Trust Me to Know You (14 page)

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Authors: Jaye Peaches

BOOK: Trust Me to Know You
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“Gem, are you awake,” he shook my shoulder.

“Yes, sir,” I replied dreamily.

“Come on your turn to clean up,” Jason pulled me up and I staggered to the shower. He watched me from the doorway as I cleansed my private parts, water cascading over my rather ravished body. Coming out I wrapped a robe around me. He had slipped back into his trousers.

“The sheets go in there,” he pointed to a basket in the corner of the bathroom. “You’ll wash everything we use with those,” he pointed to the bottles on the shelf above the sink.

“Once you’ve done, come to bed, you look shattered,” grinned Jason as he walked out of the door, leaving me to tidy up.

 

 

Chapter 8

 

Waking up the next morning, I was incredibly stiff and achy. I lay eyes shut, flat on my tummy for a while, willing myself to move. I could sense those blue eyes on me, drilling down into my flesh. I turned my head to face Jason, he was
sitting
up resting against the heard rest, eyes on me as I suspected. He pulled back the sheet to reveal his erection
, wordlessly he grabbed my arm and dragged me towards him. I crawled up to him on my knees.

“Come, astride me, I want to see those gorgeous breasts of yours,” he flicked a nipple with his index finger.

I lowered my pelvis on to his cock
while he held my waist. I was not fully ready for him and my
pussy
struggled to expand around his substantial erection. I bit my lip as I sunk lower and lower, adjusting the angle of my body to aid my descent. He gave me no assistance, merely held my body as I squirmed into position. Ready, we started to move in tandem, more familiar with each other than ever. He tipped his head back and shut his eyes, lips pressed tight together suppressing sounds. I gripped the headboard by his head and built up a pace for him, he must have been close because his eyes were open and he was watching me carefully. Reaching for
me,
he took my nipples and began to squeeze before twisting them round. I cried out in pain, the sensation was not unwanted as it made my insides start their somersaulting trick.

“Gem,
oh Gem,
” moaned Jason seductively.

He did not
stop pulling and twisting, cruelly using me. There were tears in my
eyes and I did not want him to stop this exquisitely painful torment.

Slap
!

He struck hard across my left breast with his palm and I gasped, head tilted back, pushing my breasts further out. Jason face looked increasingly feral. A
deep need was coming to the surface, the need to give me pain. I would take it, use it and show him I was capable of being his recipient. He would control me through my desire for pain and pleasure. He repeatedly smacked and twisted my nipples, I was close to crying all out for him, but I
did not
stop offering my breasts to him. I jutted them out further and tossed my head back to hide my watery eyes. I wa
s saved by his ferocious orgasm. He pulled me on top of his chest as his pelvis thrust into me.


Now
, come for me!” he demanded hissing in my ears.

The sound of his dominating voice brought me to my much needed climax. Panting and shaking on his lap, I collapsed in a heap on top of him.


Off
!”

He heaved me to one side,
extracting himself from inside me.
I could hear him peeing in the bathroom. He had told me he did not do golden showers, which relieved me no end, as I was not entirely sure I could tolerate them – an untested territory for me.
I hoped he finished in there soon as I was desperate for a pee. I dashed in the moment he reappeared, practically knocking him off his feet in my haste. When I came
back, he had put on his sweat pants and t-shirt.

“Are your tits really sore?” he asked as he pulled on his socks.

“I’ll survive,” I said touching my breasts and then I grinned at him. “Nice sore, you know what I mean?”

“Good, I’m going for a run for half an hour. Have breakfast ready for me when I get back,” he stood and taking my naked body in his arms hugged me, planting a kiss on head.

“Mmmmm. You smell of sex. I love that smell.”

Letting go of me, I received a momentary smile and then he was out of the bedroom door.

The morning disappeared quickly after breakfast as I worked my way through the newspaper in the conservatory and he looked at the morning correspondence that the postal worker had brought. I mentally pictured his front door for a moment.

“Jason, you don’t have a letter box?” I queried.

Jason looked bemused by my comment.

“Well rather pointless, postman can’t deliver up here, wouldn’t get past
the gate. He drops them off at the gatehouse and one of the guys brings them up and leaves them in the hallway. Same with the newspaper. Which reminds me, don’t go trooping around in the nude in the hallway, I don’t want them seeing you like that if they are dropping anything off for me,” he spoke sternly.

“I will ensure I’m well covered up, sir,” I smiled and returned to the literary review section of the newspaper.

“I won’t be here for lunch. I have an informal business meeting to attend,” Jason was looking at his watch as he spoke.

“Oh, right,” I wondered what I was going to be doing if he was going to be busy all day.

“Do you drive?” he asked me.

Jason put his letters to one side and turned to face me. I reciprocated and dropped my newspaper on the floor.

“Yes, of course. I don’t have a car, no point when living in a city.”

“I’ll arrange for you to have a car at your disposal here, in the meantime one of the drivers can take you out and about if you like.”

My face must have looked confused and he frowned at me.

“Am I going somewhere?” I asked puzzled.

“Jeez, Gemma, you’re not a prisoner here. I assumed you would like to, you know, do stuff instead of sitting around here on your bum all day,” he sounded impatient with me.

My mouth formed one of those ‘O’ shaped expressions.

“Yes, o
h silly goldfish girl. There are some pretty villages around
here. A few have little boutiques and the like.”

He slapped his thighs as if the matter was dealt with and stood up stretching his arms.

“Thank you. I didn’t, I mean,” I stumbled over my words, “I assumed that you would have plans for me during the day.”

“What sex?” Jason looked down at me surprised. “I like a good fuck, but, Gemma, I’m not a machine, a man needs to rest,” he joked.

“No I meant, you know jobs, tasks, that sort of thing,” I blushed crimson and looked at my feet.

Jason threw his head back with laughter.

“Oh good grief. No. Did you think I would have you scrubbing floors or polishing the silver in the nude or something? I’m not that kind of dom.
I have cleaners for fuck sake. Well if you did servitude stuff in the past, you can forget it. You’re my
submissive, my sexual submissive and not a slave, you don’t need to prove anything to me by debasing yourself about my house. Go enjoy yourself,” he shook his head in amusement.

I could not stop myself and threw my body into his arms.

“You’re the best ever,” I beamed at him, hugging him around his narrow waist. He patted my back affectionately.

“Go, off me. I have stuff to do.”

Jason pushed me away, for a moment I could see his embarrassment. The look was fleeting as instantly the serious Jason was back in command.

“Be back at five o’clock at the latest or they’ll be consequences.” The wonderful controlling voice had returned, it made me melt.

“Yes. Sir.”

The idea of consequences sounded almost too tantalising.

I took up his offer and I nervously rang the gatehouse extension number.

“Uh. I need a lift... a car,” I stuttered down the phone.

“Johnson will come up to the house for you, Miss Marshall. Do you wish to leave now?”

“Ten minutes.”

“Very good, miss.”

I put the phone down and danced around in circles. I was going to be chauffeured around like royalty. Wow, my life was heading to cloud nine direct.

Johnson, who turned out to be the young security guard I met in the house, knew a few of the local villages well and suggested one in particular. It had a farm shop and I fancied buying fresh vegetables to cook something different for Jason. He parked the Jaguar up by the village green – mentally I wondered how many Jags Jason had in his possession because I was sure I waved him off in one
earlier
. The day was pleasant, weather dry and there was a slight breeze. I strolled over to the churchyard and perused the names on the gravestones. They lived such short lives, difficult times for many. I was lucky to be
living in this century.

The church was small and quaint, a typical village church with mixed architecture added over the centuries. I was surprised to find that the carved oak door was unlocked. Lifting the heavy catch I ventured inside, my heels echoing around the stone walls. I perched on a pew at the front of the nave, looking at the cross on the altar. The inside of the church was simple. A few memorial plaques and tarnished wooden pews with worn hassocks scattered under the seats
.
I had the impression the congregation was small and church funds were insufficient.

I was not religious, though I did not
know if I was an atheist, an agnostic maybe. I wondered what God woul
d make of my lifestyle choices. W
ould he see them as sinful, decadent? Perhaps
it
explained my ambivalence to religion. I
did not
think I would be comfortable with the answer a priest might give me. Woul
d Jason marry in a church? No. I could not
imagine that happening. Would he marry me? I dismissed the idea, he
had not even used the love word, and a romantic connection was not going to happen. Slightly disheartened I left the cold church and headed back into the sun.

The sunrays warmed my skin and with a renewed purpose to my steps. I went to find the farm shop Johnson raved about.

 

***

 

“Ummm, this is delicious, Gemma, really good. Fresh vegetables?”

Jason was genuinely enjoyed my vegetable curry. He cleared his plate quickly and had seconds. I was back in my cloud nine,
my dominant was happy, a sub’s mission accomplished.

“Did your meeting go well?” I asked trying to strike up a conversation at the dining table.

“Yes, thank you. I was meeting one the company lawyers. Sometimes it is easier to progress things out of the office. Fewer distractions,” he heaped a pile of rice on his plate.

“You studied law didn’t you?” I recollected from one of our earlier conversations.

“Yes, at Oxford,” he said between chews.

“But you didn’t become a lawyer?” I ventured further, he was being very open.

“Did not appeal to me. Courts, criminals? Not my style
. In any
case, I specialised in commercial law. I had already planned to set myself up in business. Being able to get my head round legal documents, contracts, helped me build my business quicker,” he swallowed a mouthful of wine. “Also cheaper on lawyers.”

I smiled at his comment.
No, I could not
imagine Jason Lucas QC. He would be bored by the formality of courts and probably
would not take kindly to judges being in charge.

“You studied business and computing?” he asked.

I was sure he already knew the answer to this question, he knew far more about me than I did about him.

“Yes, joint degree, seemed a wise choice at the time. I enjoyed the computing more than the business side,” I started toying with my food as I was rather full.

“I’ve seen your love affair with your laptop,” Jason reminded me of our first time alone.

Tentatively I broached the subject that was bothering me.

“You said you would find me a new job, to take up after I quit your company?” I dared to catch Jason’s blue eyes.

He pushed his empty plate away leant back in the chair he looked at me, face impassive.

“Yes I did. I’ve put out preliminary inquiries. There is nothing out there at the moment, maybe in a month’s time, there could be opportunities.”

“A month!” I exclaimed.

“Patience, Gemma,” he leant forward taking my hand in his.

“I was hoping,” I ventured further. “We could start getting out, you know, out of the house. Go places, the theatre, concerts or clubs whatever. Not cooped up in your house all the time. I want to enjoy myself with you more.”

He let go of my hand. I had contravened the boundaries again, his expression said it all.


I said
patience. That’s the end of the matter. It is not up for discussion. I decide, remember. In any case the anticipation will make you enjoy it all the more when it comes about.”

The conversation was over. I started to collect the plates and cutlery.

“Well, I’m stuffed. Too stuffed.”

Jason patted his stomach, which did not look the slightest bit overfilled. Where did he put it all?

“I think I will get indigestion if I fucked you now. Was that your intention? Too fat to fuck?” he growled at me.

“No, sir, absolutely not. More a case of plenty of calories to give you energy,” I leered and he reached out to slap my thigh as I passed by him.

“Cheeky. Finish tidying up and join me in the TV room. We’ll watch a film, allow our stomachs to recover.” Jason stood up and strolled out of the kitchen heading to the TV room, glass of wine in hand.

By the time I joined him, he was scrolling through a menu of streaming films
. I
joined him on the comfortable expansive couch rather than an armchair
. It turned out we
had similar tastes in films. We both preferred adventure plots or thrillers and witty comedies rather than slapstick ones. We selected a mild horror film and settled down to watch. I snuggled up to him and he accommodated me with an arm around my shoulders. It all felt so normal, not what I had expected for a Saturday night. The film was scarier than I thought it would be and a couple of times I buried my face in his chest to hide.

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