Chapter 4 His...

Those days in Portugal had been memorable, the sunny days, the nights of intense love making. Even after more than a decade, I still hungered for my lover's touch, totally at his mercy and he continued to be the dominant, rough man he had been when he had first claimed me. Gaston could never seem to have enough of my body and I longed to have him take me the way he did, controlling my body and yet, taking me to the heights of ecstasy with his practiced hands and mouth...and forceful, thrusting manhood...

*

I had come down with a tummy upset during our stay, a slight discomfort but I had stopped the Pill for a few weeks...

*

The doctor clucked his tongue sympathetically when I stammered out my explanation and said,

'The medicines you took when you got the stomach bug...it could have neutralized the Pill.'

I sighed.

*

Gaston did not like to use condoms. He wanted to feel himself deep inside me when we made love, he growled and I had never raised an objection to that...

Leaning back, I thought of how he had reacted when I had displayed the ink on my body.

*

Gaston

"I...I have something to tell you...' April whispered, biting her lower lip, making his trousers begin to tent in a defiant away. She was wringing her hands nervously and he felt the excitement grow in him.

He had been at work all morning, and had left his woman to her devices. She had been on the beach, he knew, had visited some antique shop, spent time getting a massage. Of course, his men had accompanied her as she strolled around, guarding her carefully.

Now he smiled as he watched her, his beautiful wife, his possession.

He grunted and made to pull her onto his lap.

She shook her head and took a dainty step back.

"No, I want to show you...'she said and then he saw the gleam in her eyes. A playfulness that heightened his curiosity, Gaston shifted, his shirt undone as always, to the waist as he reached out for his whiskey.

What the f*ck was she playing at? he thought , a rush of an unfamiliar emotion flooding his veins as she stood, watching him uncertainly. She was nervous and at the same time, excited.

Eyes narrowed, he asked in a silky, dangerous voice,

"What is it, woman?'

She turned pink as she said,

"I ...I need ...' And then as he watched in astonishment, she slipped out of her skirt. It fell to her feet in a puddle of blue flowers and she stood before him in her lacy panties and her blouse. He sat still, unmoving. The sight of his wife, shyly stripping before him, at his workplace in the mansion he had rented for their holiday, was so damnably erotic, he felt his c*ck swell in anticipation. All the more because she looked so uncertain and ...scared.

His eyes never left her face as she turned slowly and pulled down her panties, exposing her creamy a*se cheeks.

As his eyes trailed lustfully over the creamy skin, he erupted out of the chair with a roar as he saw the tattoo.

*

'THE F*CK!', he bellowed, grabbing her arms and spinning her around. She turned to him, her eyes round in fear.

"WHAT THE BLO*DY F*CK IS THIS?'

"I...I wanted to...as a surprise for you..." she stammered moving away, frightened by the violence in his voice.

Gaston moved to her, one hand clutching the tumbler of whiskey or he would not have been able to control himself.

Another man had touched her? Another man had spent time tracing initials on her lovely skin.

Incensed, he spun her around, forcing her to bend over the desk as he studied the artwork.

Breathing harshly, he inspected the tattoo, with a thick finger. He felt hs c*ck swell even more as he saw that the ink resembled the image of a cattle brand on her creamy white, plump a*s cheek. Desire shot through him.

Branded.

With his name.

For across her lovely, round as*e cheek, was the legend, GSC.

He groaned. His hand moved to his fly where his c*ck was straining to be let out to penetrate her deeply, to plunder her soft wetness.

As he studied the legend on her flesh, he felt his c*ck rear. His heavy balls were aching unbearably. He needed to take her, now.

Putting out a hand, he traced the work as she trembled. Turning to look at him over her shoulder, uncertainty threaded her voice as she whispered,

"You...don't like it? '

She spoke timidly. Her eyes were wide with fear, and uncertainty.

The initials, His initials, had been beautifully etched on her creamy white as* cheek.

To proclaim to the world that She belonged to Him, Gaston St.Claire

He jerked her to him, winding his hand in her long hair, forcing her to look into his hot eyes as she said in a soft voice, pleading, her eyes round,

"There's more...'And she took his large hand and placed it over her navel shyly.

As he felt the piercing on her belly button, the blood rushed to his member which threatened to tear his fly.

*

April

Gaston stood still, staring at me, head thrown back slightly, the narrow eyes expression that always made me wet and scared at the same time.

"Take off the rest of your f*cking clothes.' he rasped coldly and I trembled as I slipped out of my blouse and stood, quivering, in my underwear. His eyes took in the lacy bra, the nipples hardening as he stared at me.

*

'A f*ckign navel piercing?' he growled and I nodded my head. He stepped to me, gripping my nape, eyes glittering.

"Who touched you there?' he asked, in a dangerously soft voice,

'A woman...' I whispered and licked my lips.

"Take off the f*ckign underwear, before I tear it.' he ground out, and continued in a hoarse voice that belied his tight control over his passion,

'I need to see your big tits. Are they pierced?'

I shook my head, my nipples hardening at his words.

My face burning, I trembled as I slipped out of my lacy bra and panties and stood, quivering, naked and aware that I was getting horribly wet between my legs...

Slowly he slid his hands down, tugging lightly at the piercing and I gasped. Suddenly he hoisted me up so that I was sitting on the edge of his desk as he lowered himself into the chair. Leisurely, his eyes roved over me and I shivered with a primal need. I was uncomfortably aware that I was naked while he sat, as always, like a savage beast, his shirt open to the waist, exposing his hirsute chest. My nipples had pebbled before his hot gaze as he studied me hungrily.

I dipped my head to avoid that hard, flint like gaze.

My eyes slid further down and I felt an answering ache grow in me, as I saw how his trousers were tenting dangerously.