by Jaye Peaches
Afterwards, the men sat for a while in the Jacuzzi while she regained her wits. They helped themselves to beer from the fridge and joked about old times. The early days of Jason’s life as a Dominant, his first cruise. Gemma, sufficiently recovered to walk over to the pool, knelt at the edge. Her hair was a mess, her body sticky and red in places, especially her bottom.
“I’m very sorry I was disrespectful to you, Enrique. I would love to know more about your artistic skills. Really, I would. Sorry,” she said softly.
“Please, Señora Gemma. Let us start again. Sí? We can be gracious adults together, and then your beloved Master will be a happy man. Sí?”
“Yes. I want to keep my Master happy.”
“I will leave now, señor. Your beautiful sub needs you. She looks like a little lost girl, señor.” He rose out of the pool and collected his clothes.
“Thank you, Enrique,” called out Jason as the other man disappeared towards the stairwell.
Jason touched Gemma’s head with his wet hand, dripping water down her face. “Come join me in here,” he told her. “Warm up that arse.”
“You will find my exterior is plenty warm. I’m a little stunned by the whole scene.”
“Let me take care of you, babe, yes?” He stroked her hair out of her face.
“Please, Sir,” she said quietly.
“Are you going to tell me you hated that scene? It was good, yes? A correction, a reminder of your slave status, and a little erotic pleasure, too.” He said the word little with sarcasm. “The multiple orgasms, and I did notice every one of them. The rather powerful climaxes you let rip, were they not great? I certainly enjoyed mine. Pumped you, didn’t I?” He ran a finger down her cheek.
“Ok. I admit that was fucking amazing! You know I love ice play. So kinky and hot!” She had been resolved to hide her delight from Enrique. “Sorry, I didn’t want the man to know. I will be respectful to him, Jason, but please don’t ask me to like him. I can’t make the connection to him. He wants to be my Dom. I’m sure of it.”
“Possibly. Nevertheless, he isn’t, and you shouldn’t let your dislike show. He is difficult to know. Distant. A true voyeur. I’ve rarely seen him fuck. He watches, memorises, and paints quite erotic pictures. Forget his strident personality and try to get to know him.”
“All right. Argh, I’m so sore and hungry. Can we please eat? I would beg a break from you. Truly, I don’t think I can walk after that,” she implored, hands clasped together.
“All right, babe. For the rest of the afternoon, just Mr. and Mrs Lucas. With luck, we will be off the coast of Sardinia soon, and we can spend a couple of hours anchored in a bay. Go for a swim.”
“That would be fantastic, Jason. Thank you. I love you so much. This holiday is beyond anything I could have dreamed of. Fantastic scenery, mind-blowing kinky sex, and a handsome husband.” She snuggled against him.
“Good, because there is more of all three to come. Time for food, and you can keep a look out for the coast of Sardinia.” He kissed her head. “I love you, too, babe. More than words,” he whispered quietly.
Her heart melted.
***
Lubinsky shuffled his feet, standing straight before the desk in the Jason’s office. Dufour stood next to him, with his hands behind his back and eyes fixed on the wall behind Jason’s head.
Jason sat upright in his chair with fingers drumming on the desk. “Don’t keep me waiting. Well?”
“Jean and I have worked together plenty of times, sir. Last time, we escorted a couple visiting a casino. The gambling went to our heads a bit, sir. When we had free time, I played cards, and I borrowed money from Dufour and lost it all, sir. I owe him.” Lubinsky scowled.
Jason rolled his eyes. “How much?”
“Five thousand dollars, sir.” He winced.
Not much money in Jason’s world, although he understood it was significant to these two men. “Why were you gambling with these amounts?”
“Heat of the moment. To be honest, the job can be tedious.”
Jason slammed his hand on the desk. “What a fucking revelation. There I am, thinking being a bodyguard was a fun-packed day of adventure,” said Jason sarcastically. “You’re not paid to be entertained. You can go back to the Navy if you want excitement. People trust you with their safety, their lives. My wife has been nearly murdered three fucking times, and you think I want that thrill in my life?”
“No, sir. Sorry, sir. Poor choice of words.” Lubinsky swallowed hard.
“How long ago was this card game?”
Lubinsky reddened. “Six months ago.”
Jason flung his chair back and stood up, hands on hips. “Six fucking months. You two have been harbouring this grudge for half a fucking year? Don’t you make enough to pay him back?”
Lubinsky had the air about him of a man who wanted to disappear into the floor. Dufour smirked.
Jason saw the expression. “Don’t you dare! You kept this man in debt for six months without respite and used it to your advantage no doubt!” Dufour bowed his head. “Debts can be paid off in instalments, can’t they?”
“I offered to give him three hundred a month, sir,” replied Lubinsky. “He wanted interest.” Dufour’s head shot back up again, glaring at Lubinsky.
Jason ran his fingers through his hair in disbelief. “Is this the first job you’ve worked on together since then?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Dufour, speaking for the first time.
“You’re not exactly friends, then. In fact, you’re a pair of immature, pathetic boys.”
“We worked well before, sir, until.... I was drunk when I asked for the money. Jean tried to persuade me not to go ahead with the bet. I offered him a share if I won. I lost, and he regretted the decision.”
“Bloody right, I did,” snarled Dufour.
“Shut up!” snapped Jason. “Did you intent to pay him back, Lubinsky? Ever?”
“Yes, sir. My wife...she does the household accounts and, well.... She is a bookkeeper and….”
Jason laughed, tossing his head back. In the midst of the ridiculous conversation, he couldn’t believe a man could be held in check by his wife’s ledger. “An ex-navy SEAL afraid of his wife’s tight rein on the money, eh?” Jason returned to his seat. “Lubinsky, you have a gambling problem, yes? Don’t hide it. I expect your wife keeps a close check on your spending. You get drunk on a job, break your vow of abstinence, and borrow money from this tight bastard here who is more interested in making money than friends. Yes?”
Lubinsky took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling. “My employers don’t know I’ve this problem, my gambling. I go to meetings when I can and stay clear of the Internet unless my wife sits by my side and supervises. I love her very much, and she has stood by me. There hasn’t been a slip up since the last time. I’m sorry the poor communication between my colleague and myself is based on such circumstances.”
Jason liked the man’s honesty. “Apology accepted, Lubinsky. Although, if something had happened to my wife, I wouldn’t be magnanimous. You would be heading back to the States unemployed. And in debt.” He turned his attention to the other man, who had a smug expression about him.
“I offered Leo a deal, sir,” said Dufour with a shrug. “He baulked at it. Refused to accommodate my repayment terms.”
“Your payment terms!” slammed Lubinsky. “You came up with them once you saw my compartment.”
Dufour’s fist clenched. “Your better one—”
“If you wanted the debt cleared,” interrupted Lubinsky, “you should have been realistic about it,”
“You may be my superior, but you should never have—” continued Dufour, speaking over Lubinsky.
“Shut it! The pair of you are like children!” roared Jason. “Dufour. You are piece of shit. Knowing this man had a problem, you lent him money, and you got greedy. You don’t have anything to say in mitigation or even seem the slightest bit apologetic. You will be replaced when we arrive in Monaco.”
Dufour shrank back, his arrogance wiped out in a flash.
“I employ my own protection officers back in the UK, Dufour. They work as a team. A cohesive, supportive team I trust with Gemma’s life and mine.” His own team of exhausted bodyguards was on leave, too. He missed their diligent working practices. “If you can’t put aside your personal issues and work together, I don’t want you on board or anywhere near my wife. You will stay out of my sight. Away from Lubinsky. If I hear one thing from the rest of the crew that lends me to believe you to might come to blows, bad words, or anything other than courtesy to each other, I will ensure you are both fired from your jobs and fail to be employed by any other reputable security firm. Now get out!” he dismissed the stunned Dufour.
Lubinsky stood to one side, giving the other man space as he exited the room. “I’m truly sorry, sir. I should have refused to the job. We need the money. I’m still paying off debts. The gambling was my way of dealing with stress. My previous career was demanding—”
Jason held up his hand to stop the man’s outpouring of woes. “I’m not a counsellor, Lubinsky. Yes, you should have found a working arrangement before we arrived, or at least had the honesty to say you two can’t work together. I take it your employers don’t know about your dispute with Dufour?”
“Erm. No, sir.” Lubinsky went pale. “I had been holding the addiction at bay for some years. Six months ago, I had a bad coming off the wagon, so to speak.”
“We all have our vices, Lubinsky. Making sure they don’t take over your life is key to enjoying them in moderation. I’m not unsympathetic. I will pay off Dufour, and that will end your debt to him. You can pay me back without interest over the next twelve months. Would your wife find that acceptable?”
“God, yes. Yes thank you. Sir. I’m overwhelmed....”
Jason would have to tell Gemma he had almost reduced a Navy SEAL to a blubbering wreck with gratitude, not mortification.
“Shut up, Lubinsky. Get out and stay away from Dufour.” As the man touched the handle of the door, Jason spoke one more time. “My wife and I will be visiting a casino in Monaco. I suggest you stay on board and arrange for another to accompany us. Make sure this is all in place before we arrive.”
“Understood, sir.” With a brief nod, a palpable look of relief descended on Lubinsky’s face.
***
“His wife? See, women do hold all the power, Jason.” Gemma’s eyes brimmed with suppressed laughter.
“In his household, it would seem,” said Jason.
“You’re going to let me gamble, then. After that little tale of woe?” she asked, leaning over him on the bed.
“You can have a try. A simple card game, like Blackjack. You can practise before we reach Monaco.”
“How much will you let me have to put on my stakes?”
“Oh, you’ll have to wait and see.” He slipped a hand down her knickers. “Of course, if you lose badly, I will seek compensation. You will reimburse me in some way.”
“And if I make you loads of money?” She shivered as his fingers began to delve inside her.
“To be honest, the compensation and reward might be very similar.”
Gemma’s eyes opened wide at his remark.
Jason grinned. “From my point of view, that is!”
***
“There!” Gemma peered through the binoculars. “I see land.” She pointed out the hazy line on the horizon. Jason leant on the rail, squinting in the bright glare of the sun.
“Let’s go to the bridge. Find out if there is anywhere we can anchor for a while,” he suggested.
McKenzie checked the charts on the computer screen. “We should be able to make it to here by late afternoon. The light would be sufficient for an hour or so for swimming.” He indicated a group of islands to the north of Sardinia.
“Excellent.” Jason rubbed his hands together.
Gemma sketched from the sundeck as they cruised up the western coast of Sardinia. She found landscapes difficult, especially the light reflecting off the water in contrast to the firm features of the interior of the island. She made a series of pictures, each with different techniques and pencil types. She had brought her watercolours and brushes, hoping to turn her sketches into colourful images of their holiday.
Sublime entered the waters between Corsica and Sardinia—their destination, an archipelago of small islands. Ted readied one of the motor launches, since the yacht couldn’t anchor too close to the shoreline. Gemma changed into a swimming costume and Jason into wetsuit bottoms. His chest remained bare, slowly turning bronze in the ultraviolet rays.
Gradually, the yacht edged around a headland, and there before them lay an idyllic bay with golden sands and sky-blue water. Gemma adored the peaceful scene, the absence of tourists, and no houses overlooking the secluded bay. Jason, armed with snorkel and flippers, climbed on board the small motorboat, assisting Gemma. Ted pushed the boat away from the side of Sublime. Waving to McKenzie, he started the motor.
The motor launch sped nearer to the shore. The boat bounced up and down as it hit the retreating waves. Gemma held on to Jason’s arm with a feeling of exhilaration. Not in her wildest dreams would she have imaged she would be swimming off an isolated beach in glorious sunshine with her exceedingly handsome husband, his blond hair sparkling in the bright light.
Reaching about fifty metres from the beach, Ted cut the engine and let the boat drift.
Jason lowered himself into the water. The sun glistened off the gentle waves lapping about his neck. A nervous Gemma, accustomed to the security of the pool with easy to reach sides and a shallow end, followed her husband overboard. The heat of the day made the warm water feel cool. Gemma didn’t mind; the midday sun had baked her on the sundeck.
“Oooo!” She flapped as first her calves then her thighs entered the water. She let go of the side and plunged down next to Jason.
“Come on,” he insisted, “no games, just swim.”
“Cold!”
“You’ll get used to it.” He swam away from the launch, his arms arched in the sweep of a muscular front crawl.
She couldn’t bring herself to let go of the side of the boat.
Ted leant over the side. “Do you want a life vest? That way, if you get tired, I can come to get you, and you won’t sink.”
“Please, Ted.”
She slipped on the buoyancy aid and, filled with renewed confidence, moved away from the wooden launch.
Gemma discovered her fitness levels were better than she had thought. Somehow, she made it to the beach. The gentle tide helped, and she drifted onto the sands until her feet touched the security of the seabed. The grains shifted around her feet, tickling them, sucking her down. Swimming to where the gentle tide broke over the beach, she lay on the wet sand and allowed the water to wash over her.
From out of the sea, Jason emerged. He had been snorkelling and, kicking off the flippers, he joined her on the warming sand.
The afternoon drew to an end. They said nothing to each other, no secret signal was required to show intent. Jason leant over Gemma and kissed her with salty lips. For a brief while, they engaged in passionate and prolonged foreplay with tongues knotting and teeth nibbling on lips, necks, and shoulders.
A whistle blew out across the water. A signal from Ted. The tides were shifting. Time to return to the yacht. Ted brought the launch in as close as the propeller shaft would allow, and they swam out to meet him once he had cut the engine.
As soon as they returned to the yacht and the launch was retrieved, Sublime was back on course for Monaco, the exotic location of the wealthy and privileged. Gemma bounced with excitement.
They ate outside on the sundeck. A delicious evening meal, thought Gemma. French cuisine, and her taste buds preferred it to Spanish. A chasseur of chicken with salad and green beans—a recognisable dish.
They rested for a while, watching the sun disappear completely over the horizon. Jason rose from the viewpoint on the sundeck. He stared
into the darkness, frowning. She recalled he had his troubled acquisition to fret over.
“I’m going to my study.” He stared down at Gemma on her sun bed. “You will join me. Remember, you’re not to distract me.”
“Yes, Master.”
She was about to be taken back. The romantic interlude complete, his willing slave was going to be very obedient, not like the previous day. She followed him meekly, tiptoeing behind him, peeling off her clothes as she went.
Jason instructed Gemma to kneel in the corner, naked and unmoving. Her head bowed, her legs tucked underneath, and her arms folded behind her back. The time passed slowly; she struggled to keep still, and boredom kicked in. Remembering his little lecture, she kept her mind focused on him. A beautifully tanning body, complementing his golden hair. His to-die-for smiles and white teeth. The blue eyes twinkling happily. Her Master and lover.
When he called her, she bent over the desk and he penetrated her without a single word or comment. Tremendous tension filled her body. Her taut pussy gave with each thrust of his hips. Something within her needed to be released.
Gemma had been in a quiet and contemplative place until he placed her over his desk. Then she moved into a contradictory one. Always thrilling to be used on his desk—his position of power. However, his fucking remained perfunctory and clinical. Her fingers held onto the edge tightly, her legs splayed and her pussy mound pressed hard into the mahogany. The familiar sting at the hair roots as he twirled his fingers about her strands, pulling her head up and off the surface.
The long, deep thrusts made her gasp with delight. She loved his ability to fuck her into arousal from nothing. He grunted, the animalistic sounds of a man conducting a much-needed copulation, a fuck—nothing more, nothing less. Her breasts shook as he picked up his pace and, with it, her pussy clenched tight, clinging to him as he slipped in and out. No comments on his part about her conduct, nothing to tell her if she was being suitably submissive in her behaviour.
