Enthrallment: (Enthrallment Series Book 1)

by Meg Evans

  * * *

  Matt appears at six-thirty on the dot and hands me a gorgeous rose as the promise of a lovely evening. Even though it’s a nice gesture and I thank him for the thoughtful surprise, my smile is erased from my face when we drive past the Hatches’ driveway. I feel an icy ball drop in my stomach. I turn my head the other way, focusing solely on Matt; unlike Dorian, he deserves my attention.

  To Rach’s disappointment, by vote we choose a comedy with Kumail Nanjiani in the leading role. She stubbornly tries to convince us that the horror movie is a better option. I suspect that she wants to cuddle up to Brandon during intense scary scenes, or even bury her face in his shoulder, but unluckily for her nobody else is keen to watch that one. We spend the next two hours watching how a couple in love unintentionally embroiled in a murder mystery is trying to clear their names and survive the night.

  The movie itself is hilarious, but I have to force my laughter quite a few times. I can’t seem to relax and just let go of my nagging thoughts, even for a short moment. I peek at Matt every now and then. He seems to be having a really good time. How come I’m not? Isn’t going on a date with him what I’ve wanted since I saw him for the first time? Apparently, Dorian has totally filled my thoughts and overshadowed all other feelings I had before I met him. He’s absorbed all of my being. It’s no longer simple infatuation.

  When the show is over, we go for a drink, which is Rach’s favorite part of the evening. I only drink alcohol occasionally, so when I do, I always choose light mixed drinks that won’t go straight to my head. With that in mind, I plan to get a piña colada, which consists of more milk than alcohol. However, my choice doesn’t meet Rach’s approval; she announces that I should forget about it and orders a round of vodka for all of us. I’m not a fan of vodka—it’s so bitter that it makes my face twitch—but as a one-time thing, I can stand its taste.

  Unfortunately, as it turns out, I underestimated Rach’s hunger for vodka shots; it goes up to four rounds. In no time, I’m spaced out. It’s precisely the moment I need to pass on the next couple of rounds if I don’t want to pull a stunt like Charlie’s the other night.

  I think Rach’s intention was to help me chill out, but the alcohol I’ve consumed does the opposite, intensifying my misery. Now I’m not only a little bit upset, but really bitter.

  Matt has a fantastic sense of humor. The other two are hysterical when he spins his hilarious stories. He mentions an incident that happened to him in middle school, a fight with his teammate on the soccer field, and a disastrous family reunion after years apart. He has the gift of amusing people, yet as during the film, I find that I have to force myself to burst out laughing. My thoughts filter back to Dorian no matter how hard I try to fight them. On top of that, Matt’s cologne repels me; not because it’s overpowering or obnoxious, but because it’s not the scent. The one that I’m probably meant to be haunted by for the rest of my life. Matt’s voice doesn’t resemble the one that I adore so much. I don’t want to seem like a terrible date, but I simply can’t enjoy myself.

  Rach must have noticed that something is wrong, as she asks me to go with her to the bathroom.

  “Are you having fun?” she asks, standing in front of a long mirror, rummaging through her purse.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Then why the long face?” She pulls out a red lipstick and deftly applies it to her lips with firm strokes.

  “I’m tired, that’s all.” I glance at my wristwatch. “It’s almost midnight.”

  “Zara, Zara…” Rach tilts her head back and peers at me. “You don’t want to be here anymore, do you?”

  “I don’t mind staying.”

  “What happened to you?” She swivels quickly to face me. “Haven’t you been carrying a torch for Matt and dreaming of a date with him for months?” She pushes herself off the sink and approaches me. “You have what you wished for, so what’s the problem?”

  “I don’t know. I’m confused myself,” I admit. “Maybe you’re right; we should leave.”

  Rach seems puzzled by my mood. “You looked fine at the movies, but if you feel like it’s too much for you, then so be it. I’ll call a cab.”

  My heart sinks. Because of me, a perfect double date has just come to an end. Maybe I should sacrifice myself for a bit longer for the sake of my friend, but I can’t bear the thought of staying here for another hour. Sitting beside Matt and yearning for Dorian is torture. It’s also unfair. I should’ve never agreed to go out with Matt in the first place. It was an impulse. A need to prove something to myself.

  An Uber comes to pick up Rach and Brandon. Matt didn’t drink again, so he takes me home. When we arrive at my house, he doesn’t let me go in by myself and walks me to the front door. The fresh air hits me, catalyzing the alcohol in my bloodstream, strengthening the effects of drinking. I do my best not to totter too much. I don’t know if Matt ushers me because he has good manners, or because he doesn’t want me to trip over my own legs.

  “Thank you for a great time,” he says when we reach the steps of my porch.

  “No, thank you. It was a very nice evening.”

  “I would love to do it again.” He comes one step closer to me, which automatically makes me back up after my unfortunate experience with Charlie. “But next time only you and me.”

  “Sure! We should definitely hang out one day again.” Something cautions me to sign off as soon as possible.

  Silence follows my words. Neither of us adds anything else. Matt must be used to having girls throwing themselves at him with kisses after every date, or at least with romantic hugs. I, however, stand motionless, favoring him only with my somewhat forced smile. I want him to go away already and leave me in peace; I need to think.

  “Drive safely, and I’ll see you soon,” I say to break the silence.

  “You’re not going inside?”

  “I will, but only after you drive off. I want to wave goodbye to you.” It’s a lie; in truth, a hellish plan has just been born in my head, probably triggered by the amount of vodka I poured into myself. If I was sober, I would never allow myself to do what I’m about to.

  “That’s nice of you.” Matt gives me a kiss on the cheek and walks away to his car. A minute later I watch him pull out of the driveway and vanish around the corner.

  Let’s run the show, I think to myself. Not caring about the late hour, I sneak up to the house on the other side of the fence.

  CHAPTER thirteen

  I knock on the front door. It takes a good while before Dorian opens it, completely dressed even though it’s after midnight. A bunch of butterflies takes flight in my stomach as his eyes roam over me.

  I greet him wryly. “I thought you’d never open the door. I was sure you were playing your favorite ‘intense relationship’ game with one of your new, um… friends?” I have no fucks left to give right now.

  “Nice to see you too,” he replies, his face stony. “Why exactly are you here so late?”

  “I came to pick up my property. Where is it?”

  “Your property?”

  “Where is my bicycle?” I clarify.

  “You’re coming for your bicycle at midnight?” He surveys the area behind me as though he wants to make sure nobody’s watching us. “So what’s the real reason you’re here?”

  I snort. “You want to know the truth? Oh, well, who would expect that? Welcome to my world, Mr. Hatch,” I say, and lean against the door frame. “Perhaps His Mysterious Majesty will finally tell me what this is all about, huh?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Yes, you do. You only pretend you have no idea, but you know all too well what I mean! I’ve had enough of all these secrets!”

  “Have you been drinking?” he asks, his voice sharp.

  “Who cares?!” I say it way louder than I intended to.

  Dorian grabs me by the elbow and pulls me inside with one firm motion, closing the door behind me. “Don’t bother to answer; you already have.”

  �
�We’re not talking about me right now.” I’m trying to jerk away, but he’s clutching me too tightly. “Maybe your cousin will join this conversation? I’m sure she has a lot to say, too.”

  “Rita’s gone for the weekend. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’ll regret this ridiculous behavior tomorrow, so I believe it’ll be better for the both of us if you politely let me walk you home instead of yelling at the top of your lungs.” Dorian pierces me with his stern eyes.

  “No! Let go! Get off of me!” I manage to wrench myself free and pull away a few steps. “No! No! No! I’m not leaving this place until you tell me what secrets you’re hiding!”

  “Zara, we’re leaving,” he says, his voice full of finality, and takes a step toward me; I immediately jolt backward again. It’s like playing cat and mouse. Dorian grows impatient. He looks sexy when he’s angry.

  “I said no!” I’m implacable.

  The next thing I know, Dorian is pinning me to the wall behind me. A jolt of arousal shots through me. Our chests are touching, and I can feel his torso moving quickly up and down with his breathing. He gazes at me as if he wants to read something from my eyes.

  “Do you think you have any power over me?” Dorian asks. His lips are only about an inch from my ear. His warm breath causes a shiver to run down my spine. “You can’t tell me what to do and what to tell you, nor how to treat you.” His face is tense, and he looks utterly intimidating, but I’m not scared.

  More than by fear, I’m paralyzed and sobered by his closeness. I’m trapped in his muscular arms. I rest my trembling hands on Dorian’s chest, gorging myself on the warmth he’s emanating, but a second later he grabs my wrist, thwarting me.

  “Stop that!”

  “Why?”

  We freeze, locked in a mutual gaze. My throat feels parched, and my knees tremble, but I don’t break our eye contact. His eyes hide a secret; I want to discover it. I need to discover it.

  “Who are you, Zara?” This time he whispers, leaning his forehead against mine. All his anger seems to evaporate like magic, giving way to frustration, as if he can’t solve a simple puzzle.

  “You know who I am,” I respond, closing my eyes. My breath speeds up.

  “You don’t understand.” Slowly, he traces his fingertip from my lips, which I part slightly at his touch, down to my neck. An unfulfilled need grows in me. “But how is it possible that you don’t know anything…?”

  “I want to understand; you can tell me,” I assure him, wrapping my arms around his neck and inhaling his scent deep into my lungs.

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  “No…” He grabs my hand, but doesn’t pull it away from his neck; rather, he squeezes it gently. He seems to be battling with himself. “You’re different. You can’t be one of them. I don’t want you to be.”

  “To be who?” The blood is pulsating in my ears. When Dorian brushes his lips against mine, I’m shrouded in a mist of desire.

  “No.”

  Maybe if I were a bit more persistent, he would finally break and reveal the truth. However, I’m too drained to keep pushing. The only thing I want right now is for Dorian to stop teasing me and actually kiss me. I want to savor his taste and cross this intimate boundary that’s keeping us apart.

  Dorian perfectly deciphers my silent request, but instead of crushing his lips against mine, he teases me, gently biting my lower lip. It stokes a slowly growing fire in me, and a sigh escapes me. Our eyes meet again. His pupils dilate; he wants it as much as I do.

  Finally, his lips land tenderly on mine in a soft kiss. Excitement wells up in me as I inhale his scent, which I know so well. Now I get to learn his taste as well, and my instincts take over. My fingers run up his neck and though his soft hair. My heart races in my chest; my breathing quickens, and I begin kissing him more fiercely, hungry for him. I push my hips into him, angling my neck so that I can deepen the kiss further, and as I do so, he breaks our kiss and pulls away.

  “We need to stop. You don’t know what you’re doing,” he pants.

  “I know exactly what I’m doing.” I take a step toward him.

  “How strong is your will?”

  He catches me off-guard with the question; it takes a moment for my brain to register what he just asked me.

  “Why are you asking?”

  “Answer,” he demands.

  “Infinite,” I say with no hesitation, “but I still don’t under—”

  “Are you sure?” he cuts in.

  “Yes.”

  There’s a brief moment of charged silence, and then everything speeds up. Dorian slams his tongue into my mouth this time, kissing me frenziedly. I don’t resist; on the contrary, I let myself go with the flow of passion and respond enthusiastically. This kiss sends new spirals of ecstasy through me. My fingers are clenched in his hair. He slides his hands down my body and grasps my hips, and lifts me up. I wrap my legs around his waist. I’m burning, driven by desire. I clutch his neck, and without breaking our intoxicating embrace, Dorian carries me all the way through the living room and then past the kitchen.

  I know where we’re headed; every step he takes assures me I’m right. My heart thumps in my chest. I’m right—the bedroom downstairs is our destination. As we walk through the door, he pulls away a bit.

  “Zara, you can still say no.”

  “Not in a million years,” I say, and attack his lips again. He doesn’t let me indulge in his sweet taste for too long, pushing me onto the bed. Irresistible, uncontrollable desire makes me feel like I’m losing my mind.

  Dorian snatches my wrists and pins them to the bed. “Don’t move,” he instructs me as he strips off my clothes, leaving only my underwear on.

  I feel an incredible urge to touch him, pull him closer to me, feel the warmth of his skin, but I obey him, holding as still as I can. He places hundreds of kisses on my body, starting from my neck and finishing right above my underwear. The spots that he kisses and bites sear pleasantly. I tremble; thrill after thrill rolls through my body, increasing the tension to breaking point. I’m drugged with him, his touch, his scent, his taste, overwhelmed with lust.

  Dorian is a master of reading the signals of my body; he doesn’t need me to guide him. He pleases me exactly the way I want, touches where I like it the most, neither too hard nor too soft—just right. Our eyes lock; the desire between us is excruciating. I can’t take this anymore.

  At last, he presses his body to mine. I rip off his shirt and throw it aside, then dig my nails into his back and rake them down along his spine. He groans quietly.

  “I want you,” he whispers, burying his face in my neck, inhaling my scent. “You’re so irresistible.” His hands wander across my body. I can’t keep up with the sensations bombarding me.

  “Then take me,” I encourage him, and wrap my legs around his hips.

  He thrusts his tongue into my mouth. It’s rough and I like it. He seems desperate, out of control. I’ve never seen him with his guard down like this. The only things separating us are the remaining clothes, which Dorian hastily gets rid of. He pushes my legs apart. I twine my legs around him to lock us together, inviting him to finally slide inside me, but he lingers, keeping me in painful anticipation.

  “You’re so different,” he gasps. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t hurt me.” I close his lips with a passionate kiss.

  There’s no more fighting, no more doubt. He gives me sweet relief, slowly, inch by inch. My body welcomes him with pleasure. I can hear him whispering how good I feel into my ear, which sets me on fire. I shudder beneath him, crying for more. He stimulates parts of me I didn’t even know existed. Our souls seem to meld together while we’re so close.

  When he finally brings me to the edge and over, I clutch his arms, unable to hold back my screams at the pleasure that explodes through me. I melt into him; there’s no Zara and Dorian, there is only us, fused by our bodies, minds and souls. A piece of me will forever st
ay with him.

  When we’re done, his chest heaves; I lie on top of it. My face is nestled in the crook of his neck, devouring his smell. I’m happy in his embrace. After a dreamy silence, I lift my head and fix my eyes on his face; Dorian seems far away, present only with his body, not his mind.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” I say, cuddled up against his chest.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Perfectly fine,” I reply through my grin. How could I feel any different while a whole flood of endorphins is filling me up to the brim?

  “It’s hard to believe,” he says.

  “What is?”

  “That for the past ten minutes you haven’t stopped smiling.”

  The bedroom is enveloped in darkness; how does he know? “How do you—”

  “A wild guess.”

  “Bravo,” I say, and place a kiss on his smooth cheek. “Is that what these intense relationships look like?”

  “Roughly speaking.” He runs his fingers through my long hair.

  “Are we in one now?”

  “Wil you ever stop asking me questions?”

  “I will when you start answering them.” I stroke his chest.

  “We can’t continue this.”

  His bluntness feels like a slap in the face. The upturned edges of my mouth go down.

  How can he be so callous? He should at least pretend that he cares as long as we’re in the same bed.

  A wave of humiliation rushes over me. I feel used and deceived, even though deep inside I’m conscious that I have no right to feel this way; Dorian never promised me anything before I decided to end up in bed with him.

  “Why?” I sit up, breaking our embrace.

  “Because.”

  “That’s not an answer. Don’t I deserve a couple more words from you?”

  “Please, don’t make this harder.”

  Something breaks inside me. I’m like a little child who’s been given the most delicious candy in the world, and after having it, have been told I’ll never get it again. I want to cry, yell, maybe even throw a glass against the wall. Over the last ten minutes I’ve been hoping that everything will change from now on between Dorian and me, and even that maybe he’ll eventually open up to me. He, however, remains unmoved. It never even crossed his mind to let me into his little world of secrets. The fact that I just gave myself away to him means nothing.