Page 253 of Sublime Trust


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“Wow, I never thought I had it in me. I mean I’ve not done it before with you.”

Jason didn’t look cross, which surprised me greatly. If anything, he appeared faintly amused, his lips twitched at the corners, and he had the faint trace of smile wrinkles around his eyes.

“I’m honoured. Why did you fake in the past?”

“Some of your predecessors unfortunately didn’t make me sexy at all, no matter what they did to me,” I confessed and lay back down, flustered by my admission.

“Why couldn’t you come now?” He loomed, furrowing his eyebrows.

“A tad hot, and I didn’t enjoy it,” I whispered. “Actually, I hated it.”

He plonked himself astride my body, arms crossed on his chest, and stared down at me with those wicked blue eyes. “So, I failed to make you feel sexy? So why not say you were struggling with overheating and tell me? You could have passed out. I’m a little pissed with you. You didn’t want to disappoint me, and I understand the reason, but it’s not an excuse. You should have given me a safe-word.”

“Yes, Master. Sorry, Sir. I panicked in the heat of the moment. Heat being the word.” I lowered my eyes, feeling diminished by his little lecture.

He bent to kiss me then trapped my neck with his hand. I tensed at his attention-grabbing technique. It worked every time.

“Don’t do that again, understood?”

“Yes, Master. I value your education, and I won’t forget to communicate better in the future.”

He released his grip with a satisfied nod.

Later, in bed, my dishonesty haunted me. Unable to sleep, I tossed and turned on the bed. It wasn’t like me. I usually told him if I wasn’t there then he’d obligingly find some way to help me. I secretly loved forced orgasms, even if they left me tender and exhausted.

I woke him up with my restlessness.

“Stop doing bloody gymnastics on the bed and go to sleep or else it’s the floor for you,” he chided.

Sleep refused to descend. Thinking about Jason’s assumption I’d reached an orgasm, I cast my mind back to the few men with whom I’d faked, galled to realise I’d resorted to trickery to keep them happy.

Fibbing to Jason didn’t fit with these failed lovers. Jason didn’t berate me when I screwed up sexually. If anything, he would talk through what had gone wrong and tell me what he expected from me next time. Mummification was still on the books, but he had taken on board my comment about overheating.

However, even though he’d admitted he should have checked in better, which he did in the shower as we both cooled down, I remained frustrated by my failure to submit. I let out a big sigh.

“For fuck’s sake, Gemma. What’s the matter?” He switched on the bedside light.

“I wish I’d said something. I feel disappointed I let you down.” My shoulders inched up in the tiniest of shrugs, and I practised the doleful expression that either fired him into action or annoyed him sufficiently to ignore me. I crossed my fingers under the sheets it would be former.

He manhandled me off the bed, bent me over the end then snatched the hairbrush off the dressing table and walloped my bare backside.

“Thank you, Sir,” I shrieked.

The spanking liberated my thoughts of failure and, by the time my bottom blazed, he’d decided to fill me. I remembered little of his antics, other than he nearly propelled me head first off the bed with the force of his thrusts.

“Are you going to come for me now?”

“Yes, Sir!”

That orgasm rocked, and he enjoyed his, too, underneath his veneer of cross Dom.

“The next time you want to bring something to my attention at this ungodly hour, you’ll not be sitting down for days, under fucking stood? Don’t bloody keep me awake with your post-mortems. Is that educational enough for you?” he snarled before tossing the duvet back over the bed.

“Very, Sir. Thank you.” I curled up into a ball, and he spooned about my body. My bottom throbbed, my pussy was super sore with overuse, but Jason had absolved me. I fell asleep immediately.

***

Education occupied my thoughts in other ways. Joshua’s education. It seemed ridiculous to me to fret about schooling when he wasn’t even two years old, but Jason had pointed out private schools in the London area required early registration.

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