Trust Me to Know You Page 4

  “Come, Gemma.” A command, not a request.

  Chapter 4

  So there I was lying on his bed and he was taking off my stockings. Rolling them down slowly and trailing a finger behind to tickle me. He leaned across me now, hands on either side of me head. His blue eyes pinning me down, a little end of day blonde stubble visible on his chin.

  “I’m thirty-one years old, Gemma, I’ve had plenty of girlfriends, lovers or whatever you want to call them,” said Jason softly. “I work hard and play hard. Such a life doesn’t attract long term relationships, not conventional ones,” he traced a finger down my face, igniting me further.

  What did all that mean? Was tonight just a one-night stand? I was too fired up to query his comment.

  “Sure, Jason,” I was saying his name. Up to then, I had not even said his name to his face. I relished it in my mouth - Jason Lucas.

  Then he started. His lips, tongue, fingers were everywhere. Kneading, nibbling, squeezing, licking and oh my kissing my neck. I held his head in my hands. I was not use to this kind of freedom, to explore him with my own sensual touch. His hair was blonde at the ends with darker roots. A scrupulous short style with the hair laying thick across his scalp.

  “There is no bald patch, Gemma. If that’s what you’re looking for.”

  I flinched and pulled my hands back. His face was amused though.

  “I’m not contagious you know,” he said kindly.

  I returned my hands to their own special exploration. This time those muscular shoulders warranted my attentions. He obviously worked out with weights, his biceps bulged and his pectorals were gorgeously defined. Yet he managed to stay lean and trim, especially his waistline. All his stunning physique was hidden away behind his suits and shirts. What girl would not find him heart meltingly attractive and he was beneath my hands.

  My bra was pulled down and my nipples teased as he pulled his teeth on them. I groaned loudly as he sucked them hard before circling his tongue around each one in turn. Then he eased one hand down the front of my knickers and I knew he liked what he found. I could not stop the juices flowing down there.

  “You are one wet girl,” laughed Jason and started to move his head down to investigate me closely.

  I giggled back at him. “Can’t think why!” Mentally and physically I fired my body up and was ready to go for him.

  My knickers were pulled down and he parted my thighs.

  Oooo! His tongue was precise and knowledgeable. I wriggled and writhed, my surrender slipping further into his hands. Jason lifted his head up. Keeping me in his gaze the whole time he pulled my knickers down and off, flicking them over his shoulder. I shrieked as he buried his head between my legs, tongue flicking away at my swollen clitoris.

  Oh my, oh my! He knew what he was doing.

  Not yet, not yet and I dug deep to my inner resolve to stop my orgasm coming too soon. Lifting himself off the floor, I shifted back further on the bed and he sat astride me. His erection was growing and already quite spectacular, big boss! I laughed silently. My bra was snapped off from behind my back with a ping followed quickly by his strong hands caressing and plumping my breasts. He had a wicked kind of smile on his face.

  “I warn you when I say fuck hard I mean it. If you want me to stop say so and I will, OK? You can trust me.”

  I nodded eagerly. Little does he know, rough was my middle name. Trust, well that had taken a knock in the recent past, but I had a good feeling about Jason Lucas. Nothing he had done so far had alarmed me.

  A finger slid inside me and I practically exploded. In and out he fucked me with his finger. My back arched and I made those panting gasps that women driven to the edge make. Two fingers now, working in tandem, and I was begging him silently to do the deed.

  I opened my eyes and he was looking down at me, watching me as if I was under a microscope. Nothing on his face about his own emotional state. I hoped he would show me his pleasure as I did not want our sexual romp to be one sided. I wanted so much to please him. The fingers stopped and he nudged the tip of his cock at my entrance, continuing his teasing and then he pushed my legs further apart with his own and I lifted my pelvis up to welcome him. I sucked my breath in as he took me with his full length with one almighty thrust. Holding my breath, I consumed him inside me - stretching and giving as much as my tense body would allow.

  “OK?” Jason paused for a moment.

  I nodded – yes, yes just get on with it, hardly believing the strength of my lustful desires. He rested his elbows next to my head and I drew my legs and wrapped them around him. He started to pound me and I took his entire length deep inside me. I was gasping as he energetically took me to my threshold of endurance. At the same time, I was aroused to the point of desperation. He breathed fast and quietly as he fucked me. No -pummelled me. He meant hard and he was serious about his style of intercourse. My body shook underneath and my tender breasts were jellies cast out of their moulds, wriggling vigorously for his delight.

  His eyes were always on me, watching my face as I expressed the strength of emotion growing within me. I could not resist the opportunity to show him my abilities. I squeezed him hard and pulsated my own actions in time with his own.

  “God, you’re gorgeous and tight down here,” he muttered appreciatively.

  Finally, he showed me his own enthusiasm in a way he could not have possibly known would fire up my libido so successfully. He grabbed a handful of my hair with one hand and the other the flesh around my waist and dragged me closer to his rampant body. Using my body as leverage, he maintained his relentless pursuit of my innards. My chin was practically on my chest as he hauled me on to him by my locks of hair and I could see his impressive manhood slide in and out of me. The visual stimulus was stunning and the kind of erotic view I loved to enjoy. He had promised me enjoyment and amongst his rough sex, I was certainly being entertained.

  My own hands clenched the sheets, I could not bring myself to touch him, convinced the bubble would burst and he would abandon me. I twisted the smooth fabric around in my hands as I pushed down to meet his thrusts. Incredible warmth coursed through my pulsating blood vessels and his skin brushed over mine adding to the heat.

  I was having sex with Jason Lucas in his palatial mansion, in his bedroom and he was bloody good at it.

  “Oh, please, please, I need to come. I need to come,” I cried out involuntarily, based on instinct.

  “Yes. Yes. Give yourself to me,” Jason spoke through gritted teeth.

  My release was unbelievable, so much tension flew out of me as I bucked, shook and faded almost to oblivion. Tears formed in my eyes as my long lost friend was restored. An orgasm that had been waiting in the wings, waiting for right occasion to return. I sensed him moan almost silently and he spurted into me, making the most of each grinding, hip gyrating thrust.

  We lay clinging to each other post-coital and satiated. I hoped he was satisfied as my self-doubt kicked in. Perhaps I was not good enough for a rich, powerful man.

  “That was fine sex, Miss Marshall,” whispered Jason in my ear as if he was reading my thoughts. “Damn fine,” he rolled off and lounged next to me.

  “Are you sore? Not too rough for you?” he asked gently, taking my face in his hand, directing me to look at him.

  “No, Jason. I’m good, just dripping wet!” I giggled back at him and for the first time his eyes were not driving me crazy. I had conquered them – well, maybe for now.

  “Um, these sheets are getting a good soaking aren’t they?”

  He looked so hot lying on his stately bed. He turned on his side and reached for me, pulling my head to his and then he kissed my lips fully and quite passionately. My first Jason kiss and the sensual tissue of his lips started my insides throbbing and quivering with renewed carnal needs, the need to be fucked.

  After an age of tongues interlaced and mouths sucking, hands groping and legs intertwined. He drew away, leaving me looking at him and what was b
etween his legs. His lovely cock was back up again and looked ready to go for number two.

  “Ready for me?” Jason did not wait for my answer as he grabbed at me and flipped me over.

  He did not need to wait for a reply as I spread my legs wide for him.

  “Knees up, this time from behind,” he instructed.

  I wriggled my bottom provocatively at him, perhaps showing too much keenness as he gave it a playful smack. Slower entry this time, nudging just the tip of his penis into my very wet squelchy hole. He held himself there, tormenting me with expectation. A finger circled around my exposed clitoris, pushing the protective hood up, he stroked the exact point of my sex with absolute precision. I let out a soundless moan, too stimulated to be articulate and I pushed my hips down to meet his hand.

  The room had lifted in temperature causing my body to perspire and turning my skin shiny and gleaming under the soft lights. Strong hands held my shoulders as I rested on all fours, pressed down into the mattress. I held off the fears that lurked, very aware of his strength and power. I would not be able to fight him off he turned nasty on me.

  Sensing my apprehension, he murmured in my ear. “Trust me, babe, let yourself go.”

  Suddenly he rammed me from behind and we were pursuing his uncompromising pace again. I did not think he could fuck harder but he was and his balls swung against my bottom. The momentum was unending and his tall figure seemed to have encased me. I was not afraid now, even though this was the most vulnerable position I had been in for several weeks. The sense of being sheathed by his body only heightened my own arousal to point of completion. I was making a stream of throaty, incoherent noises and they spewed out of my mouth uncontrollably. From him, only the sounds of heavy, rapid breathing and the occasional forced inhalation.

  Sex, the erotic, fervent, impassioned act had reaffirmed itself in my life. However, this was more than the base act of intercourse, the man making love to me had fired my senses in a way no other man had before now. His love-making was not the ineloquent fumbles of a novice school boy, nor the sweaty exertions of an older man, neither was it the perfunctory acts of an indifferent lover performing his wishes with no consideration. The man behind me was using me, yes, that was true, but he had also set ablaze my neglected passions, drawn me out of my shell and I was melting inside due to his sexual expertise. This could not be happening to me, not after the worst I had experienced barely a few months previously.

  “You come for me, baby, that’s what I want to hear, you let rip. Go. On,” he punctuated his demanding words with timely thrusts.

  So I did, very vocally and pulsating as he joined me with a low husky groan. There was a savagery to our combined orgasms. His grip on me tightened, pinning me down and forcing me to give beneath him. Mine was breathless, my brain almost gave out and the orgasm came close to sending me spiralling into a blackness of supreme delight.

  He extracted his diminished part from me as I remained collapsed on my belly and I briefly fell asleep. When I stirred he was there watching me again, blue eyes penetrating me in other ways. I smiled sleepily at him.

  “Sore now?” he queried.

  I nodded. I could feel it now, not bad but definitely there. I did not mind, the discomfort was strangely life affirming and necessary.

  “Then let’s shower and sleep,” Jason looked at the ravished bed. “New sheets too I think.”

  We showered separately. I took my time, lathering my hot skin with a surprisingly pleasant shower crème, not the kind of product I expected to find in a man’s bathroom. Afterwards we slept naked, side by side, occasionally Jason touched me in the night, but I did not think he was awake. I was strangely sleepy but unable to fall into a deep sleep. The excitement would not be laid to rest. Sex was back in my life and the provider was someone quite out of the ordinary.

  Somewhere there was an alarm clock going off and the beep was not familiar to me. I woke with a start, the previous evening flooded back in a montage of surreal images. He was not next to me and I could hear the sound of cascading water. I wondered what he looked like covered in steamy hot water. Out of the bathroom he stepped, towel round his waist, wet darkened yellow hair and small drips of water trickling down his smooth chest. He looked younger that his actual years. My Jason Lucas, I ventured to claim briefly, then dismissed the notion. The morning’s sexy posturing had nothing to offer me. Sex was now off the agenda.

  “Morning, Gemma. We need to get a move on. You’ll need dropping off at your apartment for clean clothes. I can drive you there and you can make your own way to work. There should be enough time.”

  Jason was very business-like now. The man who peered over my shoulder in his office was back. I jumped up and started to find my evening dress from the floor somewhere with my tossed aside knickers.

  It was only later, when I was reflecting on the evening, I realised how little was said the following morning. He did not refer to our sex as if it had been a shared dream rather than reality. No post-mortem had occurred after a separate showers and the rush to get to work had pre-occupied our thoughts.

  Dressed, we stood at his kitchen’s breakfast bar and gulped down coffee and buttered muffins. I did not have time to take in my surroundings. There was no grand tour of his house. Last night all I had seen was his hallway, corridors and broad staircase as I followed him to his bedroom. I barely recollected the interior and now all I had to add to my scant album was his kitchen.

  He was checking his mobile for messages and seemed thoroughly uninterested in my presence. Ten minutes later, we were ready to go, leather briefcase in his hand and driver summoned to ferry us to my apartment. Sitting in the back of his car, he turned to me as if remembering me from his distance past. Reaching for his briefcase, he pulled out a few sheets of printed paper.

  “I need you to sign this,” Jason waved the typed document in front of me. “It's a confidentiality agreement.”

  “But, Jason, didn’t I sign one when I started working for you?” I was puzzled by his request.

  “Yes, but that one was about company secrets, this one is about me,” he leafed through the pages and it was certainly a lengthy document. “I’m a rich man and the status can make me vulnerable to little girls with wicked ideas,” he sounded stern, like a strict headmaster.

  “Oh I see. This is all hush-hush.”

  “Very hush-hush, I don’t fuck employees, so you are an exception to my rule. A big exception.” He handed me a pen.

  I scribbled my name at the end of the both copies, folding one and putting it in my clutch purse.

  “Good,” he said putting his copy away and then he returned to his deep thoughts until his mobile started to ring.

  The rest of the journey he was on the phone, early morning calls to whoever was out of bed at that time of the day bombarding him with facts and figures. Plenty of people it would seem. I was not a morning person and I struggled to collect my rambling thoughts into a cohesive place. We arrived at my meagre one-bed apartment, which was located on the ground floor. As the car pulled up outside the building, it dawned on me that I had not given the driver my East End address nor provided him with directions.

  For a few seconds, I was alarmed that the location of my flat was known to Jason. He was a man of considerable wealth and I surmised he would not spend a night having sex with a new woman, even an employee, without doing a check on my circumstances. I could have lied about being single or perhaps I was a secret blackmailer. All the same, I was unsettled that he knew where I lived. I had never invited any man back to my home or told them my address. My little pad was a sanctuary, a very important place of escape. Would Jason respect my privacy as he had asked me to protect his?

  The rent for the pitiful accommodation swallowed up virtually all of my wages after I jacked in my last better-paid job. After seeing Jason’s mansion, my flat’s location and upkeep were especially pathetic in comparison. I was close to being embarrassed about my status until I sat up st
raight and reminded myself the little abode was mine. I had worked hard to afford having my own living space in an expensive city. Its particular advantage was being a direct bus ride to work.

  “You can catch a bus from here?” asked Jason. The wonders of public transport were not on his radar.

  “Yes. A street away,” I gestured with my arm.

  The car door was opened by the driver and I took one last look at Jason. He cocked his head to one side to have a better view of me.

  “Bye, Gemma Marshall. Have a good day,” he said with a cool detached voice.

  That was that, no parting kiss or hug. I said nothing back as I was stunned into silence by his lack of personal touch. An evening of erotic, mind-blowing sex. The encounter was nothing else to him. Why was I deflated, I should had seen this romantically vacant game coming a mile off. After all, I was an expert in them.

  Chapter 5

  Three days past and I heard nothing from Jason. No phone call, emails or photocopier encounter. The first day of the new week, the Monday, I was on an emotional high. I bounded into my communal office like Tigger on amphetamines and took everyone by surprise by being chatty and engaging. I did not mention Jason, just managing to stem the ardent desire to spill the beans and let everyone know I had been fucked by the CEO. The need to maintain secrecy and good conduct kept the urge at bay. Packing my secret love life away out of sight, I implied the concert had instilled the good humour in me. The explanation was met with obvious disbelief from the others in my room.

  Penny laughed at me as I spoke with passion about being surrounded by voices in beautiful harmony.