[Enthrall Sessions 01.0] Enthrall

by Vanessa Fewings

  “What do you mean?”

  “If someone did break in they may be up here now.”

  I leaped in and with a push of a button we descended.

  “Shouldn’t we call the police?” I said.

  “They have a knack for spoiling all the fun.”

  “Do you really think someone has broken in?”

  “No.”

  “Oh.”

  He shrugged.

  “Will you explain this to Richard for me,” I said.

  “Of course.”

  “I’m actually kind of intrigued.” I felt a jolt of excitement.

  Tara had been right about the deep red walls. Soft lighting fell upon the five pieces of furniture, if you could call them that. More appropriately they were beautifully carved, dark stained contraptions. A table positioned in the middle had reams of fine silver chains hanging over it, reaching all the way to the floor. To its right stood a crisscrossed wooden panel with leather handcuffs on either side to stretch out the victim’s arms. Upon the wall hung an assortment of equipment, including paddles, whips, and blindfolds. A chest pushed up against the far wall hid what was probably more torturous accruements. I resisted the urge to take a peek.

  What looked like a stock out of the Middle Ages was easily countered by the elegant throne, a velvet cushion before it. To its right hung an enormous steel cage, and farther along more contraptions rested on shelves: silver-link chains, ropes, blindfolds, gags, and what looked like a black pair of gloves with spiked fingertips.

  This place set medieval devices against modern in the most startling way. No wonder Richard didn’t want me down here. He probably assumed I’d have bolted on my first day. Yet the soft scent of sandalwood and the womblike aura felt surprisingly calming. My lightheadedness muddled my brain. This risqué decor stirred feelings that had lain dormant, the thrill of delicious intrigue, a throb low in my belly that had no right to make me believe any of this was okay.

  A door at the end of the room promised to lead off to more rooms of pain. There was no getting over this was a dangerous place to be in, and how anyone would voluntarily want to be strapped into any of these baffled me.

  I turned to see Mistress Scarlet step out of the shadows. Her dominatrix outfit was a mixture of leather and latex. Her gothic-styled eyeliner and mascara highlighting her eyes, and her rouged lips, sharp cheekbones and hair worn back accentuated her commanding presence.

  “Hi Scarlet,” I said, hoping that glare of hers wasn’t anger at me for being down here.

  “Mia,” she said, tapping the whip in her other hand. “Cameron.”

  There came an unsettling feeling she’d been waiting for us. I glanced back at the elevator, wishing I’d brought my cell. Richard might have texted back by now. Though the reception down here might be sketchy. We were way underground.

  “We were concerned someone came down here.” Cameron arched an eyebrow.

  Scarlet’s gaze slid over to me. “It’s just us.”

  Cameron gestured. “Come here, Mia.”

  I took the few, short steps toward him, though my gaze stayed on Scarlet, wondering about that whip.

  “Come look at this,” he said. “Have you ever seen one of these?”

  “What’s it for?” The ornately carved crisscrossed post felt smooth beneath my touch.

  He placed his hand over mine. “Want to see?”

  Cameron looked fierce. The change in him so surprised me I didn’t struggle when he took hold of my shoulders and eased me back against the bar.

  “You stand here.” He tilted his head. “Well, the client does.”

  I almost lost my balance as he stretched out my left arm to the side. He used his weight to keep me there, his body pressed against mine as he secured my wrist inside a leather strap; tight. A thrill shot from my chest to my groin and I caught my breath. There came a waft of Cameron’s light cologne; a balmy scent stirring my senses.

  “I don’t like it,” I lied, unsure of these sensations awakening in my chest and shooting downwards, reaching that place where he’d touched me not so long ago. My lips trembled as my gaze fell upon his mouth.

  “You’re quite safe.” Cameron tugged the straps. “It’s good to have a feel for what our clients go through, right?” He secured my right wrist.

  I resisted, though his strength overwhelmed mine. He tugged my wrist tight in its buckle.

  A throb in my chest lulled me. Scared me. “Scarlet?” I looked to her.

  She gave a nod of encouragement.

  The elevator shuddered and began its ascent.

  “Let’s pretend she’s not here.” Cameron pulled a thicker strap across my waist, buckled and yanked it. “In most sessions it would only be us two.” He held his hand against my chest. “You’re breathing way too fast. I don’t want you to faint.”

  Mouth dry and thirsting, I tried to slow it down. “I have to get back to work.”

  “Thought you were finished for the day.” He reached for my shirt button and undid it. His fingers moving fast on the others.

  I screamed and he stepped back and laughed. “Not the shirt then.”

  “Not the shirt.”

  “Screams echo down here,” he said. “We get that a lot.”

  Oh no…

  His hand returned to my chest, pressing against it, his body close, his gaze boring into my mine with a fierce intensity. “What are you feeling?”

  My eyelids fluttered shut, my heart beat way too fast. This desire intensified an ache sending spasms low and deep inside; a building pleasure. My nipples pushed against my bra, the hardened buds betraying me through my blouse.

  “Very good.” He leaned toward my ear and whispered, “That’s what this one’s for.”

  Another thrill of excitement shot between my thighs and I hated the fact he could tell. His fingertip brushed along my right forearm, pressing beneath the crux of my arm, sending a shiver up my spine.

  “Cameron.” I shuddered in response and twisted my wrists in their straps. “I can’t breathe.”

  “Relax.” He caressed my bottom lip.

  I nipped at his thumb, my tongue tracing the tip.

  His eyelids became heavy, his teeth clenched, his jaw tensing. “You are exquisite.”

  The elevator purred, getting louder, pulling his attention away for a second.

  His dark stare found me again. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

  “No.”

  He looked surprised. “Let me show you just how exquisite you are.”

  Cameron pressed his lips against my mine, bruising them, opening my mouth with his, daring me, capturing me with ferociousness. His erection pressed against my belly, and the pleasure and pain it would bring became all too real. Unable to push him off, I had no choice but to surrender, opening my mouth and going with him, drowning in the lightheadedness caused by his embrace.

  This man was way out of my league, and yet he was here with me, seducing me, his velvety tongue tangling with mine. He’d called me exquisite. Made me believe it. This dreamlike moment was an impossible fantasy. A slow, steady throb of pleasure built as my moan entered his mouth, my tongue battling his, lost in this craving.

  He pulled back slightly and held my gaze. “How do you feel?”

  “Nice,” I murmured, hating myself for saying it.

  “Aroused?”

  I gave a nod.

  “Is your pussy nice and wet?”

  I bit my lip, hard.

  “Good girl.” He gave an impressed smile.

  “Cameron,” snapped Richard.

  I jolted back into the room.

  Richard stood ten or so feet away, his face unreadable. Cameron glanced his way.

  “Untie her,” said Richard.

  “We were exploring.” Cameron found my gaze again. “Weren’t we, Mia?”

  “Now,” said Richard.

  Leaving me strapped in, Cameron stepped back. “Mia’s been a very naughty girl.”

  “So I see,” said Richard.

/>   Cameron headed toward Richard and tapped his arm as he past. “See you later at Skybar.”

  Richard ignored him, keeping his glare on me.

  The elevator doors closed on Cameron and Scarlet. A fuming Richard and I were alone. Within seconds he’d freed me. I sidestepped away from the board and away from him. I felt like I’d broken from a dream, my cheeks blushing wildly.

  “I’d ask you what you’re doing down here,” Richard gestured to the crisscrossed board. “But it’s quite clear.”

  “I texted you,” I said breathlessly. “I waited for you to get back to me.”

  “You’re forbidden from coming down here.”

  “But Cameron—”

  “You take your orders from me.”

  “But—”

  “Are you really this naive?”

  I rubbed my wrists to sooth the sting. “I didn’t expect this.”

  “Have you opened your eyes to your environment?”

  “I should never have come down here.”

  “That’s the first intelligent remark you’ve made.”

  “Cameron’s been so good to me—”

  “Looks like the intelligent streak is over.”

  I resisted the urge to glare at him. “You’re both so…” I searched for the words that would make my point and not get me fired.

  His face darkened and he dropped his hands to his side. “I may well be the flame but Cameron’s the one who loves to watch you burn.”

  Silence. The uncomfortable kind.

  My gaze flittered to the crisscrossed board.

  “You liked that?” he said.

  No.

  “Speak up.”

  “No…well…yes. Kind of.”

  Whoever had a session here could be interrupted by someone arriving in that elevator, removing all hope of privacy. My mind searched for another distraction.

  “Was it the board or Cameron or both that turned you on?” he said.

  Breathing way too fast, I hoped he’d read from me what I dared not say.

  He was mesmerizing.

  Richard flipped me forward over the central table so fast he stole my breath away. My hands were out in front of me, trying to grip the wood, and yet all I grasped were chains. My vulnerable bottom jutted out. He held me there, still, unable to move. My skirt hiked up around my waist. He ripped off my thong.

  My darkest fantasy with him was being realized…

  “It’s best if you don’t resist.” His hand pressed down on my spine, forcing me to arch my back. “Don’t ever come down here again.” The strike of his hand came down hard on my buttocks. “Understand?”

  “Yes.” I bit my hand to muffle my scream, fearing I’d alert Cameron and Scarlet and they’d return and see this.

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Both hands on the table. Now!”

  Another strike, only this one more vicious.

  “Richard,” I begged, my thighs shaking.

  “You do not speak.” He struck again. “Unless permitted.”

  This was too much. The pain lasted seconds but the pleasure pulsed into my clit. Time itself seduced me, stealing my thoughts and owning my dignity. I gritted my teeth, a soft moan escaping.

  “Shush,” soothed Richard, as his left hand slipped to my abdomen, lowering farther to cup between my thighs, his fingertips stroking along my cleft. “Well we know you like this, don’t we?”

  Yes.

  A spasm of pleasure made me gasp.

  “This doesn’t lie, Mia. You’re wet,” he purred the words, his other hand bestowing a punishment of continued slaps I didn’t deserve.

  “Oh, yes.” I pushed back into his hand, grinding against it.

  “Be still,” he ordered.

  I was being attacked by both pain and pleasure and it made my head spin. I splayed my fingers farther, trying to better my balance as well as placate him. My thighs trembled as I became lost in a sea of sensations, trying to remain calm, fearing I’d pass out with the thrill of having Richard master me like this.

  I yanked at the chains.

  He waged his sensual war against me, his fingertips massaging with firm strokes, making me moan and I moved against his hand again, wanting, needing more, needing to come. This was wrong, but it felt so right. The tingling desire burned within, causing sensuous spasms that made me trance out. Another hard slap brought me back into the present, the sting sending shockwaves of heat through me. My thighs shuddered, rebelling against this position he had me in as I climbed higher, reaching the point of no return, pouting my way to climax.

  Richard let go, denying my bliss.

  The pleasure slipped away, leaving a low thrum where his fingers had been. He stepped back and gave me some space. I tried to steady myself, raising my hand against another sensual attack; it was hard to think straight.

  He spun me around and lifted me up and sat me on the edge.

  His hand swept wide. “Anything else you found you liked in here?” His tone was firm, scolding.

  “We only tried that one.”

  Richard glared. “How long has it been going on?”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. How long have you and Cameron been fucking?”

  “We’ve never…”

  He ran his hand through his hair, his face full of concern.

  My gaze shot to the crisscrossed board and I realized why he thought that. “We’ve never done anything.”

  “I deserve to know the truth.”

  My mind raced with what he must have thought he’d seen.

  “Damn it, tell me,” he said.

  “I’ve never done it. Ever.”

  “What are you saying?” Richard jolted back. “Are you saying…Mia, are you saying you’re still a virgin?”

  “Yes.”

  He looked horrified.

  “I have no idea what’s going on,” I said. “I’d almost finished addressing your invites and was about to head home when Cameron brought me down here.”

  “For God’s sake, Mia.” Richard’s eyes widened. “I just nearly fucked you on this thing.”

  CHAPTER 9

  RICHARD’S RUBICON WRANGLER virtually flew up the 405.

  With the top down it felt like we were going faster than the 85 miles an hour I’d caught on the odometer. This losing battle with my hair blowing into my face was getting annoying.

  “What if you get a ticket?” I shouted over to Richard.

  “I’ll pay it.” He fell silent again.

  He’d insisted on taking me home.

  I too fell quiet after receiving yet another snippety answer. The tension of tonight looked like it was far from letting up.

  And I wasn’t wearing any frickin panties. He’d ripped them off in that dungeon to get better access to my butt. My left hand clutched at my skirt, holding it down. He and Cameron were rogues. My face threatened to burst into flames from the memory of what they had done to me in that dungeon. My groin throbbed with the thought of it and I rested my head back, reeling.

  Although I’d had some idea of where my career may lead, this was way off. I never imagined I’d end up in some crazy work environment where the usual boundaries were not so much lacking as nonexistent.

  Richard slid the Jeep into fifth gear. I wondered why he’d not bought the automatic version. My gaze rested upon his hands, those strong fingers of his clutching the wheel, having not so long ago held me in the grip of pleasure. I wondered if he ever would again.

  I let out a slow soothing breath.

  I’d left my car back at Enthrall and was now terrified he’d drop me home and fire me, leaving me stranded tomorrow. Maybe Bailey could drive me down to pick up my Mini? The view fell away fast, along with the hypnotic headlights on the other side heading south.

  Richard changed the radio station to a talk show. The host chatted away in an east coast accent about a building in New York. After a few minutes he changed it again.

  Even off the freewa
y Richard drove the Jeep hard, turning sharp onto Ventura and navigating his way through Studio City like he knew the place. Having handed over my address on my application, I could only assume that’s where he’d gotten it from. Richard hadn’t asked for it and yet that’s where we were headed. The familiarity of the stores and restaurants brought some comfort. We soon passed my local Coffee Bean, as well as that upscale boutique I could never afford to shop in and my neighborhood Ralphs.

  We pulled up outside my building and Richard parked. With his seatbelt off, he turned to look at me, casually resting his head against his palm, his elbow on the headrest.

  “I felt fine to drive,” I said, though it was a mute point now.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine. You?”

  “Never better.” He arched a brow. “I want to apologize.”

  “No need.”

  “I’d give you the name of a good lawyer I know…but he’s so good you’d win your case against me.”

  “Is that your attempt at humor?”

  “Yes.”

  “You might want to work on that. Please don’t fire me.”

  “May I come in?” He glanced over my shoulder.

  I wasn’t expecting that.

  “I don’t have any coffee,” I said.

  “I promise you what happened back at Enthrall will never happen again.” He nodded to make his point.

  I mirrored his nod, not quite sure what to say.

  “Scarlet used to live in Studio City.” He removed the keys from the ignition. “You’d never get her out of Santa Monica now.” He opened the door and came round to my side.

  My hand barely released my seatbelt when he’d opened the door for me.

  “Where do you live?” I said, grateful for his hand helping me down.

  “Malibu.”

  “In an apartment?”

  “I bought a house a few years ago.”

  “Do you live alone?”

  His gaze locked with mine. “No.”

  A wave of disappointment hit me.

  I wondered if he had a wife waiting for him, and if so would he go over his day with her like a normal couple. Perhaps he’d explain how the last few hours of this evening had unfolded with Cameron, Scarlet, and me in Enthrall’s playroom. She’d have to be more than open minded to cope with hearing about any of that. Being married to him she probably needed as much therapy as he did.