“Oh. Have you ever had a giant dildo inserted in your vagina?”
Gemma went crimson. She hadn’t, but she had often wondered what it would feel like.
Chapter 11. Flashback
Day Six
The pregnancy test was negative. She threw the stick across the bathroom in disgust. With a grim face, she told Jason the news over breakfast.
“Sorry, babe.” He patted her hand. “Don’t fret. I’m not worried. What bothers me is you’re getting worked up about it.”
“I’m young, Jason. I’ve had friends who fuck once and they’re pregnant.” She landed a dollop of jam on her toast, smashing the spoon against the plate.
“Seriously, Gem. You’re not doing yourself favours comparing our situation to others’. Let’s enjoy this holiday. Since you’re not pregnant, we don’t have to end play.”
“I still can’t believe what you did to me last night.” Gemma shook her head a few times, trying to hide a smile.
“Do not complain about last night. You had a spectacular orgasm. If I hadn’t gagged you, you would have woken up the whole crew with your screams.” Jason wagged a finger at her. “On the orgasm count, you are way up on mine, you greedy slut. I will have you. I’ve no plans to be gentle. A good, hard, eye-watering arse fuck is what you need.”
Butterflies raced about her bell. Rough sex…she could handle his rough sex. The midday heat hadn’t arrived yet. He brought her up to the sundeck to have his obligatory morning oral sex. For the next ten minutes, Gemma held out and let him do as he pleased. The buzz of excitement remained, but he was too quick for her. One orgasm more to add to his quota.
Picking up his shorts, he left her spread out on the lounger. “I’m going to work. You can entertain yourself. Don’t stray. I may want you again.”
Maria arrived with soothing feminine words and sensual fingers. Gemma didn’t want to confess to him she looked forward to Maria’s attentive hands. Especially the manner in which she used them. Though non-sexual, they always made Gemma feel erotic and needy.
***
The noise from outside Jason’s study distracted him. Music blared through the walls alongside the sound of Gemma singing heartily and loudly. Her singing became increasingly boisterous and over the top for his tastes. Was this another one of her attention-seeking ploys? He slammed his laptop lid down in annoyance.
Walking out of his study, he collided with Gemma as she stepped back, swinging her hips to the beat of the music. With her iPod plugged into the music system, she had decided to dance in their salon. He couldn’t complain about privacy. The crew couldn’t see her jive and wriggle her hips.
“Whoops! Sorry.” A hand covered her mouth to suppress a giggle.
“Have you been drinking?” he asked.
“No! I’m high on life.” She pressed her body against his.
“I’ve been trying to work, and all I can hear is your gob and an interminable thumping.” He pushed her off his chest.
He had to admit she was gorgeous to behold. Braided hair gave her a refined elegance, even with the sweat shining in the roots. Her mouth had a veneer of lipstick, sufficient to give her lips a fuller, redder appearance. She wore a strapless purple dress, breasts supported by the tight-fitting wrapped fabric about her belly. The motif of henna was visible above the cut of the dress top. Her stained feet were bare.
&n
bsp; She licked around her mouth, as if to tempt him in. A beguiling invitation, which, once again, she appeared unable to tame. She looked hot and thirsty, but he doubted it was the reason for her actions. Jason cast his mind back to a vision he had beheld while sunbathing the previous day involving her very fuckable mouth.
“Go up to the sundeck and wait for me.” Her shoulders slumped at his stern tone. He glared down at her, wondering if she would resist again. Instead, she dropped her eyes and sighed deeply.
“Yes, Sir.” A scowl crept briefly over her face.
Her disposition, he thought, wasn’t a credible display of obedience. Additionally, she hadn’t dropped to her knees on sight of him. All small displays of disobedience. He itched to discipline her. He’d had little reason over the last few days to spank her, bar the incident with Enrique. Yes, he would spank her. A brief interlude and a warm up to his plans to be played out on the sundeck.
“You need a good spanking,” he said curtly, and she gaped, dropping her jaw low.
“Whatever you like,” she said with a sulkiness in her voice he wouldn’t tolerate—something she would surely know. He suspected she must have fancied a spanking. What she wouldn’t have factored would be the severity he intended. Unfortunately for his wife, she had misjudged his mood—he wasn’t feeling playful.
His fingers gripping her above the elbow, he propelled her towards one of the armchairs. Bending her over, he pulled her knickers down and her skirt up over her head. She was resting at the perfect height for a thorough spanking; therefore, he gave her one.
She grunted with each blow of his hand. A flat palm, bouncing off each buttock in turn, sufficiently fearsome to make his hands sore and her cheeks rapidly redden. His hand swept to shoulder height, descended fast, making a loud smacking sound, echoing over the marble and glass. He held her in place, pressing down, and the sight of her squirming awakened his libido. His cock shifted, moved, and began to rise up in his pants. Its ascent continued as she slumped over the armchair and started to wail.