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“Of course. We understand, don’t we, John?” Andrea nudged his arm. “We discussed this on the way over.”
John gave a curt nod.
“I don’t want to sound like we’re cold shouldering you. We will use this deck for meals and socialising.” Gemma shuffled backwards. “I’ll leave you to settle in.”
***
Gemma returned to the sundeck and joined Jason where he lay under the canopy. “I told them our deck is out of bounds. That was the right thing to do, wasn’t it, Jason?” she asked, eyes downcast.
“Yes. Good girl. Did they take offence?”
“No. I don’t think so. Andrea is more clued in than my brother. I felt ashamed at excluding him from our deck. You want to keep playing with them on board?”
“Not in their company. At least, not explicitly. It’s not as if they don’t know what we are.” She drew her knees up, feet tapping restlessly. “Look at me.” He tipped her chin up. “I will endeavour not to humiliate you in the presence of your brother. Be respectful, that is all. You’ve got your period, and we should concentrate on other excursions and distractions. Jet Skis, for example?”
“Oh, John would love that.”
He grabbed her hand and drew her to him.
“Sir?” Her fingers clamped around his waist.
“I’m thinking gratitude.” Jason liked to have her in his debt. Since the casino, he’d noted it added to his sense of control over his wife.
“Here, now.” She glanced about. “They’ve only just arrived and—”
He cut her off with a toothy tug on her lower lip. Nothing would change his mind. “Lots of gratitude, Gemma. That’s what I expect.”
They retreated to the privacy of the stateroom, and he leant against the table with his eager wife between his legs, holding his erection in her hands. Today was definitely about oral gratification. As she gagged, spurted, and slurped on his long shaft, she rattled off plenty of thank yous and you’re-a-wonderful-Master type comments. He could barely make out her stuttering words as she drooled and sucked hard.
Holding her head in place, he could sense the impending orgasm. This one would be all his, and she would have to wait for hers on another occasion—not that she seemed to mind. Her eyes latched onto his face, and there was definitely an expression of endearing gratefulness written on it. A pity she had her period, he could have gotten so much more out of her if she had been available below the waistline. There was always tomorrow, and he would put her to good use then.
Chapter 14. The Chaperone
As they sailed towards Genoa, the kind sea helped Gemma’s brother and girlfriend find their sea legs. The crew brought drinks, fruit, and small pastries to the aft of the main deck where their guests could take in the view. Another woman had joined the crew shortly before departure. The extra steward was appointed to help with food preparation and serving the newly arrived couple’s needs.
Gemma thought the crew was in high spirits. They grinned at each other and chatted quietly in the background. Extra guests meant entertainment and relief from the boredom of routine maintenance tasks. She and Jason had been very reclusive and rarely bothered to venture out of their private domain.
The new steward, Jada, helped Esteban lay out the plates on the table. Gemma sucked on a segment of orange, listening to John and Andrea chat. Jason picked at a bunch of grapes, tugging the fruit free of the vine with a finger and thumb.
“I had no idea it was going to be this grand.” Andrea fingered her sleeve. “I didn’t bring enough nice clothes.”
Jason watched Andrea try to snatch off a frayed cotton end from her sleeve. “Don’t worry. We should be in Genoa early evening. Gemma can take you shopping. I’m sure you girls would enjoy the adventure.” He smiled as Andrea’s face lit up, and she let go of the cotton thread.
“Brilliant idea, Jason. I can treat Andrea.” Gemma tossed the orange peel on her plate.
Andrea’s cheeks reddened. “Please. Don’t. We’re being spoilt rotten as it is.”
“No, I insist. Looking good, feeling good. That’s my motto,” said Gemma, drumming her hands on her lap with excitement.
“An expensive motto, John,” commented Jason.
By late afternoon, they arrived in Genoa. The routine of docking the yacht was familiar to Gemma, but not her brot
her and girlfriend. The visitors watched Sublime drift into its berth at a sedate pace, while Gemma took her husband to one side to discuss the evening’s plans.
“We’re dining on shore tonight. Italian cuisine.”
“Pizza?” She smacked her lips together, pretending to scoff a mouthful.
