Enthrall Her

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Enthrall Her Page 25

by Vanessa Fewings


  Yet he pulled me back, denying my release.

  “No,” I groaned, my body riddled with need. “Please, Sir.”

  His lips trailed down the inside of my thigh, planting soft, gentle kisses there, and then he began his descent down the other.

  He pinched my clit, hard. “Who does this belong to?”

  “You, Sir.”

  “That is correct,” he said, his tongue circling upon it.

  “Let me come, please, Sir.”

  “Only good subs get to come.” Pulling the chain, raising me higher, he positioned my face directly before his groin.

  “I can be good.”

  I let out a long sigh of gratitude when he unzipped his pants. Rising out of dark curls, his cock was proud and inviting. Swinging forward, that small movement was all it took to encase him in my mouth, opening wider to welcome his enormity. He was rock hard yet velvety smooth. Mesmerized, I closed my eyes, savoring him. If power had a taste, this would be it. Spellbound, I took him all the way in, sucking firmly, working him passionately, moving my head backward and forward to fully pleasure him.

  Those beads were once more inserted.

  His grip tightened around my ankles. “Mia,” he said huskily. “It’s good to see my submissive knows how to please me.”

  A moan served as my answer as I tasted that small bead of his arousal, letting me know he was close. I took him farther still to the back into my throat, daring my breathing to find its own way. I needed this more than him, beholden for this chance to gratify my master, my dom, my everything.

  My entire being exalted when his mouth once again met my clit and his tongue danced and lapped with the mastery of one who knew what it needed. Against his thickness, I moaned, his cock twitching in reflex against the vibration.

  Shaking violently from my intense climax, I forgot to breathe. My mouth clamped down and worshipped him in a frenzy of powerful strokes from my tongue, proving to him I knew he owned me, wanted him to.

  Coming still and shuddering violently, immersed from head to toe in searing euphoric pleasure, my sex exalted with delight at its collection of beads and my master’s thrumming tongue.

  It flashed through my mind whether I could swallow upside down or not, but this was quickly answered when he came into my mouth, flooding me. I gulped him down, hungrily licking and sucking and wanting to prove I was capable of doing anything he asked of me. He was the only man who had ever truly understood me, never ceasing to enthrall with his flair for wonderment.

  He stilled, resting his head against my left leg. His grip on my ankles finally relented.

  Stillness returned to the room, a dreamy tranquility. Even the music faded.

  Pride swelled that it had been me who had rendered him peaceful. Minutes passed and I forced myself to wait for him to rouse.

  After a flurry of activity, I was standing again. My wrists were back in their cuffs, my legs shaky as they found their footing on the ground. Those beads still deep inside me caused me to swoon, and a post climax flush heated my flesh.

  “Good girl,” said Cameron, his eyelids heavy, the back of his hand brushing across my cheek. “You exceeded my expectations.”

  My gaze settled on my collar.

  He gave a reassuring smile. “First, I will showcase you as my new sub during my staff meeting. If your behavior is pleasing, I shall return your collar to you.” Cameron strolled away, zipping up and casually returning to his desk as though we’d not just had the most incredible upside down sex ever.

  He was going to leave me like this, completely naked, strung up and vulnerable, and clearly post fucked.

  And with those beads still inside me.

  CHAPTER 28

  DISTRACTION.

  That was the best way to cope with this.

  Looking around Cameron’s office, I tried to gather more information from the décor and hoped that an interior designer hadn’t placed too much of his or her own touch to throw me off the scent.

  These leather cuffs chaffed my wrists. I remained dazed from the shock of having been hung upside down and what had followed. Everything Cameron did was breathtaking.

  He sat on the edge of his desk as though he was gauging my reaction to my imminent showcasing to his staff. I wondered how many of them there would be. Having to face them afterward would be excruciating.

  You want this, my muse tried to rally me. You’re playing in the major leagues now.

  Those beads were still inside, causing my sex to twinge delightfully. My wrists smarted, a raw forbidden sensation that sent me reeling. My nipples stood pert from all this sensual tension.

  I wondered if Cameron had chosen the dark blue damask wallpaper on the far wall. Or the leather furniture. Or that expensive looking Persian rug in the center. The one his large mahogany desk rested upon. All of it was centered perfectly. The bookcases stacked high rounded out his private domain. Upon the central table sat a large sleek computer, a few manila folders neatly filed beside it, a selection of pens, a paperweight and his briefcase. The phone rang once and he pushed a button, sending it to voicemail.

  His focus fell upon me once again.

  Having Cameron calmly stare at me like this caused shivers, and a sense that he was waiting for me to speak. There was nothing to say, not really. During this last hour, everything I’d ever wanted to express to him had been. Though not with words.

  Braving to hold his gaze, I hoped he’d read that from me. He always saw more, delving into a part of me that even I couldn’t reach.

  That burn of his stare was too much.

  There was a framed black and white photo on the wall to my left of an old man with a mustache. A kind, intelligent face that I couldn’t place.

  “Carl Jung,” said Cameron, pushing away from the desk and strolling towards the photo. “Psychiatrist and psychotherapist. Father of analytical psychology. Jung was also a pioneer in sexual therapy.”

  My brows shot upward.

  “That’s right. All that I do to you is well thought out and based on science.”

  Unsure whether to be happy about that or not, I shifted my footing, finding Jung’s face once more.

  “Don’t worry,” said Cameron. “I’m only using this technique on you.”

  He’d used it on Richard too, and I wondered what exactly he’d done to him to free him of his demons. It had certainly freed me of mine.

  “Jung first used sexual therapy on his patient Sabina Naftulovna Spielrein.” Cameron arched a brow, as though judging my reaction. “She was in pretty bad shape when she first turned up at his hospital in Vienna. He healed her, using a very similar technique to that I used with you in the dungeon.”

  It was hard not to gape at that revelation.

  Cameron tucked his hands into his jacket pockets. “His work with her was so successful that Sabina went on to become a psychoanalyst and teacher herself, influencing psychiatry and offering a profound insight from a female perspective.” He looked down. “I’m afraid the Nazi’s SS Death Squad murdered her in 1942. A terrible loss.”

  “Like Alan Turing,” I said, remembering that brilliant cryptologist who came to a terrible end.

  Cameron gave a nod.

  It made me wonder if everyone Cameron admired died horribly. My mind tried to wrap around what that might say about him.

  “Sex merged with science,” he said. “Who’d have thought?”

  You, evidently, my kinky master. Still, his technique had worked, and staring at Jung’s portrait I now had someone to blame as well as to thank.

  “You have the most exquisite body, Mia,” he said. “You’ve been bestowed with stunning beauty.” He raised his hand. “I’m not just talking about an exquisite face. Of course you have that. An unmatched beauty. But more importantly your soul shines. You have the kindest heart. So forgiving in nature. A loving spirit.” He moved closer, pulling me against him.

  I leaned into him, weakening in his embrace, these leather cuffs preventing me from wrapping my arms around h
im. I nudged up my closer.

  Cameron broke away and my body missed the warm imprint of his, yearning for his return. He poured iced-lemon water into a tall glass and brought it back to me. After he tipped the glass, I sipped, grateful for the refreshing drink.

  He placed the glass down.

  Gently he eased loose strands of hair out from my face. “Your body is a temple.” He raised my chin and kissed me, nipping my lips. “It houses the soul. It deserves to be worshipped. And nothing gives me more pleasure than to do just that.”

  His words sent me into a spiraling mess.

  “Never be ashamed of your nakedness,” he said. “You are a rare masterpiece.”

  A knock at the door startled me.

  Begging Cameron with my eyes, I let him know I didn’t want this. Couldn’t bear to be showcased, objectified. From the armchair a few feet away, Cameron dragged a chenille throw off one of the chairs and brought it back. He wrapped it around my body to cover me.

  “Yes,” he called out towards the door.

  It opened and Dominic appeared. “Are we ready?”

  “Push the meeting back an hour,” said Cameron. “Mia will not be joining us after all.”

  “Got it,” said Dominic, quickly leaving and shutting the door behind him.

  I gave the softest sigh of relief.

  “I may be a sadist.” Cameron brushed his lips across mine. “But as it turns out, when it comes to you, Mia Lauren, I’m a possessive sadist.” He reached between my thighs and gave the string of beads a short tug.

  Moaning from the burst of pleasure, I leaned against him, needy for more.

  “Only good girls get to come,” he whispered.

  I sighed with longing. “I promise to good.”

  “See that you are.” He lifted my chin and that fierce chestnut gaze held mine. “Because nothing gives me more pleasure then to watch you when you come.”

  CHAPTER 29

  “LEAVE THE ROOM and come back in.”

  Samantha Harding made it an order.

  Resting my hands on my hips, I mulled over whether being showcased naked was preferable to spending an hour’s lesson with etiquette’s go to girl. God, she was bossy. I’d clocked her age at around mid-forty and she had the uncompromising confidence that women of a certain age carry. She was pretty though, and very sexy, and something told me she’d be a match for any of these alpha males circling Chrysalis. Her blue silk blouse and pencil skirt screamed L.A. elegance. Teaching people how to act classy was a lucrative business apparently.

  “I need you to walk back in like you own the room.” She raised her hand to cut off my reply. “I know you don’t actually own this library, but pretend you do.”

  I obeyed and left, stealing a few moments to rest my forehead against the door, this inner glow surely showing. The tryst with Cameron left me heady. He’d led me to the edge of coming and hurtled me over into blinding oblivion.

  I wondered what he was doing now and if he ever thought of me in-between our sessions. Despite leaving his office an hour ago and taking a long hot shower, my skin still tingled. Those strokes of his whip left faint welts, but those were now covered up by my jeans and cashmere sweater, thank goodness. Having to explain to Ms. Control Freak why my body was marked might send her over the edge. From what I’d gathered, Samantha was a feminist.

  “You can come back in now!” she called out to me.

  Holding my head high, I reentered, trying to pull back on what felt like arrogance.

  “No pouting,” she said. “Walk with self-assurance and others will treat you with respect. Of course there may be a few people who will be threatened by such aplomb. Deal with them with patience. Kindness. Sincerity.”

  There was no time to mull over Samantha’s words of wisdom. We’d already moved on to fine dining, and she’d organized a table setting at the back of the library. We went over everything from waiting for our partner to assist us with our seat, to how to choose from the wine list.

  Of course I’d had a crash course in this when I’d joined Cameron’s family back in his Beverly Hills bachelor manor, and Richard had even offered a few tips on how not to embarrass myself at expensive restaurants. So I was quick to grasp all of Samantha’s pointers and she even looked impressed when I correctly held my champagne glass by the stem in a pretend toast. That one had come from Cameron, when we’d dined at Chez Polidor in-between him squeezing the hell out of my thigh.

  Flushing brightly, I tried to get my thoughts back on track. We’d moved onto what was considered passé, according to Samantha—the inability to hold an intellectual conversation.

  “There’s no excuse not to remain well-informed with current affairs with so many news outlets.” She sat beside me. “You’ll be socializing with some of the greatest minds in the world. We need to prepare you.” Samantha picked up a remote control from the end of the table.

  Behind us, a wooden screen drew back, revealing a 40inch television.

  She flicked it on. “Time for a little geography.”

  I blinked at her, hoping I’d be able to remember all this.

  “Mia, by the time this journey is complete, you’ll not only be gorgeous, you’ll be brilliant,” she said. “You’ll have the pick of any man you choose.” She raised a long manicured finger and pointed it at me. “My darling girl, you’ll conquer the world!”

  It turned out that Samantha Harding was actually pretty amazing. As our class continued, I got to know her better and actually started to really like her. She’d been respectful enough not to ask any questions about my relationship with Cameron. Though she had shared some insight into her own life. Samantha was happily married to a photographer and they had two children. She also was a fitness fanatic and was shocked to hear my tennis coach was Cage Everson. Cage had in fact played at Wimbledon, she went on to inform me, and had even won a championship a couple of years ago. I wasn’t sure whether to be happy about that or not, since my next lesson with him loomed. He must have been costing Cameron a small fortune.

  Leaving the library with a leap in my step, I was actually starting to feel my confidence rise. I wondered if Cameron really knew what he was doing. On the one hand, I was being asked to submit to him, bow at his feet and freely offer myself in subjugation, and at the same time he wanted me to evolve into a woman who’d pass as a socialite. Independent and freethinking. Despite the arousal he brought merely with his presence, it was a heady combination of mind-fuckery.

  The sound of Cameron’s raised voice drifted. A door slammed down the north hallway. I headed off to investigate.

  And stopped in my tracks when I saw Cameron heading fast towards me. He looked equally surprised to see me.

  As he got closer, a dull ache hit my gut. A flurry of panic—

  There was a smudge of red lipstick on his white shirt.

  “Lesson over?” asked Cameron.

  “Samantha’s amazing,” I said, swallowing this lump in my throat. “My head’s spinning, to be honest.”

  So this is what it feels like to drown.

  “She’s very smart,” he said. “Yale grad. Nice too, which you don’t always get with that kind of smart. She’s a bitch free zone. I like her. I knew you would.”

  I swallowed again, trying to dislodge what felt like a boulder. “I do like her.”

  Cameron frowned, his gaze leaving mine and finding that lipstick. He stared off as though deep in thought. “Yeah, great.” He leaped forward and grabbed my hand, pulling me back the way he’d come.

  My tears welled and I reasoned as merely his submissive I had no right to jealousy, yet the idea of him touching another woman made me sick to my stomach.

  “I would say it’s not what you think,” he said, opening a door. “But right now it would sound like bullshit.”

  “It’s fine,” I said, “I understand. It’s my mistake.”

  He jerked my arm back. “No, Mia. Never see something like this and blame yourself. Do you understand?” Cameron looked furious. “Have so
me fucking self-respect.”

  There, at the back of the room, was Shay, Cameron’s fencing buddy, and he was dressed in leather pants and not much else. He was barefoot. From the look of things, he was taking his pretty submissive through her paces. The brunette was sitting at his feet, subjugated. She had a streak of red in her hair and her hands tied behind her back. Her breasts pushed forward and showing off their nipple piercings.

  “Hey Cole,” said Shay, turning to face me. “Hey, Mia, how’s it going?”

  “Fine,” I managed and threw in. “Pretty amazing actually.”

  “Shay, I need you to explain this to Mia.” Cameron pointed to the lipstick.

  The girl raised her head, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She knew I was hurting. I could see it in her eyes. She looked triumphant.

  Shay studied me and his expression changed. He’d apparently caught this devastation I was failing to hide.

  “For fuck’s sake,” Shay shouted at her. “Explain it. Now.”

  She was attractive in a hard kind of way. The tattooed rose on her shoulder was pretty. It matched her bright red lipstick.

  Shay rolled his eyes. “Arianna made a pass at Master Cole. I was here when it happened. He dodged it. Cole was only in here to discuss the party.” He glared at her. “Fucking minx. That’s why my bitch is on her knees.”

  “Happy?” said Cameron calmly to me.

  With an embarrassed nod, I turned on my heels and headed out, my tears stinging.

  “Shay, make sure that’s the last time your sub misbehaves,” Cameron’s voice trailed behind me.

  Finding out that Cameron had been intimate with another woman would have brought me to my knees. I was so far gone and hadn’t seen it coming. Of course it now all seemed so obvious. The letting go. This complete submission. This feeling of being unable to breathe unless he was in the room. This sense of loss when he wasn’t. This need to be closer to him even when he was inside me.

  The pain of losing him stuck in my throat. Anger welled that I’d allowed this to happen. The obviousness of it. How does a girl share such intimacy with a man and not fall for him? Cameron had to know this. Surely he didn’t believe his warning not to fall for him could prevent my heart from breaking when this was over?

 

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