Chapter One – The Kinky Wedding Night
Gemma longed for a solitary moment with her new husband. During the first meeting of their hands, after her father had relinquished his grasp, Jason had stroked her knuckles and the tiny movement of his thumb sent ripples of contentment through her body. She buzzed, as if electricity pulsated through her veins, and she continued to feel the intoxicating symptom throughout the special day.
The wedding was conducted in early April and to everyone’s delight the day turned from grey and damp in the morning into a barmy dry spring one. Having discussed whom to invite, Jason and Gemma had realised simplicity was all they desired. Deciding to exclude their kinky friends had ensured there was no hint of anything untoward for their vanilla family members and friends to notice. The proviso had reduced the list down to close family members and longstanding friends, people who would only see a loving couple who smiled, kissed and stayed close to each other throughout the day.
None of Jason’s family appeared to know anything about his alternative lifestyle. For the duration of any family visits, Gemma and Jason suspended their more unorthodox pastimes. In the build up to the wedding, they invited each of his siblings in turn to Blythewood at the weekend. His two brothers and sister pleasant and easy to entertain. Jason being the eldest had watched them grow up and for the most part had not interfered in their lives.
During the ceremony, when the secular vows were exchanged and poems read in their honour, she wondered what awaited her in the bridal suite. Pronounced husband and wife, Jason gave her a brief kiss, then whispered a tantalising message in her ear, “Later.” His blue eyes shone under the lights of the banqueting room, making her quake and she conjured up lewd sexual images. She feared her speech would be addled by the distractions. Holding her own, she managed to appear outwardly robust while internally she melted with a special kind of passionate heat. Everyone told her she looked blooming.
The shimmering ivory gown amused Jason on the wedding night as he carefully removed it.
“Virginal white? Isn’t it somewhat untruthful, Mrs Lucas?” he uttered in her ear.
Gemma giggled. “Very true, Mr Lucas, but who is a virgin these days and anyway sex with you is so diverse I feel like a virgin each time.” She smiled as he released her breasts from the tight bindings of the dress.
“Why thank you, babe.”
The removal of her wedding dress began the act of consummation. While Jason remained in his morning suit, Gemma was sedately stripped to her white lacy lingerie. The blue garter around her thigh maintained the necessary superstitious practices and caused Jason to offer a small quibble. He didn’t believe in superstitious customs. Gemma shrugged off his frown reminding him the garter was a gift from Trudy, her bridesmaid, and everyone Gemma knew—meaning what Gemma had read in a wedding planning book—did something borrowed and something blue. Jason let the topic drop, admitting she looked cute in the frilly garter.
She muffled a moan of delight when he ordered her to strip, and again when naked she lay back on the bed with her arms above her head. She knocked her knees together, hiding what he sought. Denying him the view was an easy tease. Peeling off his suit, his shirt and tie, Jason left on his underpants. He bulged beneath the silk.
“Where first?” He smirked and leisurely removed his underpants. In the same nonchalant fashion, he crawled over the bed towards her. Gemma shivered with expectations and just as his erection betrayed his thoughts and desires, her wetness was her bodily reaction. His lips lowered to touch hers and she parted them to let out a satisfied sigh.
They made love with exquisite slowness and much use of their hands. Jason explored every facet of Gemma’s body as if to own her entirety. His lips joined his fingertips and he sucked her nipples until they were painfully hard and erect. Burying his mouth between her legs, Gemma struggled to keep quiet. She wanted to scream as she came. That eruption of spasms was her first orgasm of the night. As she convulsed under him, he penetrated her slippery passageway and the head of his erection felt as if it had reached her belly. The thrusts were teasingly slow and he ground into her, pressing his hips and pelvis between her spread thighs.
He released a hot spurt of liquid inside her and she missed him the moment he withdrew. Wrapping his arms about her body they huddled in a crush of naked limbs.
“Please,” she whispered.
“Please what?” Jason replied. He egged her on with the serious tone of his voice.
“You’ve shown me you’re my husband. Show me my master,” she murmured and turned to face him. “It is Saturday night.” She mentioned the day because it was when she normally submitted to Jason, her beloved sensual Dominant, in his dungeon playspace.
“I see, you want your Dom to come out to play on our wedding night?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Surely, he would want to come and take his possession, his willing submissive. I have given you my vow.”
“You have persuaded me, my love. My girl.”
Jason extracted himself from her embrace and made his way over to a luggage case. Gemma sat up, admiring his muscular physique and hugged her knees. He undid the lock and pulled back the zipper. Breathing rapidly, she crawled over the bed to see what he’d brought to the bridal suite.
“Patience.” He shook his finger. “Get on your knees, babe, and show me you are willing.”
Her legs wobbled but she obeyed him and slipped onto the rug at the foot of the bed.
“Deep breaths, Gemma,” he told her as she posed: knees apart, hands resting upwards on her thighs, head locked slightly down and eyes on the floor.
The rope was long, white and made of soft fibres. He dangled the tip of it within her eye range and her pulse quickened. She couldn’t help smiling; he’d come prepared.
“I’m going to bind you tight. Laced up like a package. Wrapped for my pleasure, my visual delight. Squeezed flesh, taut skin and total immobilisation. First though, soften you up, how about a gentle flogging?”
Gemma didn’t answer. A pointless exercise, because she’d handed over her body to him. The restraining ropes would sculpture and shape, and the pressure points created would help release the endorphins she needed. The ropes would massage her into tight embrace, then the tension of the day would be stripped away, releasing her in other ways. She would drift until her mind and spirit sank into an abyss of nothingness.
She slid forward onto outstretched arms and raised her bottom. The flogging, given to her prone torso was subtle and thorough. Nothing harsh, as they couldn’t make too much noise. She gasped, hissed and groaned. Gradually, she let go and heard only his softly spoken instructions telling her where to position her body for each swing of the suede tails. She reached an edge; her precipice and she began to tumble. Jason sensed she was entirely his and compliant. It was time to bind her.
There was no rush, no haste to his ropework. He directed her breathing so each coil and twist of the rope was placed in time with her movements. There was no opportunity for suspension or tying her to a fixed feature. Instead, Jason opted to bind her arms behind her, pressing her wrists and elbows together and weaving the rope about her. He lay her on her back with her knees bent and bound her legs in an elaborate pattern of netting, a criss-cross of loops, which embroidered her legs from her bound big toes and up to her breasts. Gemma was trapped in the midst of a fishnet of woven rope.
Tying the last knot, Jason stood back to admire his wife.