Enthrall Him (Enthrall Sessions Book 3)

by Fewings, Vanessa

  His words carried the weight of truth. With him close, I was safe, even from myself. That thought caused my breasts to swell and I cupped them to soothe the pang of pleasure.

  His hands swept mine away, catching my taut buds between each finger and thumb, squeezing them and sending me over.

  “Can I come, sir?” I cried out.

  “I forbid you to come without my permission.” His hips pounded me into the seat.

  It was too late for me. My shuddering revealed I was already gone. Unable to hold back on his order, my fingernails dug into his back, and I scratched my way through my orgasm.

  Cameron’s hand slammed over my mouth to silence my scream. His lips clamped down on my left nipple, grazing the sensitive skin with his teeth then suckling.

  He jerked as he came into me, and his hips rode out his pleasure.

  My head crashed down onto the seat and, finally, I remembered to breathe again.

  “You defied me?” He nuzzled into my neck, burying his face in my hair. His kisses to my throat were tender.

  “Sorry, sir.”

  “Why do you insist on giving me another reason to fuck you, Mia?”

  Hugging his body with all the strength I could muster, I whispered, “Because I’m yours to discipline, sir.”

  He stared into my eyes, his boyish smile dissolving his frown. “If that were true, the world would be perfect.”

  Cameron dressed me, though it took a little longer than it had done to strip me of my clothes. Breathless and shaken from his passionate attack, I tried to read his expression that went from serious to contentment breaking through.

  He peered at me from under dark lashes. “You have the kind of beauty that takes down kingdoms.”

  After feeling a little awkward and abandoned all morning, I held onto those words.

  He tucked himself away, straightened his suit, and slipped to the other side of the car as though nothing had happened, crossing a leg over another as he stared out at the passing view.

  My arms felt empty again, and despite the relief his affection had returned, I could almost feel the cold coming off the glacier that was Cameron Cole right now.

  R & B played softly from the speakers, and it leant a sultry mood to our post fucked silence.

  The passing scenery was hypnotic.

  “I analyzed my way into this,” he said softly to himself. “I can analyze my way out.”

  “I’m sure it will be fine,” I said, fiddling with my top button, which was done up wrong. “Richard’s very persuasive.”

  Cameron’s frown deepened.

  “Are you all right?” I said. “You seem a little more…”

  “More?”

  “Mercurial.”

  “I’m thinking, Mia. This is me thinking. You should try it sometime. It’s rather useful.”

  I slumped into the seat.

  He held out his hands to me. “Come here.”

  Gliding over to his side, I slid into his arms and lay my head against his chest. His heart was beating fast, his warmth was welcome, his scent was pure Cameron. Pure alpha male. Pure master.

  Letting out the softest sigh, I snuggled into him.

  We drove like that for a long time, me hugging him and Cameron merely staring out the window. I knew he had a lot on his mind and the last thing I wanted was to make things worse.

  The car stopped.

  We’d parked outside a large townhouse with white painted walls and a black iron gate surrounding us.

  “Who lives here?” I said.

  “A man who has a knack for answers.”

  That iron fence looked menacing. I wondered if it was used to keep people out or keep people in.

  Cameron stared at the towering property. “Stephen sees through one’s psyche like glass. He taught me everything I know. Prepare yourself, Mia. You’re about to be meet one of Britain’s most gifted psychoanalysts.”

  My uneasiness welled.

  “I need Stephen to analyze you.”

  My breath stuck in my throat.

  “I have to know why,” he said softly.

  CHAPTER 6

  Dr. STEPHEN FINLEY stood on the steps of his house and stared over Cameron’s shoulder, watching Shay head back down the pathway.

  And I studied Stephen Finley.

  He was tall, in his fifties, and handsome in an interesting way. Plump, well dressed, and looked ever so English with his out of control mop of brown hair, his sideburns grey. His glasses balanced on his nose as he peered over them and locked onto Shay.

  Shay threw us a wave and got back into the Rolls.

  The Rolls pulled away.

  Only then did Dr. Finley turn back to Cameron. “Interesting,” he said, his accent upper class.

  Cameron gave a smirk.

  “Oh where to begin,” said Dr. Finley.

  “He’s one of my best men,” said Cameron.

  “The kind of loyalty the military instill,” said Dr. Finley. “Short haircut. Polished shoes. Lack of arrogance in his expression. Navy?” He lowered his gaze, following the car as it disappeared from view. “Drawn to more elegant sports?”

  “Ex-Navy SEAL.” Cameron smirked. “Fencing partner.”

  Dr. Finley turned to me. “This is Mia?”

  I held out my hand and shook his firmly, wondering what he’d see in me. “Mia Lauren.”

  “Call me Stephen.” He gestured for us to go inside.

  We headed down the hallway and through to the sitting room.

  This was my first experience of an English home and it was just as I’d envisioned it. A golden Labrador came bounding along to greet us and I knelt to pat the beautiful dog, kissing his head when he leapt onto my lap. His fur smelt homey and I relaxed, soaking up his affection and tickling him under his chin.

  “Ah,” said Stephen, looking down at us. “There you have it. Bronte likes you. Our work is done.”

  I sat where Stephen showed me to, on the big plush cream couch, and pushed myself back. Bronte jumped up and sat beside me so I could continue to pet him.

  There were several armchairs on either side and an old table stacked high with files. In the corner rested an antique writing desk with one of those pull out panels to write on. Wall to wall were neatly lined books on well organized shelves, and quite a few scattered knickknacks collected from aboard.

  I jumped up, wanting to take a closer look. Bronte remained on the couch, as though knowing I’d soon return. Three small ornamental pyramids were perfectly positioned close to one another on the middle shelf.

  Farther along, I couldn’t resist examining the piece of cement brick next to them. “What’s this?”

  “Piece of the Berlin wall,” said Stephen. “A patient brought it back. He’d been working undercover with the British military in Berlin when the wall came down in 1989.” He lowered his gaze. “Before you were born.” He looked over at Cameron and arched a bushy brow.

  “I know,” said Cameron.

  Stephen’s focus centered on me. “This one’s easy. Dr. Cole, you’ve gotten your patient pregnant.”

  “I’m not pregnant,” I said, placing the piece of wall down. “I’m on the pill and he uses a condom.”

  Cameron rolled his eyes.

  I frowned, realizing that Stephen had just used Cameron’s trick to get me to burst out the truth.

  “Tea?” said Stephen.

  I sat on the couch and waited alone while Stephen and Cameron went off into the kitchen. I patted Bronte, looking around again in my interest to learn more about this renowned therapist. This was actually kind of fun.

  Everything was neatly organized. There was no hint of a woman’s touch. The masculine flair, from the cream blind covered windows to the muted creams and beiges with some dark browns, made me wonder if he was either divorced or gay.

  Within minutes, Stephen and Cameron reappeared with a tray of tea.

  Cameron held out a china plate to me. “Jaffa Cake?” He offered me a round chocolate cookie.

  “Ye
s please.” I took a bite out of the orange and chocolate flavored biscuit. It tasted amazing.

  Cameron took one himself. “Don’t let me eat them all,” he said. “These things are addictive.”

  Stephen sat opposite in one of the plush armchairs and Cameron joined me on the sofa, sitting at the other end as though needing some distance from me. Considering what we’d just gotten up to in the Rolls, it was a little awkward.

  “How do you two know each other?” I asked.

  “Stephen was my professor at Harvard,” said Cameron.

  “Cameron was my best student. Though a little controversial for some, his techniques garner lasting results.”

  I reached over and hugged one of the small pillows.

  Stephen’s focus settled on me and I glanced down at my shoes, wondering what he’d get from those. “No sign of a military background there,” I said dryly.

  “You’re Cameron’s best friend’s girlfriend?” said Stephen.

  Staring at him in awe, I wondered how he knew.

  “Cameron told me all about it on the phone, Mia.” He tilted his head. “Sounds a little complicated.”

  “He has Richard’s permission to have sex with me,” I said. “Does he know about your place in L.A?” I asked Cameron.

  He gave a nod. “Stephen’s well aware of Chrysalis. We’ve talked at length about what we do at the manor.”

  “Cameron’s training me for Richard. Making me a better sub,” I hesitated and then added, “Sub is short for—”

  “Submissive,” said Stephen. “And how is your training going?”

  “Great. Kind of.”

  His gaze stayed on me for the longest time. “The human heart is a fragile gem. A delicate flower must be eased from the earth.”

  “A pleasure like no other,” said Cameron wistfully.

  Stephen nodded. “But when the bud finally opens that which was once kept hidden reveals itself.”

  “I admit to my surprise at these unexpected results,” said Cameron.

  “Pleasing?” asked Stephen.

  “Oh yes. Annoyingly so.”

  “The secret way of the heart,” said Stephen. “Finding a way around what was previously denied it.” He peered over his glasses at Cameron. “Amare.”

  “Never part of my operandi,” said Cameron. “Look, the reason I’m here is to better comprehend my subject’s effect.”

  “Clearly, your patient has gotten the better of you.”

  “I’m not his patient,” I piped up.

  “What are you to him then?” said Stephen.

  “Aren’t you meant to build trust first?” I said. “Ask about the weather in L.A? Make me feel more comfortable about opening up?”

  Stephen poured tea into three cups and added milk. He handed us each a cup. “How’s the weather in L.A? Let me take a wild guess. Sunny?”

  Cameron looked amused and opened his palms in a gesture of defeat.

  “Your match?” said Stephen.

  Cameron gave a nod. “An unlikely candidate, but challenging nevertheless.”

  “There are risks with your chosen lifestyle, my boy,” said Stephen.

  “I handle them.”

  “And how do you find the lifestyle, Mia?” asked Stephen.

  “I like it. Cameron used BDSM to unlock this memory that was wrong.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, I had this memory of injecting myself with cocaine when I was fourteen, and all along it was my mom’s drug dealer who injected me. The Ambien my mom slipped into my sandwich just before, to make me go quiet so she could get her next hit, made me forget. Cameron—” I lowered my head– “Dr. Cole did some research back in my hometown and put all the pieces of the puzzle together. He then told me what really happened and it unblocked the memory for me. Now I know the truth, I’m liberated.”

  “And there you have it,” said Stephen. “In a bitter nutshell.”

  “Dr. Finely has a PHD in philosophy,” said Cameron.

  Stephen eyed me for the longest time. “Sugar?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Do you have sugar in your tea?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Southern Belle.” Stephen raised a finger. “Charlotte.”

  “Well travelled too,” added Cameron.

  “I’m not ashamed of what we do,” I said. “BDSM makes me happy.”

  “The pain from being whipped releases endorphins,” said Stephen. “There’s clinical data to support the findings of its efficacy for treating alcoholics.”

  “I’m not an addict,” I said. “I just like the way Cameron makes love to me. I mean fucks me.”

  Cameron pinched the bridge of his nose.

  Stephen grinned. “An easy obsession.”

  Cameron put his teacup down. “She’s totally ridiculous.”

  Swallowing hard, I tried to ignore that.

  “This is the issue, apparently,” said Stephen. “It’s evidently time to give the ridiculous specimen back.”

  Cameron offered a sympathetic smile my way. “Mia, when I say ridiculous, what I’m trying to express is your….” Cameron sat back, as though lost for words.

  “Cole, how old were you when you went to boarding school?” asked Stephen.

  “What has that got to do with anything?”

  “You understand the relevance.”

  “Five,” said Cameron. “I was five years old.”

  “Five?” I said. “That’s very young.”

  Cameron looked defensive. “Stephen, you knew this.”

  “But Mia didn’t.” Stephen nodded.

  “How is this relevant?” said Cameron.

  “During our sessions, you revealed just how relevant.” Stephen gave him a knowing look. “Your subconscious desires normalcy. I suggest you date.”

  Cameron looked horrified. “Out of the question.”

  “Why?” said Stephen.

  “She’s not mine to date.”

  “And?”

  “Richard would never survive it,” said Cameron. “This is non-negotiable.”

  “That’s very presumptive of you,” said Stephen. “I’ve met Richard. He’s very reasonable.”

  “This is irrelevant,” said Cameron. “I just need you to help me understand why now.” He pointed at me. “I’ve analyzed this a million times. She’s not my Anima. I’m sure of it. I’m responsible for my own archetype…”

  I really needed more tea. These cups were too small.

  Cameron and Stephen continued their conversation. I listened, all the while patting Bronte, trying to catch a word or phrase I might understand.

  “Tell me about your latest dream?” said Stephen.

  “Irrelevant,” said Cameron. “I’ve not been entering REM sleep lately.”

  “I see.”

  “I’m too close to the subject to be objective,” said Cameron.

  Subject?

  “Mia.” Stephen looked over at me. “Why don’t you take Bronte into the garden?”

  “I like listening,” I said, still mesmerized by Stephen’s revelation that every man had female genes, and therefore a female side. Apparently I was probably Cameron’s ideal that he’d dreamt up from within his own psyche. A living breathing fantasy. As though Cameron had imagined his perfect woman and I’d conveniently turned up.

  Only he’d given me to his best friend.

  There was no doubt I loved Richard, but all this time spent with Cameron had confused my heart.

  Cameron paced, seemingly just as conflicted.

  “The greatest gift of all is to give that which we love the most to another,” said Stephen.

  Cameron stared at him for the longest time. “How do I sever this?”

  “Face the inevitable.”

  “She is so inconvenient.” Cameron pointed to me. “Why her?” He flung his hands up in frustration.

  “You know what this is,” said Stephen.

  “I gave her to Richard because I knew it would make me want her more? Is that
what I’ve done? Set myself up for desire?”

  “Is that what you’ve done?” asked Stephen softly.

  “No. I don’t know.”

  “How long before you have to give the ridiculous sub back to Richard?”

  “Hey,” I said.

  Stephen gave a deep sigh. “Go and take Bronte into the garden, Mia. The door’s through there.” He pointed to the kitchen.

  “I can’t stay?”

  “Cameron and I need to talk.”

  “Does he know about Lance?” I got up from the couch.

  “We’re going to talk about that too,” said Cameron.

  “Shouldn’t I stay for that? Considering it’s me Lance wants.”

  Stephen steepled his fingers. “Quite the Cleopatra, aren’t you, Mia?”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You have many admirers and they’re all willing to lay down their lives for you,” said Cameron.

  “There aren’t any asps in your garden, are there?” I said, heading into the kitchen.

  “Go with her, Bronte,” said Stephen. “Guard our queen.”

  Bronte followed me out.

  The door closed behind us, and despite my attempt to listen in to their conversation, this old thick wood prevented it. These thick walls kept their heat in and eavesdroppers like me away.

  The chill of the early morning hit me when I opened the back door.

  The garden was long and thin and very green. Several small trees, naked of flowers, lined the end, and it made me wonder if they were rose bushes. There, in the corner, lay a tennis ball. Trotting over to it, followed by Bronte, I picked it up and threw it to the other end of the garden. Bronte bolted after it.

  We played ball like that for what seemed ages, Bronte and I whiling away the time, and I almost forgot all the seriousness that had followed me here.

  Despite the chill, the air was refreshing, and running around kept me warm. Although I felt I could go back into the house at any time, I liked it that Cameron had someone to talk to. Dr. Finely was easily Cameron’s equal.

  After twenty minutes, though it could have been longer, Cameron appeared in the doorway and headed on over to me. He patted his arms dramatically at the cold and then picked up the tennis ball and threw it. Bronte scampered after it and quickly brought it back to him. Cameron’s grin broadened as he threw the ball another time for an overly excited Bronte.