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His fingers found her clitoris and, with a slow circular movement, rubbed her gently. The dramatic arousal made her body quiver. He sucked and tickled her with his fluttering tongue. Fingers continued to seek out her clit and to drive her to another climax.
“I can’t!”
“No can nots. You will. Because I demand it.” In between words, his tongue darted in and out of her. Then he paused and slapped her thighs several times. “Where is the fucking gratitude, slave. Your orgasm quota is way up on mine. I’ll leave you half-baked if you don’t give me serious gratitude!”
“Thank you. Thank you. Please, don’t stop. Please, make me come. You’re the best, Master,” she gushed as he buried his face deep within her.
Another splendid, body-wrenching orgasm. She wept into the pillow as his fingers kept her going for what felt like an eternity.
Her final sapping orgasm had left Jason fired up, his body demanded his own kind of gratification, and she simply would do whatever he wished, indebted to him.
He sat astride her legs and slapped her breasts hard with his right hand. “Next time, you show your gratitude quicker. Don’t make me fucking ask for it.”
He smacked at her branded breasts repeatedly until he transformed the undyed skin pink and her responses flitted between pleasure and pain. Bizarrely, she wanted him to treat her so, to repay his generosity with her submission, to give her body to him and her willingness to accept his sadistic side.
With his back to the panoramic window, his shadow cast a darkness over her body. Beyond, through the window, she saw dazzling blue sky and wisps of cloud. Another flick of his wrist, and she winced as her tender flesh stung from his smack. A chuckle accompanied his little slaps. Something moved across the view beyond Jason. A bird perhaps? Another bobbing flicker of movement, hovering at the window edge, then gone. She wondered what a seagull would make of her submission, her desire and need to be treated as her husband’s sexual plaything. Nothing. A bird, fortunately for them, had no opinions.
She lay with her arms stretched wide away from her body. An act of capitulation, as if she was on a cross. Her focus returned to Jason and his looming presence. She wriggled beneath him, very aware of her aroused clitoris, still pulsating from her last orgasm.
“I’m sorry, Sir. I apologise for my ingratitude!” she howled, knowing how he loved the sound of contrition.
He ceased smacking her sensitive breasts. She barely noticed he reached his own climax with the vigorous action of his tugging hand. Grasping her hair and pulling her head off the pillow, he groaned and came over her face, spurting across her cheeks and lips.
“Thank you, Sir. Thank you for coming on me. Thank you,” she whimpered, nursing her sore breasts with her hands. The unique connection she felt with her husband had been achieved. Not through lovemaking or tender words, but by her submission. A capitulation that enthralled her.
They lay side by side, breathing heavily, eyes shut. Gemma didn’t move. His semen trickled down her face, and she licked her lips.
“Mmmm!” she murmured. “Tasty.”
“Gemma. Go wash your face. I know what you did last night. Sleeping with my semen all over you. It’s repulsive”—he flicked her arm—“and very kinky.”
Underneath the white sheen, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
Chapter 27. The Nightclub
When Gemma and Jason disembarked Sublime, a limousine was waiting for them with its engine purring. At the sight of the sleek white vehicle, she gave Jason’s hand a squeeze of gratitude and saved the lingering kiss for when they settled in the back seat. Remy and Lubinsky took up positions in the front seats with the driver.
“Thank you for tonight,” she whispered, glancing over to the trio of men. “When I dance, it will only be for you.”
He patted her thigh. “Of course.”
Throughout dinner at the waterfront restaurant, they chatted amiably. A husband and wife conversation, so natural and fulfilling after two weeks of sexual topics.
“A new deal lined up?” She examined the unidentifiable contents of her plate. Another opportunity for him to order for her.
During the morning, Jason had been busy firing off e-mails. With his existing acquisition ground to a halt, he had picked up the next one in the pipeline.
“A Canadian accountancy firm.”
“Don’t you have one already?”
Having worked for his company, Gemma knew the corporate structure. Jason’s biggest division, and the most successful, was his accountancy one. Large firms in various countries providing a range of services including bookkeeping, financial services, auditing, and investment consultants.
“The existing one I own is small scale really. Most of the clients are medium type businesses, individuals, etcetera. The firm I want to acquire has multi-national clients and the clout and influence to bring in others. Once the acquisition has gone through, I will merge the two companies. There are areas that complement and others that overlap significantly. Some weeding out will have to be done.”
Gemma pulled a disgruntled face at the thought of people losing their jobs.
“Unfortunate, but necessary to build my company and increase profits.” Jason shrugged.
