Judged by Him (32 page)

As she admired the view, Jason put his arm around her and stood behind her. He yawned, sipping from his cup. Like her, he had eaten his toast rapidly. He lifted up her T-shirt and ran his fingers down her bare bottom. Leaning forward, she rested her hands on the window.

“No. Go and have your massage.” He gave her bottom a playful slap. “I’m coming to watch. I will give permission for Maria to make you orgasm during your massage, a tantric one for your pleasure. Then I shall enjoy you myself.”

The knowledge he had used her massages with Maria to entice her into playing had gradually sunk in. Gemma tried not to be annoyed that his ploy to have her break open for him had been successfully accomplished. She had been correct with her presumption back in the limousine, driving to Marbella. There had been a mission to their holiday and the objective, her versatility.

Most people, whether as couples or families, went on holiday to unwind and escape. Jason couldn’t accomplish such a trivial activity as idleness. As much as she enjoyed relaxing and soaking up the ambience, he played, shaped, and tinkered with everyone about him. Uncovering the ineptitudes of his security team, the sexual abuse of the boson, and her own underdeveloped stirrings for sexual variety. All the events, which had occurred on the voyage, nit-picked and examined by her controlling husband and his taste for games.

Gemma knotted her eyebrows.

“Don’t frown at me. Go on. Enjoy yourself.” He slapped her bottom a second time.

Peering over her shoulder, she saw his facial expression. Familiar, recognisable. His eyes burned with a vicious desire to have her. Understanding his nature, his captivating lust, she knew she was trapped into obeying. She accepted his unfathomable need to possess her to the degree he could be cruel. His grip on her would prevent her from saying no. She had safe-words to fall back on, but they were not the same as being able to stand in front of him with her arms folded and utter a rejecting “no”.

When he returned from his trip home, she had given him defiance and she’d felt justified in making the point to him about her actions in his absence. However, even if he was wrong in his opinion of her behaviour, halting the rhythm and flow of their life together wasn’t an easy undertaking. She still felt a pang of guilt and a sense of having let him down. She would conquer the resistance once again and with it went the “no” word. The option wasn’t there for her as long as they played by the rules of the game they played, their dance.

“Yes, Sir.”

***

“I’m coming!”

Jason covered her mouth with the palm of his hand, stifling her loud groans of joy.

A cathartic orgasm, sprawled across the padded table. As Jason had granted, Maria provided Gemma with the kind of sensual erotic massage she had never experienced in her wildest dreams. The Mexican had massaged her groin, the perineum and folds of her lips. Subtle movements of the fingertips stretched and rubbed the oils deep into her swollen sex. Intensely erotic, the massage fulfilled Gemma’s long awaited wish, and she devoured the climax as it imploded inside, making her bottom buck up and down on the table.

Her body slumped down, and Jason released her mouth. “Oh, heavenly!”

“Leave us, Maria.”

Locking the door behind her, he stripped off his T-shirt and tied it tight around Gemma’s mouth. She bit down on to the cotton, dragged to the foot of the massage table until her tiptoes touched the floor, leaving her fingers holding onto the padded edge of the surface.

“You are so gorgeous, so beautiful,” he murmured, running his finger down her spine, rising and falling over each vertebrae. “All this is mine. My fuck slave to do with as I please.” His sensual tones aroused her from her stupor. “Hold tight, babe. You’re all slippery and smell divinely aromatic and floral. I feel like I’m going to be fucking you in the midst of a rose bed.”

He started slow, lingering deep inside her after each lunge. After driving her wild with his dallying, the sound of her muted begging encouraged him to pick up his pace, and the table rattled with his exertions. He assisted her with a hand, and they came together. He leant over her and kissed the nape of her neck, untying her improvised soggy gag.

“All right?”

“Yes. Very.” Too drowsy to giggle.

Slumped over the table, she watched him adjust his clothing. Holding up the T-shirt, he pointed at the big wet patch in the middle and scowled.

Gemma stood up and stretched, searching about for the rest of her clothes. “Oh, God, I’m sticky icky.” She wiped between her legs with a handful of tissues.

“Messy, dirty girl.” Jason laughed. “I love having my evil way with you. Sinful as it is. Though hell could be quite tempting, bringing a little torture—”

Gemma froze, her own personal image of hell re-activated from her memories, and it was too real for her to stomach.

Jason quickly embraced her. “Sorry. Bad taste.” His words snapped her out of her unpleasant reverie. “Let’s go and have a shower. We’ll have to sneak up there, avoid the crew. I can’t possibly put this T-shirt back on and you, well, look at you. You’re a mess. A truly beautiful mess!”

***

Floating on the surface of the lower deck pool, Gemma drifted in body and mind. Under the baking sun,
Sublime
continued its course up the east coast of Italy. After lunch, Jason had gone out on the powerboat with Lubinsky. When he suggested she go with him, she protested she would be sick. Accepting her reason, Jason had put on his wetsuit. The material hugged the outline of his body, accentuating all his muscles and broad shoulders.

Once aboard the powerboat, the two men shot off northwards at a terrific pace of knots. Gemma had given a wave.

She relocated to the sundeck after her minor exertions in the swimming pool. Wearing shorts and a bikini top, she tried to occupy herself with a sketchpad while lying under a parasol, away from the unbearable heat.

Nearly an hour had passed since her husband’s departure. Peeking through the white rails, she hoped to catch sight of the powerboat. Restless, she couldn’t sit any longer. Pacing up and down, the hour became an hour and an half. She had an ominous feeling in her belly. Her stomach went into knots when McKenzie appeared below on the main deck with his binoculars. She filled with panic when, a few minutes later, he arrived on the sundeck with Ludo Savage.

“It’s probably engine failure, Mrs Lucas. It can happen. End up adrift.”

“But isn’t there a two-way radio on the boat?”

“Er. Yes.”

McKenzie didn’t offer any further reassurances.

Gemma could feel the blood drain out of her face. Sweat pooled under her armpits.

“Captain. The cove!” Savage shouted out from the other side of the sundeck.

Gemma could see the powerboat, drifting in the water some distance from a nearby shoreline. There was nobody on the boat. The water around it, deserted. She felt faint, a terrible light-headedness. Legs wobbled uncontrollably. Maria grabbed her hand to steady her.

“Mrs Lucas, please don’t panic. There is probably an explanation for all of this.” Captain McKenzie headed towards the stairs. “I’ll send the launch to bring the other boat back.”

Fetching one boat with another did nothing for Gemma’s nerves. Her heart pounded, thumping hard against her chest wall. Nausea crept into her throat. Close to throwing up on the deck, she heard Ludo shouting something.

“The beach. There are loads of people waving to us from the beach.” He held the binoculars up to his eyes. “I’m sure I can see your husband, Mrs Lucas.”

Gemma snatched the binoculars from Ludo. The lenses refused to focus correctly, and all she saw was a bleary image of the distant crowd. She twirled the dial around in her finger until she had a clearer image. The remote figures, sharply defined, jumped back at her. The powerful binoculars easily picked out Jason in his wet suit standing next to Lubinsky. The pair were deep in conversation with a uniformed man. Above the beach, nearly lost in the crowds, the blue flashing lights of emergency vehicles. Scanning around, she could see children milling around and a few adults.

Jason appeared unharmed. The nausea didn’t vanish immediately. She didn’t know what had happened. She sat on a sun bed, her legs shaking.

Ludo took the binoculars back. “Wasn’t engine failure. Kevin has got the boat up and running.” He gave a bemused shrug.

“I thought I saw an ambulance.” She bit down on her lip. He looked okay, didn’t he?

“Yes. I can see the provincial police, too. The captain is edging
Sublime
in closer. It looks like Kevin is going out on the motor launch with Nick. They’ll have your husband shortly.” Reaching down, he briefly patted her shoulder.

An eternity passed, at least to Gemma. The motor launch drifting in the shallows, but Jason remained on the beach. She had to wait nearly another hour before he waded out and got into the boat. Heading down to the main deck, she found McKenzie on the bridge, talking on a radio to Kevin.

“What’s been going on?” she asked

“Turns out your husband and Leo have become local heroes. They came into this bay to swim and found some local kids mucking about. They kept their distance, not wanting to risk hitting them with the boat, and then one of the kids got into serious difficulties. Completely out of his depth. Your husband and Leo dived in and kept the boy above the surface. The powerboat drifted away from them, so they swam to shore with the laddie. The police and ambulance were called.”

“Is the boy all right?” Gemma was amazed at the events that had transpired while she lounged about on the sundeck.

“It would appear. Swallowed loads of seawater, so they’ll take him to hospital as a precaution. Looks like the locals are impressed. Turns out the boy is the local mayor’s son.” The captain turned his attention to position
Sublime
ready to receive the launch boat.

Gemma paced by the railings as the launch drew alongside. Jason sprang out of the boat.

“Babe. Don’t cry. I’m fine.” He embraced her trembling body. “We’ve only been gone two hours, not a lifetime.”

“It felt like a lifetime. You said an hour. Then we saw the empty powerboat. Jason, my heart almost gave out.” She shivered against his warm wetsuit. Standing in the sun on the beach had dried him off.

“We had to wait for the yacht to catch up with us. We were sure McKenzie would spot the powerboat, she had drifted almost out of the cove altogether.” He released her from his clutches.

“Look, I have to speak to McKenzie. Go back up and wait for me. I won’t be long. For one thing, I’m sick of this bloody wetsuit.” He gave her a little nudge, encouraging her to let go.

Jason stood in the stateroom and, with Enrique’s help, peeled away the wetsuit. Gemma watched from the bed with her knees drawn up to her chin.

“We’re making good speed. The winds have been in our favour. We are on course for arriving in Croatia.” Jason pulled the T-shirt over his head.

Gemma didn’t fancy eating. She wanted his touch. However, Jason was hungry and ordered food over the intercom. She guessed a strenuous swim to rescue a terrified child had increased his appetite.

“How old was he?”

“Thirteen. Strong currents. Very deceptive. Even I had to swim hard to make it to shore. Leo and I took it in turns to drag him along.”

“I’m really proud of you, Jason.”

“It was…” He hesitated, glancing out the window to the shoreline, then gave a tiny shrug. “Right place at the right time.”

“Would he have died if you weren’t there?”

“Yes.”

“Are you all right?” She touched his hand.

“Yes, babe. Thanks for asking. I’m fine. Unexpected excitement.” He stretched out in the chair, hands tucked behind his head. The cove lay before them, visible through the panoramic window. He didn’t speak further about the adventure.

***

Water dripped from the bath tap. A multitude of glinting bubbles danced about, catching the light, popping with the slightest movement. Gemma leant on Jason’s chest, and he ran his fingers down her belly, resting them on her lap. His fingers then slipped under her bottom and gave her buttock cheeks a momentary squeeze, separating them to allow the water to cleanse her. She groaned—his hands felt sensual and strong. The next place his hands wandered to was her ragged hair, strewn about her face and knotted by sweat.

“Do you want to me to wash your hair?”

“Yes, please.”

“So, how was that lesson?” Jason turned on the taps, and the water shot out of the showerhead, splashing against their skin. “Tip your head back.”

The water cascaded down her back as she sat between his knees. “My legs gave out.”

“I noticed. Poor Maria. You sat on her face.”

“She didn’t complain.” She grinned, recollecting the earlier scene, an educational one intended to improve her sexual versatility. It had ended rather abruptly when Maria’s darting tongue proved too much for Gemma.

“She can breathe through her nose, fortunately. This shampoo?”

“Yes. Your favourite.”

He sniffed the open bottle. “Certainly smells good.” Jason lathered her hair into a white foam.

“What other lessons do you have in mind?”

“It’s time to add some ropes, string you up again. Maybe a zipper or a good hard flogging.”

He rinsed her hair out. Gemma fell silent at the word zipper—it referred to the use of clothes pegs in a line on a piece of string. Pull the string and the pegs snap off in quick succession—a painful and pleasurable combination if done during an orgasm.

Jason wrung her hair out and kissed her neck. “Done. The clothes pegs scare you? We’ve done the zipper several times.”

Gemma stood up and, reaching for a towelling head wrap, bound it about her hair. “We haven’t done it in a while. Sometimes, I forget whether I actually enjoyed it or not. The more pegs you add, the longer they’re on before they come off, and the pain lingers longer. I’m telling you this because you have no idea. What’s your pain threshold like, Jason?”

She wrapped another towel about her chest. A small, enigmatic smile curved his lips. She couldn’t interpret its origins.