by Jaye Peaches
The announcement of our engagement was postponed until we had let our respected parents know. Jason’s parents could not hide their delight. Their son was finally settling down and fulfilling their dreams. I hoped the tension, which Jason felt towards his siblings, would abate too.
Naturally, my parents had been concerned.
“This engagement is awfully quick, Gemma,” my mother had whispered to me in her kitchen. “Are you sure?”
“We’ve had to work through a few issues, mum, but honestly it is good, really good. Don’t worry about me. For one thing, I’m going to be very rich, so I don’t want you and dad to worry about anything. Jason is very generous with his money,”
“I don’t want your money, dear, just your happiness.”
Jason had been much more relaxed during this visit. He did not look too out of place in my parents’ semi-detached house. We came in my BMW leaving his Austin Martin back at home; too ostentatious to park in a quiet cul-de-sac. My dad and Jason shared a common interest in cricket and I had sighed inwardly when I realised my summer months would include cricket clubs as well as golf clubs.
Trudy had been over the moon, threw her arms around me when I told her. “Oh well done, Gemma. All this time you’ve been beavering away and you’ve hit the jackpot. Those excuses about your weekends, tut, tut...” She had stood back and smiled at me hands on hips. “You clean up good too, manicured and polished, wealth suits you.”
I had gone red in the face at the reminder of how rich I was going to be when I become Mrs Lucas.
Trudy had looked noticeably thinner and had slight scar above her eyebrow. I had shuddered at the thought of what had happened to her. She had reached out and taken my hand.
“I’m alright, Gemma, honestly. I cannot recall a thing about that night. I’ve got to come to terms with what has happened to me, but I don’t have a sense of trauma about it all. Hopefully I never will.” I had tried to smile back at her. It was hard as I felt nothing but guilt for her predicament.
“The counsellor has been very helpful and I’m ready to go back to work. I’m very grateful to your Mr Lucas for his support.”
Jason had been paying a highly respected psychologist to meet Trudy regularly.
“No ring?” Trudy had noticed the absence of my engagement ring.
“Soon, he’s promised me.”
The very next day, I stood in a Cartier shop examining a whopping great big diamond engagement ring.
“It is nice,” had been all I could say.
“Nice!?” had glared Jason. “That word nice again.”
I had placed the ring back on the counter.
“They are all nice, Jason, but I just don’t see myself wearing a big stone on my finger. I prefer restrained, unpretentious. I don’t want to worry about losing it all the time,” I had tried to speak quietly so not to embarrass the shop assistant.
“Look, Gem, it is your choice. I’m a bloke, it all goes over my head.”
I had smiled at his comment and looked over yet another tray of rings.
“This one,” I had pointed at a platinum ring with a three small diamonds set into it. Slipping it on, I held my hand out to show it to him.
Jason had lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it.
Gradually the news of our announcement seeped out. My best moment was when I went to Jason’s office on a Friday morning and revelled in my new status as the future wife of the boss. I had called into the office one Monday to meet Jason for a lunch break.
~
Gone was snappy Carla. Instead, the smiling PA quickly offered me a coffee and a selection of expensive biscuits. I declined. Arriving at the entrance of the building I had been waved in by the security desk, no pass required. I had made my way up in the lift to the top floor. The temptation to step out at my old floor had been strong, however, I did not wish to see Penny or Amanda, not after what Libby did to me. Jason had Andy moved to a different division, a sideways move for a fresh start in the company. Andy had felt guilty that he had not spotted Libby’s psychopathic tendencies. Nobody had though, including her heart-broken father.
When I entered Jason’s office for what was only the third time, I was neither nervous nor fearful. I was thrilled to be at the heart of his business. In the middle of a telephone conversation, he waved me into his office.
“I don’t care, get it sorted now and don’t come back to me with excuses. This should never have gotten out of hand. I want a full report in my inbox by nine tomorrow.” The handset was slammed down.
“Bad time?” My excitement was somewhat crushed.
Jason’s face immediately softened as he watched me edge my way forward. He came around the desk and took me in his arms, kissing me tenderly.
“Baby, never a bad time with you. Let’s go. I can only spare an hour.”
The final piece of our relationship jigsaw slotted into place a month after our engagement. I came home to Blythewood on a Friday to find Jason already there. He was washing his hands in the kitchen sink, dressed in jeans and t-shirt. He looked pleased with himself.
“Hi,” I had said with curiosity laced in my greeting.
“Come, I want to show you something,” he took my hand and led me to his lair. “It’s not what you think,” he opened the door and I immediately saw in the corner of the room a new piece of furniture. I walked up to it and admired its beautiful construction.
“I’ve been putting it together, not quite flat packed, but I had to make adjustments to height etc.,” Jason looked proud of his DIY skills. “What do you think?”
The apparatus was different, a long bench for me to lie on, like a gymnastics beam. Knee and arms rest, keeping me splayed out for him but supported. I touched the smooth leather top and felt the straps, their lined with soft velvet, they would never chafe me. I picked up a piece of ball-shaped rubber that was attached at the head end by a strap.
“A gag, but you choose when to use it and you can spit it out yourself.”
My insides were starting to do their somersaults.
“And this?” I asked.
I pointed to a raised smooth piece of wood at the lower end of the bench, right near the end of the leather. He was standing very close to me now and in my ear he whispered.
“For your stimulation, my love. An extra I had specially made for you.”
Oh God! I wanted to melt on the spot.
“What do you think, Gemma? Would you be able to use it?” he asked.
I looked up to the wall to where the canes used to hang. Jason took them away when I said I would not able to tolerate their touch. No canes, no head upside down. It would do.
“Perfect, Jason,” I beamed at him and we were quickly in each other’s arms, kissing hard and tongues deep in mouths.
“So you’re alright for tonight?” he asked pulling me away from his mouth.
“Why wait for tonight, Jason?!”
His eyes opened wide and I slipped gently down to my knees before him.
He touched my hair with his fingers. “Oh, Gemma. You’re my heart and soul.”
Oh, the night we had in that room. Afterwards I was content, lying on the bed. We had spent the entire night in his lair, fetching in refreshments when our stamina ebbed. The bench was amazingly erotic. Though he had inflicted pain on me with his favourite whip and paddle, he used them sparingly, breaking me in gently. I had called him master when in entered me and used me to reach his powerful climax, mine conjoined to his like a twin. Soon we would be married and our relationship would be complete. The traumas of my past put away, not forgotten but contained. I was being healed and my future felt secure.
Jason lay alongside me asleep, wrapped in the sheet. He looked wonderfully calm and at peace with himself. I snuggled up beside him and fell into a deep sleep.
Epilogue
Gemma Lucas picked up the small artist’s paintbrush and started to rinse the tip under the cold water tap. The water ran about the b
ase of the chrome sink, swirling and twisting about as it made its way towards the plug-hole. As the brush hairs came into contact with the water, the colour of the paint mingled with the clear liquid. The stark bright red colour formed a twirling pattern like raspberry sauce on top of an ice-cream sundae. Round and round the redness turned as the water carried away the colour. The brush was small, typical of the ones she chose to paint with, and was unremarkable other than the fact it seemed to hold the paint to its fibres like glue.
The rinsing was taking too long.
She gripped the wooden handle tightly in her hand and it felt like it was going to snap between her fingers. Her gaze was transfixed on the paint eddy, almost hypnotically and other images flashed before her eyes but not like a daydream. What she saw was reality in her mind and uncompromisingly realistic. The pictures forming were not the problem. It was the emotion, which accompanied the vision, that caused her to panic.
Fear.
No, no. No! God no!
Everything went blank.
THE END.
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Next book in the series by Jaye Peaches
Trust Me to Own You
Married to millionaire Jason Lucas, Gemma has to learn to be a dutiful wife. A grand garden party looms and Gemma is tasked with organising it. She must also deal with problematic domestic issues and her husband is not pleased with her efforts. At the weekends, sinking to her knees before Jason, Gemma finds relief as his submissive lover.
However, she is still haunted by her traumatic past and struggles to be what he desires. In a moment of foolishness, Gemma makes an error of judgement. An act she comes to regret and she must face the consequences.
Jason married for love, but will he be able to foster romantic graces for his wife? His passion to be her Dominant remains strong. Determined to prevent his wife from succumbing to further traumas and to aid her recovery, he has an idea: take her abroad to New York and asks her to submit to a week of escapism involving 24/7 domination and submission, bondage and kinky sex. Will she agree to trust him and will she survive his style of domination for the duration?
Most importantly - will their love survive?
Trust Me to Own You is the second volume in a fictional account of two people who begin a journey together. Both characters are sexy, know what they want in life and how to have pleasure in their sex lives. One takes control and the other yields. In the bedroom there are the erotic scenes of kink, the trappings of BDSM and it can be intoxicating - and dangerous.
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Author’s website
http://jayepeaches.wordpress.com
Includes background stories about key characters.
