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mound. And then he started to move, slowly at first, but increasing his pace until he was thrusting in and out of her body, rapidly approaching his orgasm. Gabrielle yearned to move with him, but she was pinned there on the chair, a body for him to fuck, moving inexorably towards a shattering climax of her own.
    â€˜Tell me what you want now,’ he grunted, his hands clamped obsessively to her knees as he fucked her.
    â€˜You want me to fuck you until you come, don’t you?’ His urbane façade faltered, his jaw clenched and beads of sweat glistened on his face and chest as he moved with decreasing finesse, trying to hold back and savor the pleasure for as long as possible, wanting to see her come first, to prove his power over her.
    â€˜You do, don’t you?’ he persisted.
    â€˜ Yes …’ she breathed, barely aware that she’d responded. ‘Make me come… master !’
    â€˜Oh, my dear girl!’ Verity panted, and then his brow furrowed as he fucked her with ever increasing intensity. Gabrielle heard a scream, her own, as her pleasure built to a peak that was unbearable in its intensity, and she was consumed by a wonderful orgasm.
    â€˜Yes!’ Verity grunted victoriously. ‘I’m coming now! Feel me coming deep inside you, my dear girl.’
    â€˜I… I can feel it,’ sighed Gabrielle, mumbling almost deliriously. ‘And I’m so very grateful… master.’ Why she addressed him in such a manner again she had no idea, but the whys and wherefores seemed totally irrelevant at that moment.
    He did not pull away from her immediately, but stood there, his vice-like grip upon her knees gradually easing, his eyes closed, his breathing calming as his spent penis slowly softened and slipped from her.
    After long silent minutes, during which Gabrielle began to feel strangely close to the man, as if there was now a powerful bond between them, he opened his eyes and looked down upon her. ‘I’ll send Susan back to show you where to shower and freshen up,’ he said, and his tone hurt her; it was cold and detached, as though they had not just been so intimate together at all – as though it had meant nothing to him.
    Without another word Verity turned, did up his robe, and left the room.
    Tears blurred Gabrielle’s eyes, but she must not cry; she was stronger than that and Marshall Verity was not worth her tears. He was just a sad and lonely rich man. He meant nothing to her… nothing at all.

Chapter Five
    Gabrielle sat in the luxury of Marshall Verity’s private jet, still finding it hard to believe such opulence really existed. In the cabin were mod cons she could only ever dream of possessing, particularly with Tom’s proven ability of quickly losing any money they might have.
    Verity relaxed in a large comfortable seat, similar to the one she sat in, and held up a flute of bubbling champagne, smiling confidently at her. ‘To us and our time together, my dear,’ he said.
    Gabrielle politely reached for the crystal glass of bubbly on the occasional table beside her, and sipped the delicious drink. ‘To us,’ she repeated, but with little enthusiasm.
    â€˜Is something wrong?’ he asked, an amused frown on his face. ‘Don’t you crave a life of private jets, luxury cruises, designer clothes the likes of which any girl would give her right arm for, and the most delicious delicacies the world has to offer, prepared to perfection by the finest chefs?’
    â€˜Yes,’ she said. ‘I mean… no. Oh, I don’t know what I mean. Why do you always throw me into such confusion?’
    Verity got out of his chair and knelt beside her knees, sliding the silk of her skirt up her smooth thighs. ‘You’ve never known a man like me before, have you?’ he said.
    â€˜I’ve never known any man, except Tom.’ She paused, knowing that this was a little lie. ‘Well,