by Jaye Peaches
“Just like being at home.” Gemma clambered into position.
Hunkered down between his legs, she kept her eyes on his blissful face and touched his shaft with the tip of her tongue. For a brief while, she forgot about periods and failed conceptions. She had him, and that was sufficient.
***
Jason shut the lid of his laptop. Gemma closed her magazine and glanced up at him from the study floor. She was chaste with him—not surprising, given her period and recovering body. The fading marks littered her torso.
“Things not good with work?” she asked.
Jason sighed and tilted his seat back. “I have this premonition something is about to blow up in my face. The warning signs. I hope it happens when we have finished this holiday. Poor Philip is battling the storm on his own.”
“You pay him well to do it, Jason,” she pointed out. “That’s what your senior execs and VPs are there for. You never switch off completely and let them take the reins. When do we leave Monaco?”
He dispatched a blue-eyed stare at her. “Later today,” he said.
He didn’t say where to. She should be used to his tendency to keep secrets from her, but she couldn’t understand why he was being especially furtive with his plans. She pursed her lips. At least the later departure gave her the opportunity to do her own clandestine activity.
“In that case. May I go shopping? I have a gift in mind for you.” She gave him one of her best faces of supplication—a sweet smile and head cocked to one side.
“Sure. Take Remy and Lubinsky. Obey them as you would me,” he ordered as she picked up her magazines.
***
Before departing, Gemma asked Esteban to help her source the gift she had in mind. He made a few phone calls and recommended a small shop on a back street of Monaco-Ville, the Medieval pedestrian streets popular with tourists.
The shop was an easy walk up into the Medieval quarter. Lubinsky remained a few paces behind her, and Remy led. They weaved passed the tourists, and Gemma stayed sandwiched between her two escorts, not daring for one second to drift away into the crowds or window shop.
Once in the shop, the pair stood back and let her take in the choices available for her to buy. The shop assistant would see Gemma’s wealth in her deportment: the bodyguards, fine jewellery, designer clothes, and her enviable shoes.
“Madame?”
Gemma turned to Remy, and he came over to help with the translation. She gesticulated at various items on the shelves behind the assistant while Remy explained what she sought to buy. The assistant laid out the selection on the countertop. Gemma carefully touched them each in turn, running her tattooed fingers over the surfaces and picking up the smaller items within. She studied each one in detail. Finally, she chose one of the most expensive and asked it be gift wrapped.
Gemma used her private credit card. She paid off this card from her own bank account. She didn’t want Jason to know about the cost. Remy carefully picked up the purchase in both hands, tucking it under his arm.
Having achieved her goal, Gemma took the opportunity to peruse other shops and stores as they descended toward the harbour. She didn’t wander and indicated clearly to Lubinsky which ones she wished to enter. By the time the little group reached the yacht, she had also acquired a deck of playing cards bearing the name of the casino—a memento.
Remy deposited Jason’s gift on the glass table in their stateroom. Jason wasn’t in his study, and Gemma was pleased to find him reclined on a sun bed, resting and listening to music on her iPod. She paused under the mast arch and took in the unusual sight of her husband unoccupied and enjoying music. He wore cut-off jeans and a sleeveless vest. A baseball cap sheltered his face from the glaring sun. The sundeck was swathed in a balmy early summer warmth, and the white yacht reflected the heat back around the deck.
Gemma felt loathed to disturb him, at least not abruptly. She approached quietly and slipped down on to her knees, next to his sun bed. His hand reached out and touched her face. He surprised her with his wakeful blue eyes under the baseball cap. His finger traced down her cheek, under her chin, and around to the back of her neck. Slowly, he drew her towards his face, and she parted her lips for his kiss. A brief touch of moist mouths and he lay back.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” he asked.
“Yes. It’s waiting for you in the stateroom.” She tapped the side of her nose.
He swung his legs round and, taking her hand, helped her stand. “I’m intrigued. Show me.” He led her towards the steps.
***
An oblong box shape, squidgy to touch under the metallic wrapping paper. He guessed the object was thirty or so centimetres at its widest. He lifted the present. Heavier than he had expected. He heard a slight rattling noise. Jason gave her a bemused grin, and Gemma bit her lip.
He ripped off the wrapping to reveal bubble wrap. Removing the protective plastic, he unveiled the ornate gift. Jason gave a gasp of genuine delight. He traced a finger over the exquisite leaf-like decorations on the surface and judged the workmanship to be of high quality. He opened the hinged lid and laid the two sides flat on the table.
“Wow! Gemma, it’s exceptional. Thank you.” He admired the contents of the box.
Gemma breathed a sigh of relief. “Marquetry and inlaid mosaic woodwork made from walnut and birchwood.” She picked up a counter, placing it on a point. “The wooden counters are lacquered. Very sleek and smooth don’t you think?”
“Now we have no excuses for not playing backgammon do we?” He shut the lid carefully. “You bought nothing for yourself? No clothes or jewellery?” He would be surprised if she had refrained from buying something for herself.
Gemma twisted her hands behind her back. “I bought a pack of playing cards.”
He struggled to stay straight-faced. “Seriously, I’m banning you from gambling.” He shook his head. “If I find out you have been on any online gambling websites, I will punish you.”
“Punish me?” she said with a mock expression of horror.
“One strike of the cane for every penny you lose.” Jason folded his arms.
“Penny. Don’t you mean pounds?” she bristled.
“Pennies. My final word on the matter. Stick to cribbage.”
“Permission to sulk, Sir,” she said with a petulant face.
He shook a finger at her. “If you want to be suspended again, babe, I’m sure I can find a better way to entice you into being strung up!”
After a long embrace, he took her to bed and let her touch him with her hands, kiss him, and unzip his fly to repeat the morning’s performance of fellatio. He didn’t mind that she was leading him and directing his body to please both of them. She deserved the reward after giving him such a magnificent gift.
***
After a lunch of cheese, cold meats, and baguettes, Jason received a long-awaited phone call.
“Excellent! We’ll keep an eye out for them,” he said to the caller.
“What?” Gemma asked, wiping her fingers on her napkin.
“Sundeck.” He cocked his head upwards. “Come on.”
Gemma stood, as Jason had told her, by the railings and kept her eyes on the comings and goings of traffic around the marina. There were other opulent yachts to behold then the layers of buildings forming the vista of Monte Carlo. The tall apartment blocks, red tiled roofs, and the rock-faced mountains rising above the principality.
A limousine drew up near the jetty, and two familiar figures climbed out. Gemma couldn’t believe her eyes and whooped a cry of surprise. Hands to her mouth, she leapt up and down, waving frantically.
“John! Andrea! Up here!”
“Oh, my God, Jason. You planned this? You.... Oh, my God!” she shrieked at the pleasure of seeing her brother and his fiancée. She gave her husband an adoring smile of delight.
Jason leant on the railings, arms folded with a wide beaming grin. “An early wedding gift from us both. A weekend on a luxury yacht cruising down the coast
of Italy ending at Naples.”
“I have to go and greet them.” She dashed to the stairwell.
“Don’t run. I don’t want you breaking your neck!” he called after her.
***
“John!” Gemma charged down the gangplank toward her brother and his fiancée.
“That yacht?” exclaimed John. “Surely for two people that’s a huge boat!” Quickly He flung his arms open and gave her a warm embrace. “Gemma. Wow! What can we say!” He grinned at her.
Andrea gave Gemma a small kiss on the cheek. “So good to be here.” She glanced at Gemma’s decorated hands.
“How did you get here?” asked Gemma.
“You don’t know?” said John.
“No. Jason didn’t even tell me you were coming. This is a total shock!”
“What an amazing journey. Private jet from London to Nice and then a helicopter ride to the heliport with a limo ready to pick us up.”
“Jet? I thought it was staying in Malaga. Why that crafty man. He’s had this planned for ages, hasn’t he?” Gemma shook her head in disbelief.
“He swore us to secrecy. Asked us to book a weekend off work and bring suitable clothing for a holiday on a yacht. It’s been so bloody hard keeping my mouth shut.” He laughed.
She tugged his sleeve. “Come on. You won’t believe the interior of this yacht. You’re going to think you’re on a floating palace.”
She showed them the main deck and all its facilities including the VIP compartment. Esteban had allocated them the best of the guest cabins. The chief steward arranged for their luggage to be brought on board and introduced them to a number of the key staff, including the captain.
“You’ve not seen it all yet. Follow me.” Gemma led them to the central stairwell and punched in the key code. “Jason and I have a whole deck to ourselves. The owner’s stateroom and salons.”
Reaching the deck, they spied Jason, who had being waiting patiently for their arrival, rising from one of the armchairs
“I’m gobsmacked.” John shook Jason’s hand. “I mean, when you mentioned a little cruise on your yacht, I had visions of a four berth.... Well, certainly not this!”
John let go of his brother-in-law’s hand, and Jason offered his cheek to Andrea for a brief kiss. Since arriving on the yacht, she had been virtually silent, overwhelmed with awe and incredulity.
“My pleasure, John. Andrea. It’s good to have you aboard. The crew will take good care of you,” said Jason pleasantly. He raised his hand, gesturing to somebody behind him.
Enrique appeared with a tray of champagne glasses. They raised their glasses, clinking them together in a toast of welcome.
Gemma and Jason completed the tour by showing them the stateroom and the sundeck. John wandered about, swigging back his champagne.
“Why don’t you two settle yourselves into your cabin and change into something comfortable. If there is anything you think you need, let Esteban know,” said Jason. “We’ll be leaving Monaco in an hour or so.”
“Yes. A good idea. Come on, Andrea. Let’s unpack a bit.”
John took the still-stunned Andrea by the hand and led her back down the stairwell. Gemma followed.
“This deck is all yours.” Gemma shuffled her feet and fidgeted. A year ago, she and Jason had unintentionally divulged their lifestyle to John and Andrea. She didn’t want to repeat the humiliation or speak again in detail about her submission. The idea filled with her dread “If you want to contact us for anything, use the intercom system or buzz the keypad control. It’s like a private house within the yacht. You do understand Jason and I have our privacy to protect, so our deck is off limits to most of the crew.”
“Of course. We understand, don’t we, John?” Andrea nudged his arm. “We discussed this on the way over.”
John gave a curt nod.
“I don’t want to sound like we’re cold shouldering you. We will use this deck for meals and socialising.” Gemma shuffled backwards. “I’ll leave you to settle in.”
***
Gemma returned to the sundeck and joined Jason where he lay under the canopy. “I told them our deck is out of bounds. That was the right thing to do, wasn’t it, Jason?” she asked, eyes downcast.
“Yes. Good girl. Did they take offence?”
“No. I don’t think so. Andrea is more clued in than my brother. I felt ashamed at excluding him from our deck. You want to keep playing with them on board?”
“Not in their company. At least, not explicitly. It’s not as if they don’t know what we are.” She drew her knees up, feet tapping restlessly. “Look at me.” He tipped her chin up. “I will endeavour not to humiliate you in the presence of your brother. Be respectful, that is all. You’ve got your period, and we should concentrate on other excursions and distractions. Jet Skis, for example?”
“Oh, John would love that.”
He grabbed her hand and drew her to him.
“Sir?” Her fingers clamped around his waist.
“I’m thinking gratitude.” Jason liked to have her in his debt. Since the casino, he’d noted it added to his sense of control over his wife.
“Here, now.” She glanced about. “They’ve only just arrived and—”
He cut her off with a toothy tug on her lower lip. Nothing would change his mind. “Lots of gratitude, Gemma. That’s what I expect.”
They retreated to the privacy of the stateroom, and he leant against the table with his eager wife between his legs, holding his erection in her hands. Today was definitely about oral gratification. As she gagged, spurted, and slurped on his long shaft, she rattled off plenty of thank yous and you’re-a-wonderful-Master type comments. He could barely make out her stuttering words as she drooled and sucked hard.
Holding her head in place, he could sense the impending orgasm. This one would be all his, and she would have to wait for hers on another occasion—not that she seemed to mind. Her eyes latched onto his face, and there was definitely an expression of endearing gratefulness written on it. A pity she had her period, he could have gotten so much more out of her if she had been available below the waistline. There was always tomorrow, and he would put her to good use then.
Chapter 14. The Chaperone
As they sailed towards Genoa, the kind sea helped Gemma’s brother and girlfriend find their sea legs. The crew brought drinks, fruit, and small pastries to the aft of the main deck where their guests could take in the view. Another woman had joined the crew shortly before departure. The extra steward was appointed to help with food preparation and serving the newly arrived couple’s needs.
Gemma thought the crew was in high spirits. They grinned at each other and chatted quietly in the background. Extra guests meant entertainment and relief from the boredom of routine maintenance tasks. She and Jason had been very reclusive and rarely bothered to venture out of their private domain.
The new steward, Jada, helped Esteban lay out the plates on the table. Gemma sucked on a segment of orange, listening to John and Andrea chat. Jason picked at a bunch of grapes, tugging the fruit free of the vine with a finger and thumb.
“I had no idea it was going to be this grand.” Andrea fingered her sleeve. “I didn’t bring enough nice clothes.”
Jason watched Andrea try to snatch off a frayed cotton end from her sleeve. “Don’t worry. We should be in Genoa early evening. Gemma can take you shopping. I’m sure you girls would enjoy the adventure.” He smiled as Andrea’s face lit up, and she let go of the cotton thread.
“Brilliant idea, Jason. I can treat Andrea.” Gemma tossed the orange peel on her plate.
Andrea’s cheeks reddened. “Please. Don’t. We’re being spoilt rotten as it is.”
“No, I insist. Looking good, feeling good. That’s my motto,” said Gemma, drumming her hands on her lap with excitement.
“An expensive motto, John,” commented Jason.
By late afternoon, they arrived in Genoa. The routine of docking the yacht was familiar to Gemma, but not her brot
her and girlfriend. The visitors watched Sublime drift into its berth at a sedate pace, while Gemma took her husband to one side to discuss the evening’s plans.
“We’re dining on shore tonight. Italian cuisine.”
“Pizza?” She smacked her lips together, pretending to scoff a mouthful.
“No.” Jason gave a despairing shake of his head. “Top-notch fish restaurant. Not very grateful for my culinary extravagances, are you?”
“The shopping trip?” she asked, deflecting the conversation.
“Lubinsky will go with you. You’ll have to be quick. They will be closing for the evening soon.” Jason checked his watch. “You can meet us at the restaurant.”
Andrea halted in her tracks when she saw Lubinsky alongside Gemma on the quayside. “Is he necessary, Gemma?” she asked quietly.
“Yes. I don’t have a say, either, so best accept the situation. Jason would point out Italian gangs that like to kidnap the wealthy, so best not wander off.”
A short taxi ride took them to the boutiques Esteban, in his wisdom, had recommended—high-priced, fashionable, and filled with designer clothing.
Gemma bounced in and out of the shops. At home, she employed a couple of dress designers who catered to her personal tastes. Well-versed in the latest trends, she walked down the aisles, checking the stock. “Nope. Wrong colour. Not the right cut for you. Try this and this.”
She pulled clothes off the rails and handed them to the stunned Andrea, who gawped at the price tags and the materials. Buried under a pile of dresses, skirts, and tops, her future sister-in-law headed towards the fitting room.
Gemma waited outside as Andrea paraded in and out, twirling.