by Daphne Clair
Jason regarded her frowningly. 'You must have had some reason,' he said,
'some sort of basis for this belief of yours.'
'Not really. Just a general impression '
'From where? Certainly not from me!'
'Those company dinners you dragged me to,' she said. 'From the innuendoes that some of the men made in conversation, I suppose. It seemed commonly known that the conferences, the trips, aren't simply matters of business.'
'Salesmen!' Jason said contemptuously. 'Young idiots, half of them, showing off their so-called, sophistication. And you listened to that kind of stupid talk, and thought it applied to me?'
'It seemed that it applied to pretty well everyone. Why should you be an exception?'
His mouth twisted bitterly. 'Why indeed?' He turned abruptly away from her, his head dipping as he applied his fingers to the back of his neck, kneading it as though to relieve aching muscles. When he looked at her again, lifting his head, his hand still rested there. 'Why?' he repeated. 'My God, we've been married for eight years, and you don't know the first thing about me, do you?'
'Do you know the first thing about me?' she retorted.'
'Apparently not.' He paused. 'I asked you a question before,' he said. 'You didn't answer.'
'What question?'
'Why don't you want a divorce? Why don't you want to be with your lover?'
'You—didn't give me much chance to answer.'
'Stop hedging,' he said after a moment when she stood with her eyes on the ground, her fingers twined in the satin rope. 'You are in love with him, aren't you?'
It wasn't a question that she had asked herself, and she was strangely shocked by it.
'Aren't you?' Jason repeated, his voice hardening.
Catherine said, 'No, I don't think so.'
'You don't think so?' he said sarcastically. 'Oh, great! Well, what the hell is the attraction—sex?'
'Not sex,' she said positively. 'He's attractive, of course—but that was almost incidental. No—he's gentle and kind, and I was upset, and—it just happened.'
It must have sounded lame, she knew. As an excuse it was hopeless, as a reason—inadequate in retrospect.
'Why were you upset?' Jason asked harshly.
She almost smiled, a pale, rather bitter smile. Chiefly because of you,' she admitted. 'Because of what's been happening to our marriage.'
'Perhaps you'd like to expand on that.'
'Oh, for heaven's sake, Jason! You must know what I mean. We've scarcely been close recently, have we?'
'You've scarcely wanted it, have you?'
'What—what do you mean?'
'You know what I mean!' he said curtly. 'You haven't exactly been welcoming my advances lately.'
'You haven't exactly been making any advances lately!' she accused him.
'Not for months! Until—' Until that coldly calculated lovemaking the other night.
'You'd made it abundantly clear that you weren't interested,' he said. 'How long do you think a man can go on asking when a woman is obviously reluctant? I got sick of begging for crumbs.'
i was tired,' she said feebly. 'That's all.'
'Not too tired to take on a job. And not too tired for Russel Thurston, apparently.'
She winced, and he said, 'All right! I'm sorry—I can't help it. Everything comes back to that. I told you I can't just forget it. It keeps eating at me.'
She said, softly, 'Jason ---' and took a step towards him, a hand going tentatively out to him.
'I told you,' he said harshly, 'don't look at me like that!'
'The way I look at Jenny and Michael when they're hurt? I look at them that way because I love them.', His mouth went tight. 'That isn't the kind of loving I want, Catherine. Don't offer it to me.'
She stopped, her hand dropping to her side. 'What do you want, Jason?'
'I want a willing, passionate partner, not a wife doing her duty. Or a woman who's salving her conscience.'
'I wonder if you want me at all,' she sighed.
'Just because I take no for an answer from you, don't kid yourself that I don't want you. Sometimes it's been all I could do to stop myself from stripping you and taking you anyway, no matter how "tired" you pretended to be.'
A peculiar sensation of excitement stirred in her stomach. A smile hovered provocatively at the corner of her mouth. 'Well, darling,' she said, 'perhaps you shouldn't have taken no for an answer so easily.'
Jason's eyes narrowed on her face, and his body seemed to tense. 'Are you telling me,' he said slowly, 'that I should have raped you?'
'Not exactly,' she said. 'But—there have been times when you might have been a little more— forceful.'
He stared at her for a long moment, before a lather frightening light came into his eyes. 'Right!' he muttered grimly, and moved so suddenly that she instinctively turned, poised for flight.
He caught her before she had gone two steps, his hand jerking her arm so that she gave a small cry of pain and fear. The next moment he had swung her off her feet in his arms, and she was protesting, half laughing and half afraid, 'Jason! I didn't mean ---'
'Shut up!' he snarled at her. 'You asked for this.'
He silenced her with a short, bruising kiss on her mouth, and then she was tossed on the bed and he was wrenching away the tie belt of his robe as she sat up, gasping, 'Jason, don't!'
'I told you to keep quiet,' he muttered, throwing off the robe, and one hand pushed her back on the pillows as he came down beside her, sliding his hand from her shoulder down to the crook of her elbow and holding her still.
'Please ---' she panted, trying to stave him off with one hand on his chest.
'Don't ask me to be gentle,' he said harshly, his ryes glittering. 'I don't feel gentle. I don't feel kind. I want to make love to you so thoroughly l hat you'll cry for mercy. I want to imprint myself on you so deeply that you won't even remember Ins name. I'm going to erase every memory your body has of him. I won't have you confusing me with him. I won't—be gentle.'
Catherine shivered, her tongue moistening dry lips as she stared back, mesmerised by the blaze in his eyes, the bitter promise in his voice. 'Well, at least,' she whispered feebly, 'can't you please turn out the light?'
His sudden laughter was totally unexpected, and at the sound of it she went weak with relief. 'Does. it bother you?' he asked, almost tolerantly.
it's too bright.'
The amusement hadn't banished his angry passion, but it had tempered it.
'Okay,' he said. 'Don't move.'
'She watched him walk over to the switch by the door, noticing the way the muscles in his haunches tautened as he moved, the way his slight tan stopped abruptly just below waist level, and how long and sensitive his fingers looked as he reached for the switch and flicked it off.
In the darkness his image was still printed on her mind, and she watched his shadowy figure as he returned to her, and stretched her arms over her head and her toes towards the bottom of the bed,i her heart thumping with a strange, pleasurable dread.
Jason sat on the side of the bed and snapped on the bedside lamp on the night table beside her. Catherine blinked up at him, caught in a seductive pose, her lips parted in anticipation.
His smile was tight. Before she could move he had swooped one hand down behind her nape and lifted her easily against him. His mouth covered hers, and he kissed her as though he expected resistance, ruthlessly.
She yielded to it for several minutes, but as his fierceness continued, she became indignant and began to struggle. Jason took no notice at first,' but after a few moments he lifted his head and looked down at her mutinous face, his mouth curving in a slow smile. 'Go on,' he said softly. 'Fight me.'
Incredulously, she said, 'Do you want me to?'
'I want this to be nothing like it was with him.'
Catherine swallowed nervously. Her heart was hammering, and there was a choking, fluttering sensation in her throat.
He tipped her head back, his fingers tu
gging at her hair, and his lips burned at her throat.
With an effort she protested, 'You're hurting me!'
'So?' he drawled, his voice muffled against the warmth of her skin.
Too incensed to notice that in spite of the taunting comment he had immediately released her hair and raised his head, she reacted with blind anger, fighting him in earnest, aiming for his face with her hands curled into fists.
He caught them, laughing at her, and thrust her back on the bed, flushed with temper and glaring at him helplessly.
'Let me go or I'll scream!' she promised.
'Fine.' Almost casually, he released her hands and with one swift movement tore open the front til her nightgown and pulled the ruined fabric down, sliding the straps from her arms.
She did let out an involuntarily, strangled shriek, and he said, 'Scream away, and bring my mother and the children running to see what's happening.' His grim smile held more than a hint of devilment.
Of course she couldn't do that. She caught frantically at the torn pieces of the gown, trying to rover herelf, but in seconds Jason had her wrists held securely in one hand, while the other turned her head and held it and he kissed her again. Even lis she tried to escape, a hot sweet tide of desire was coursing through her body, and when his hand slipped to her breast, teasing it into rising excitement, she shuddered and moaned.
He tore his mouth from hers and bent to see what he had done, and as he closed his lips about the evidence of her desire, she pushed her fingers into his hair, holding him to her.
But even as she arched her body in ecstasy, his' mouth left her, and he brought her hand down to her side, holding it there. His eyes traversed her body, as he lay with his head propped on one hand. Trying to spread her free hand across her breasts, she said faintly, 'Don't!'
Jason laughed softly. 'You absurd little prude!' He pushed away her hand, and his lips brushed her lightly, nibbling at her, keeping the dusky centres hard and erect.
His hand wandered across her midriff to her stomach. He probed the slight hollow of her navel with his thumb, then moved lower to encounter] the remnant of blue satin that clung about her! hips. When he made to dispense with it, she wriggled away from his grasp, and stretched out a hand to the switch of the bed lamp.
Raising his head, Jason ordered, 'Leave it.'
'No.' Her fingers touched the switch, but before she could press it his hand snaked out and captured her wrist.
She hit out at him with her other hand, and tried to reach across with it to the light. He caught that, too, and she wailed, 'Jason, please! '
'No!' he said violently. 'Not in the dark. Not this time. When you open your eyes, you're going toj see me. No one else. Me.'
'Then I'll damn well shut my eyes!'
He laughed again. 'You do that, sweetheart. If you can.'
He had to release her hands to ease off the nightgown, and she made him fight for every inch of it.
Her emotions were a kaleidoscope, a crazy brilliant mix of anger and fear and an intense, potent exhilaration. Even though Jason's fingers were hard on her wrists, his mouth almost cruelly abrasive on her skin, she knew he had no intention of really hurting her. And though she felt a thrill of satisfaction when her palm connected with his cheek before he subdued her flailing hand, or her closed fist thudded against the hard muscle of his shoulder, she took a strange pride in the way he brushed off the pain, and she revelled in the strength of his hands as he held her off, in the sweet violence of his reprisals, the punitive kisses he inflicted on her lips and on her body. Once she sank her teeth into the fleshy part of his hand, stopping when she realised that a little more pressure would break the skin and bring blood. As she paused, his eyes met hers, and she drew back, her wide gaze held by his steady grey stare.
Jason smiled and pulled her close, then his mouth exacted a punishment that made her moan and clutch at him, silently begging for the culmination of this strange combat.
But although she knew that his body, like hers, was throbbing with need, he deliberately tantalised her, withholding himself while he brought her to a pitch of pleasure that was so intense it was like pain. When she felt that she must go over the top, no stopped, letting her slide suddenly away from the peak, so that she attacked him again in frustration, sobbing, swearing at him for engaging in a cruel game.
'You closed your eyes,' he said sternly, 'Don't close your eyes.'
She tried to hit him again, helpless against his strength, and he whispered,
'Shh, shh. It's all right.' He came over her and into her in one swift, sudden movement, and immediately she went soaring straight into spasms of incredible pleasure, that went on and on until she thought she would faint with delight.
She heard Jason give a husky laugh, and he put his hand gently over her mouth, because she was shrieking softly, breathily, unable to stop. Then she felt him shudder against her and knew that they had finally reached the peak together.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
She ached slightly all over, as though she had been climbing mountains, using unaccustomed muscles. But a delicious lassitude pervaded every limb, making them heavy, soft, unwilling to move.
Jason lay on his back, his body in an attitude of arrogant abandon and utter content, his arm cradling her shoulders, and her head nestled below his chin.
Catherine felt his chest rise and fall beneath her cheek in a long, satisfied sigh. His voice slightly slurred, he asked softly, 'All right?'
'Yes.' She moved her head a little to press a kiss on the bare skin of his chest. 'You've never made love to me like that before.'
The arm holding her tensed slightly. After a moment he said, 'I did once, and you acted the next morning as though you'd been raped. How was I to know you like it rough?'
'I don't!' she protested.
'You can't tell me you didn't enjoy yourself just now. You made it very obvious.'
She knew she had, and the knowledge was embarrassing. She turned her face against him and muttered, 'Don't!'
'What's the matter? You're acting as though it's something to be ashamed of.' He shifted, moving sideways and pushing her chin up with his hand so that he could look down at her face. 'Admit that you liked it.
'Yes, I liked it,' she said. 'But I wouldn't want it to be that way every time.
It—it shocks me, a bit.'
'Why? We're married. We both had a fantastic time. No one got hurt. What's shocking about that?'
'I don't know. It's just so—so basic—so violent. It's—animal.'
'We are animals. But we're intelligent beings, too. You're afraid, aren't you?
Afraid of a part of your own nature. Don't be. It's there for you to use and enjoy just like every other part of your being. So you don't want it that way every time. Fine—neither do I. Lovemaking for humans isn't just instinct, it's enhanced by planning and variety—and by loving each other in so many ways that have nothing to do with sex—or very littlfe.'
'Yes, but—like that? It felt so—uncontrollable.'
'Why should that be bad? To let go now and then—it's a human need. The time and the place chosen beforehand, there's nothing wrong about it.
Look,' He held his hand up in front of her, and she winced as she saw the marks of her teeth clearly printed on his skin.
She turned her head away, closing her eyes, and he said, 'Don't be ashamed. That's proof, if you like, that no one had lost control. You might have taken a chunk out of my hand, but you didn't. You stopped before it went that far. And I haven' left bruises on you, have I?'
She shook her head, aware that, surprisingly, it was true.
'Well, stop worrying, then. There are other ways, but there's no good or bad way, no good, better, best, for that matter, just different ways for different people, different moods, different circumstances.'
He was stroking her hair, his hand softly separating the strands and letting them float back to her shoulder. Then his fingers probed lightly behind her ear, and began to caress her back, moving ove
r her skin along the line of her spine to her waist and then returning to her nape.
Catherine nestled close to him, her lips against his chest, moving drowsily, tasting the slight saltiness of his skin.
She was almost asleep, and made no other effort to respond to his increasingly insistent caresses. She felt the stirring of his body against her bare thigh, and he shifted, lifting her higher against him, whispering, 'Shall I let you go to sleep? Do you want me to stop?'
Faintly, she shook her head. 'Don't stop,' she murmured. 'It's—nice.'
It was totally different. For a long time Jason adored her with his hands and his lips, his touch almost feather-light, sensitising her skin so that she tingled pleasantly all over. She lay totally passive, letting him move her limbs where he wanted, and turn her head to his gentle kisses—soft, tantalising kisses that barely brushed her lips, but lingered persuasively until his mouth was drawn to some Irresistible part of her body.
She expected no more than this delightful plateau of dreamy bliss, but when he took possession at last, with slow, deliberate, coaxing movements, she discovered she was still capable of arousal. Her eyes opened in stunned awareness as fierce delight washed over her in wave after wave, and her arms rose above her head, her hands clenching in ecstasy and then opening like flowers against the pillow as Jason gave a low growl of triumph and spilled his seed into her.
He woke her in the morning with a kiss, and when she opened her eyes she discovered he was already dressed, bending over the bed with one hand on the pillow beside her, the other touching her cheek. He looked handsome and refreshed and rather pleased with himself.
'Oh, what time is it?' she asked him, struggling up on the pillows.
He laughed and said, 'Time to get up. The kids have been up for ages.'
'Oh, heavens!' Catherine pushed back her tumbled hair, grabbing at his wrist to squint at his watch. 'Why didn't you wake me?'
'Because you looked too beautiful to wake. Like Venus rising from waves.'
She had slept naked, and the sheet had slipped to her waist. Hastily she pulled it up over her, her eyes indignant as he laughed again, watching.