Back in their private cabin Delia gently crawled onto their king-sized bed and straddled her husband at the waist. Giovanni briefly glimpsed her over his e-pad and she pouted at him.

"Why can't you put away your work for at least a day?"

He grunted while he checked the last of his emails and then allowed Delia to pry the reader from his hands and place it on his bedside table.

The gentle sway of the ocean created a relaxing lull, which when combined with the bottle of wine they'd shared earlier that evening, had put Giovanni into a very contented mood. Delia had not long gotten out of her bubble bath and she still smelled sweetly of roses. She wore nothing but a white bath robe that left her legs and thighs free for Giovanni's hands to roam. Her skin was so soft it felt like he was touching silk.

Delia smiled at his touch, tingling at the firmness of his hands that traced every inch of skin. His fingers reached her pink designer marabou slippers and slid them off one by one. She had taken the time to paint her toenails red.

"Do you remember our first time together?" Delia cooed. "On your old yacht?"

"Vividly," Giovanni replied with a smirk. Oh yes, she was only his secretary then, who had found herself caught up on the wrong side of a blackmail attempt by one of Giovanni's own enemies. She'd almost betrayed him... almost.

Instead he gave her a reason not to consider betraying him again when he spared her life and then later on saved her. And in return she gave him something so rare and valuable that it far exceeded every prized piece in his billion dollar collection. She gave herself.

He had been her first and only. Everything Delia knew about love and sex she learnt from Giovanni, and in a completely chauvinistic way he felt an empowering masculine satisfaction and pride that she had given her virginity to him. She was his... only his...

Delia caught the predatory glint in his eyes and grinned. One of Giovanni's hands moved upward from her legs to her thighs and then beneath her robe where it cupped a breast. His thumb nonchalantly toyed with her nipple, causing Delia to jerk, heat coursing through her body down to her thighs. Delia shed her robe so that she sat completely naked on top of him. She felt his firmness from inside his shorts and Giovanni's hips rise to meet her own.

Delia swooped down and located his mouth while her own fingers curled around the bottom of his shirt. Their lips parted for just long enough to pull his shirt over his head before she resumed her kisses with vigour. Delia moved with deliberate slowness down his chiselled chest and belly, her hands trailing lower still to release his swollen manhood from his shorts.

She wrapped her fingers around his arousal and lowered her head, her long hair brushing the length of his torso, and tasted him. She heard him murmur with words of surprise and pleasure. He bucked and moaned as she caressed him with agonising slowness so that each stroke was glutted with sensation. She felt his tension and continued until he was straining for release, then stopped.

"Delia, you're killing me."

Delia's head rose to meet his plea. Giovanni heaved and tried to reverse their positions but she shoved him back beneath her. "I am master."

She felt his tip against her and pressed herself into him. Giovanni's hands curved around her thighs, lifting her and then in a single, powerful thrust he filled her. She sat up with him still inside her, gliding back and forth on top of him. She felt Giovanni tense underneath her, his body trembling and a helpless moan escaping his lips.

His hands gripped her at the waist, his body arching upwards to fill her with his increasingly powerful thrusts, fighting her for mastery. Delia groaned and writhed, succumbing first to a climax that exploded through her. Giovanni cried her name in response, his body shuddering which his release that filled her.

Collapsing on top of him, Delia rested her head on his chest, taking a moment to capture her breath. Her body still tingled with his every touch. Giovanni stroked her hair with his thick fingers, kissing her muggy forehead and heaving a contented sigh.

Yes, she belonged to him. Her love, her devotion and her sex. No other man would be allowed to have her... ever.

"Delia," he whispered, "I love you."