached to have his own completion. The longer he held it at bay, the more she came and the greater his cock grew inside her. His piston had pumped from her lips to barrier, stretching and ploughing a path to her cervix.
The subsequent drop was long and hard for them both. They panted, descended, and collapsed into an embrace of kisses. Words of admiration offered by both parties, and Jason found tears on her cheeks. She appeared unaware of the leakage. Jason chased the teardrops away with his thumbs and drew a quilt over their sweaty bodies, trapping in the heat, and she slipped into slumber.
The next day, there would be no more fucking her. Instead, he would make love gently, and he would ensure she was in as little pain as possible, achieved her orgasm, and he wouldn’t interfere with her pleasure. That night, for one last time aboard Sublime, she had been his to do with as he wished. He had the pleasure of watching her lose herself to him. His passionate heart soared. He kept it hidden from all but his lover. His submissive. His wife.
Chapter 33. Vanilla
Day Nineteen
Gemma found upon waking that Jason had already risen, showered, and breakfasted. She followed his lead and went to have her last shower in the marble-encased bathroom. Stepping around the misted glass panels, Jason greeted her with a towel.
“I’ve been packing up my laptop. Have you had breakfast?”
“Not yet, Sir.” She patted down her body. “How is your arm?”
“Esteban inspected it this morning, checked the dressing. No sign of infection. I’m fine.”
She pictured Modesto, drugged up and locked in a prison cell. She almos
t pitied him. “What will happen to Modesto? Did you find anything else about him?”
Jason leant back on the dresser and crossed his arms. “Yes. Lubinsky received a report from the Philippines. He told me earlier over breakfast with McKenzie.”
“And? Please tell me, Sir.”
“He had a different name, but his description and details matched. He’d run away to sea, just like Ted. According to the authorities out there, his father beat his mother. Something the young Modesto witnessed countless times throughout his childhood. He ended the violence himself. Knifed his father in the chest while his mother slept. Modesto spied on us playing in the pool. I guess the sight of me doing kinky play triggered a reoccurrence of his childhood memories. I think you understand.”
She could feel trickles of water dripping down her legs, but her hands remained rooted to her sides, unable to move. “Yes. I do….”
“Babe?” His hand touched her shoulder, and he cocked his head to one side. “Tell me.”
“I thought I saw something.” Bending down, she started to dry her legs.
Jason straightened, and his hand slipped away. “What? When?”
Gemma stopped, slowly rose, and gave her husband a grimace. He wouldn’t like what she was about to tell him. “When you had a little go at my tits. You know…. The window behind you. I assumed it was a seagull or something. I don’t know. I wasn’t exactly with it. Perhaps, thinking about it, it could have been a head peeping up.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Shit. He saw me smacking your tits. That could explain a lot. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I put it down to my imagination. I was pre-occupied.” She grinned, trying to relieve the tension. “I forgot about it.”
“Um.” Jason perched back on the dresser. “I suppose I did the same. Modesto watching us in the pool. Didn’t bother me. He wasn’t the only one.”