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“When I wrote the letter, I thought I was reflecting what you were telling me and it would be what you wanted. Confirmation of yo
ur thoughts and restating them would help bring you closure,” he paused.
I could not hide my despair. Had not love enter into his thoughts at all?
“I tried to arrange a flight for you back south.” Jason looked up at me and his eyes were looking brighter, almost watery.
Surely not tears!
“When they told me the airport had suspended all flights, I was overcome with relief. An emotion which almost undid me. It meant you would still be here and maybe you would change your mind. So, I went to find you, in your room. You weren’t there. I looked around the hotel, no sign of you. It had turned dark and cold outside. The thought never crossed my mind you would be out in it. Then when the receptionist told me you’d gone out on foot and it had been an hour since you’d left. Christ, Gemma!” His voice crumbled for a few seconds and then he cleared his throat before continuing.
“The hotel staff, the manager, they all came to search for you. You looked like a frozen statue sat there. I thought you were dead. The manager carried you back in, checked you over, I couldn’t touch you. Your skin was so cold and I wanted to feel warmth from you.” He came to a sudden halt as if he did not want to think about yesterday any longer.
I could not bear it anymore and I emerged from my warm cocoon and crawled next to him. I took one of his hands in mine and he let me. He had done what I wanted him to do, showed me his feelings and they had made me contrite.
“I’m sorry,” I said with sincerity. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I don’t think I was aware what I was doing by then. I couldn’t believe you would accept my departure so easily. I couldn’t see a future without you. The snow looked so pretty and inviting, like the sheets of a bed. Somewhere to retreat to and give up.”
He wrapped my hand in both of his and leant down to kiss it.
“What did you have planned for me this weekend?” I asked intrigued.
He looked slightly embarrassed. “All the things you would desire, romance, my devoted attention and a... a proposal.”
His lips curled up and I was sitting up looking up at him intently. “Gemma. I want you to stay with me, but things are going to be different from now on. I promise you. I do love you and want you to have my love unconditionally. From now on I won’t make you submit to me in any office, hotel room or any room in our houses,” he was speaking earnestly and with passion. “Do you understand?”
I nodded but I had serious doubts. There was the unmet need in both of us - his need to control me and mine to be dominated. The traits were innate in both of us.
“What of your needs, Jason? And mine too. I’m not saying I don’t want to be your submissive, it’s the boundaries which need to be defined better.”
Jason cupped my face in his hands, stroking his thumbs across my cheeks. He smiled in relief, in spite of everything, I knew he wanted to be my master.
“You will only ever be my submissive in one room. We will enter together as equals, no more waiting for me, and there you can freely submit to me when I ask you to and we will do our scenes, nothing more.”
A wave of release flooded over me. That arrangement could work for me if he could manage the rest of the time to control his urges.
“What about your rules?”
Would he expect me to comply with them all the time?
“Outside of the lair? They're gone, out of the window. No asking permission, no kneeling. If you want to take pleasure in yourself while away on a business trip, I’ll cope with the idea as long as you’re thinking of me.”
Jason had a boyish look on his face. Our conversation was going well, I felt liberated and these boundaries were making sense to me. “Flirting, your type of flirting, I will have to come to terms with, I’ll need time though. I don’t want to share you, not with strange men.”
I agreed, his concept of flirting would be harder for him to deal with, especially if he could not even bear me talking to strange men.
Jason moved off the bed and knelt at my feet. It took me by surprise to see him at my feet looking edgy and meek. He took my hands in his and squeezed.
“Gemma. I love you and I want to be with you forever. My proposal is marriage. I would wish you to be my wife.”
For a spilt second, I thought I had misheard him or imagined this strange scene in a dream. A dominant asking me to marry him because he loved me. I could not stop the tears of delight. I leapt down into his lap and wrapped my arms around him.
“Yes! Yes, yes,” I burbled the words out at him.
We sat on the floor for some time, not speaking and just holding each other. Our breathing conjoined in excitement. After a while, I did not know how long, we got up, climbed back into the bed and snuggled down in each other arms. We both wanted to sleep, it had been a stressful night, but our tribulations were over now.
Later we made up for lost time. I did not wear my evening gown. We did not leave the suite and we barely left the bedroom. Whatever Jason had planned for the weekend had been ploughed away with the snow. The bed became our sanctuary and my body rediscovered its warmth with Jason’s help. As darkness descended again, his eyes summoned me into his arms. I saw beyond their intense blueness into his heart and mind.
There had, and always would be, an unequalness between us but we were balanced in our own way. Even without the things I had long craved – the whips, ropes and sensual toys – we were compatible in our love-making. I adored his masterful ways: the manipulation of my body was done with subtleness and I could not stop my mouth from seeking him out in reply. Never one for many words during sex, Sunday night in Scotland, Jason gave me all I desired. The next day, I vaguely remembered his utterances, his affirmations, the gentle caresses and my blissful climaxes – they were mere essences of that night. They were sufficient for my memories. I wanted nothing more. I had Jason’s love.
