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One last pummel and a judder signalled a lingering ejaculation. She made sure she squeezed him empty and tightened her pussy to aide his climax. The weight above went, freeing her to breathe easily. In the darkness, she sensed him going to the bathroom. Lying as he had left her, he returned to place a towel on the mattress between them then he rolled her onto it. His creamy semen, mixed with her copious juices, leaked out. Once again by her side, he seemed to fall into an instant slumber, softly snoring, while she created a sticky mess under her bottom.
Gemma didn’t mind he plundered her without warning. The agreement, his rules, catered for the adventure. Scenes were no longer prearranged, timed events conducted with warnings, and wrapped around rituals or protocols. She was his to take and enjoy. Had she not dreamed of it as a maturing girl? The stuff of her fantasies, years of imagining alpha males commanding her body. Only her trust in Jason allowed them to come true. No other man would ever inspire her confidence or acquiescence. He’d captured her heart long ago, possibly before she even knew him to be a Dominant. Dominating, yes, she could tell that from their first encounter, but a Master, who sought the benefits of a power exchange, that she’d discovered later. That night, like many others, she offered him her willingness to submit. It wouldn’t be the last.
She rested there for a while until she was convinced she wouldn’t spoil the under sheet,then she curled up and drifted off. In the morning, he made no comment as she tossed the soiled towel in the laundry basket. His blue eyes shone in her direction, the kind of sparkle that made her smile with self-satisfaction. Hearing a squawk, she went to fetch the noisy child from his cot.
***
The post arrived after Jason left for work. Sorting through the envelopes, one caught her attention, the logo of the company embossed on the corner of the large manila envelope. The property agent, one of many she had searching for a suitable location for her art gallery, had previously failed to find anything she liked. As a consequence she didn’t hold out much hope. She peeled back the flap and tipped the contents onto the kitchen table. She spread the property sheets across the kitchen table, and perused the latest batch of offerings. Pausing, she slid one glossy page closer, casting her eyes over the photograph and summary.
Situated in her target area, on a wharf near the river, alongside busy offices and other lucrative holdings. She flicked the sheet over and checked the floor plan. Perfect! The right amount of floor space. Sitting down, she scrutinised the details, mentally ticking off her list of requirements, one by one.
“Yippee!”
She couldn’t resist e-mailing Jason at work. His clipped reply offered congratulations. He never liked to be disturbed at the office unless essential. She wanted to arrange to view the property on the following Monday. The paper view of the world didn’t always match the reality on the ground. She needed his permission. Anything that took her out of her usual routine required his approval.
She’d once detested the requirement. Sometimes it felt like she wore an invisible chain about her ankle, the other end firmly in Jason’s grasp. She’d rebelled in the past, and it had been costly. One time had resulted in an attempt on her life and a sound thrashing by his cane for being reckless with her safety. She’d known somebody had been stalking her. Another time, she’d simply wanted a spontaneous and unaccompanied walk in the park. Dave Johnson had jogged down the road to catch up with her. The CCTV had captured her escape. She’d never realised bodyguards lurked out of sight in the vicinity of the White House, ready to strike. Blythewood Estate was even worse. She couldn’t open the front gate without somebody pressing a button in the gatehouse. Her unplanned walk had resulted in a lecture from Jason.
She hadn’t hidden her frustration. “Fucking prisoner.”
He’d pinned her down with those intense blue eyes. “I’m not keeping you prisoner. You can leave, but not on your own.”
“I’m watched, then, all the fucking time!”
“Damn right. Look at the mess you get in. You’re too trusting, too impulsive. You think with your heart and not your head. From now on, any travel, trips, or little strolls in the park that are out of the ordinary, you have to ask me.”
Her mouth had opened and shut numerous times. She’d fumed, kicking the door as she marched out of his study. Of course, she did what he asked. The first few times, she couldn’t hide the resentment. She’d laboured the inconvenience in her texts or e-mails. She’d even risked lacing disenchantment in her tone when she rang to ask. He’d ignored her sulking and gave her permission. After a while, contacting him became routine. Jason rarely said no. Was it a big deal? She noticed, after he responded to her requests, she tingled all over.
An hour after she sent the e-mail asking permission to arrange a property viewing, he granted it. She felt the familiar sense of an electric pulse whizz around her body. Was she that transparent to him? He’d claimed he wouldn’t micromanage her, but they both knew a modicum of control freakiness fired her up and kept him happy.
Gemma arranged the appointment for Monday morning. The visit would be a welcome distraction. She dismissed blackmailers and concentrated on art galleries.
Friday afternoon, with Gemma ensconced in her atelier at Blythewood, the intercom boomed across the room at her.
“What?” she snapped, unhappy at the interruption. Paintbrush in hand, she sighed as the guard informed her of the arrival of Audrey Lucas, her mother-in-law. After washing the paint off, Gemma charged across the freezing-cold courtyard, ducking her head in the bracing wind, and greeted Audrey in the living room of the main house.
“Gemma!” Her mother-in-law rose from her seat and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Where is my grandson?” A set of inquisitive blue eyes sparked at her. So like Jason’s, and quite unnerving on occasion.
Joshua hadn’t woken from his nap, leaving Clara to listen for him.
Gemma pointed up at the ceiling. “Asleep, still. Lazy boy, especially when granny is visiting.”
Sipping on a cup of coffee, Audrey updated Gemma with the family news about Jason’s siblings.
“Anthony’s business…not good. Something of a
rough patch, I gather.”
Gemma gave a shrug. She saw Jason’s brother a couple of times a year. It wasn’t any secret to the rest of the family that the two brothers didn’t get on with each other—chalk and cheese personalities.
“Louise and Ben have moved house. Much bigger place, and he now has a workshop for repairing musical instruments.”
The news pleased Gemma. She liked her sister-in-law, and ever since Jason had rescued Louise from a harassing boss, the bond had grown tighter.
“The big news. Michael has a girlfriend, Rebecca. A solicitor. I’m not entirely sure how serious the relationship is yet. Knowing Michael’s excessive work hours, she probably sees little of him.”
Michael, Jason’s younger and enigmatic brother, once presented Jason with a problem. He’d discovered Jason’s secret pastime and exposed him to the rest of the family as a Dominant and lover of kinky relationships. The resulting aftermath had rippled on for years, with the family uncertain how to treat their unorthodox member. In the end, numerous heads buried themselves in the sand, and Jason had been left isolated. That was, until Gemma came along and opened up the wounds, forcing the family to deal with and resolve their feelings towards her husband. She didn’t think for one minute everything was perfect. Michael, Jason’s favourite brother, had survived the unveiling unscathed. Jason had forgiven him without hesitation. Gemma saw Michael as a facsimile of his older brother. Alike in appearance and manners, their chosen careers cast them apart. Michael, the high-flying barrister, had a quieter edge to his nature, an introvert and unassuming in a social setting. She had yet to work him out.
Audrey gazed at her for a while, locked into focus on Gemma’s necklace. She’d been fingering it as she drank her coffee. The golden pendant locket with the letter J encrusted with diamonds hung from the diamond collar chain.
