Enthralled: A Box Set

by Pamela Ann

  “Oh—well… uh… what did… you want?” she stuttered her words out before licking her lips and clashing those tantalizing orbs at me.

  What did I want? Whatever she was reluctant to give, my mind automatically said as I looked down at her, wondering how her hand would feel against my skin. “Touch me, Isobel.”

  Her fingers shook as she bit down on her lip before giving me a tortured face, thus making me ache further for her touch. I let out a harsh breath when she made contact. She brushed her finger on the tip as she stared at my cock with fascination twinkling in her eyes. This woman hadn’t done much, however her mere here-and-there touches almost made me combust inside. Her vulnerability, reluctance, and curiosity made a heady, potent concoction for me, and I simply couldn’t get enough. I wanted more…

  “Make me come in your hands, ma belle.”

  She swallowed whatever saliva she had before she gripped my length firmer, harder as she began her ministrations.

  “Grip the base and focus on the head.”

  She did as I asked her before I gradually started to thrust my hips into her palms, shutting my lids close as I focused all of my senses on one part of my anatomy, basking on her sensual hands and fingers. Lust veiled my sight as I opened them to watch her work me well, and by God, what a sight she was.

  “Look at me. Give me those beautiful eyes, ma belle. I want to stare at them while you stroke my cock. I want to see your soul while you make me come in your hands.”

  The sexy, shy kitten did as I requested, stroking the deep, sensual furnace within my body before it escalated to its peak and erupted beautifully, magnificently in her hands.

  Sixty-Six

  Hugo

  After watching her perform on me, following as I asked her what to do, sure was enough for me to decide what to do next. Though I admit, her looks alone already gave her a ninety-nine percent guarantee of approval.

  Half an hour later, I called on Benoît for the contracts before I strode into the adjoining bathroom to clean up. She did the same, blushing as she requested if she could clean up as well before Benoît got there.

  Casually nodding before I watched her sprint towards the bathroom, I strode towards the end of the coffee table in the corner room to have a shot of my favored “M” whiskey. This was a limited production, and its rarity made it all the more compelling to acquire. Every drop was exceptional, just like the woman who had temporarily fled into the bathroom.

  The soft knock made me glance towards the door. “Oui?”

  “Here’s what you requested, Monsieur.” Benoît strode into the room before setting down the folder atop the marbled antique table. He made a quick glance towards the bathroom before giving me a curt nod.

  “Merci beaucoup, Benoît,” I murmured as I wondered what he thought about the deal I had with Constantin Callas. It wasn’t anyone’s business, but Benoît had been with me for over a decade, and I didn’t just see him as someone I employed. Through the years, a bond had formed, and I considered him a friend.

  Alas, there was another problem I needed him to handle. “In regards to Dana, will you please do the necessary steps and send me a video during the interrogation. I wish to no longer see her.”

  He gave me a knowing look before clearing his throat. “As you wish. I’ll take care of it in the morning.”

  “C’est parfait.” (Sounds perfect.)

  “Bonsoir, Monsieur Xavier.”

  I nodded, bidding him the same.

  The soft creak of the opening bathroom door made me aware she was coming out, but I didn’t glance up to watch her move and sway her hips as she walked. Instead, I threw my head back and emptied the contents of the glass in my hand before helping myself to another dose of the amber contents that didn’t seem to lessen the burn doing a maelstrom in my groin. I needed a moment to gather my thoughts without looking at her and devouring her on the spot.

  Her touch had merely whet my appetite and I wanted more—so much more. The second she signed the contract, the better.

  Still not looking at her, I addressed the envelope that sat on the table. “The contract is ready. Go over the details, and if you have other demands, let me know so we can negotiate before a new one can be drawn up first thing tomorrow.”

  “Okay,” she murmured softly before I heard her take a seat and go through the sheets of papers enclosed.

  All this time, I had been taking one shot after the other, breathing in calmness, bidding my time so I wouldn’t have such an evident hard-on before I decided to face her.

  After a moment or two of thinking I had cooled off a bit, I spun around and my eyes immediately darted towards the view of her back. I noted how delicate her neck was then paused a moment, frowning. Merde! Since when did I care or notice a woman’s neck, delicate or not? Hissing at myself, I gave her a moment or two as she scanned the contract.

  Denying myself from going through the pleasures I was accustomed to had been a mistake because it had boggled my mind. I was noticing things that usually didn’t heighten my libido. First thing tomorrow, I would need Chantel to come to me before I showered to do some laborious working out.

  Problem solved, I was in a much better mood.

  “Have you skimmed through it?” I casually asked as I took the sofa opposing her, needing to see her face and what she thought of it. I had a knack for reading people’s minds before they voiced their opinions. Isobel wasn’t any different.

  “Yes.” Her eyes remained on the pages, flickering through the words, absorbing the details.

  “Do you find it agreeable?

  She shook her head, looking frustrated. “I will have to take a semester off school since it says six months here.” She released a breath. “Summer break is only three months.”

  Merde. How old was she? How come I forgot to ask her this one vital question? She couldn’t be eighteen, could she? Imbécile! (Moron.) How did this slip my mind? Because your cock twitched and it was all you could think about then, my mind immediately supplied the answer. So much for fair thinking…

  Looking at her in the eye, I prayed she wasn’t that young. “How old are you, Isobel?”

  “I’m twenty-three. It’s my final year before I graduate…”

  Thank goodness she wasn’t as young as I’d feared.

  “Where do you study?”

  “In England, but my home is Athens. I was here to visit my father for a week because my mother asked it of me.”

  So Callas was here vacationing his summer in Monaco to gamble away while his family was back home in Athens? What a remarkable man, I thought sourly. My own father could be cruel in his own right, but he never once abandoned me for his own pleasures, even after my mother died a few years after giving birth to me. Eli Xavier was tough, but even with his hard exterior I never once questioned his love or intentions.

  Flickering my gaze back to the beguiling woman, I knew I wouldn’t want any more than the six months offered. Besides, the old man Callas needed to be taught a lesson. I’d have to make sure he was banned in all the casinos in Monaco and France. If he wanted to gamble, he’d have to go elsewhere.

  “The agreement is for six months, ma belle. That’s up to you if you want to sign it or not.”

  She gave me a seething look before breaking away. “You know I don’t have a choice.”

  I did, and I had to capitalize on it because there was something about her I wanted to taste. She looked too delectable—supple and ripe—and the thought of roughening her up a little with disheveled hair, bruised lips from kisses, and raw, throbbing lips from my passions… What decent man with standards wouldn’t be tempted to make an exception?

  This was the main problem with us. Place sex, beauty, and innocence in an equation, and men would have a hard time looking away; would have a tough time fighting their own animal urges to dominate and mark the very woman who had their engines revved up like no other.

  I was the very same man. Even though I had always vowed not to play in this sort of field, a
lot of men in my world took part in it. It had always amused me, but it had never come to a point where I had wanted to actually see and sample it myself. Beauty like hers didn’t come often, however.

  Alors. I was here and I fully intended to enjoy it as much as I could.

  “Hugo?” Her soft voice with my name on her lips almost made me groan in frustration.

  “Oui, ma belle?”

  “You said I could negotiate terms… I have a few of my own…”

  This certainly got my full, undivided attention as I wondered what she’d negotiate with me. “Go on?”

  She took a deep breath and exhaled as loudly as she’d inhaled, as if she was preparing to say something she knew would displease me. “My stipulations are… well… uh… I don’t want vaginal sex, even if there’s protection. It’s non-negotiable.”

  I waited a beat or two, hoping she meant it as a joke. But when her face remained the same, I instantly blew up. “Mon dieu! What’s the point of all of this then? I want you in my bed, and I won’t have it any other way!” What man would agree to such an atrocious deal?

  My outburst didn’t seem to bother her as she slowly stood up to face my enraged state. “I will be in your bed—be your third woman—never question that. And we’ll be having sex, but not there…”

  I froze, eyeing her as if she had grown horns on her head. “Come again? I think I misheard you.”

  “You didn’t. You heard me fine.”

  Taking a few steps to meet her, I gave enough distance because I didn’t trust myself to be this close to her and not dump her in bed, open her legs, and plow into her supple body. “You don’t want vaginal, but anal you’re okay with?” What madness was this? Besides, what kind of woman would agree to such an arrangement? “May I ask why?”

  She didn’t blink before giving me an answer. “Everything is personal… except for that.”

  Isobel was young, maybe her understanding in what was personal and what wasn’t had been muddled by her ex-lovers?

  “Ma belle, you might confuse the two, but trust me when I tell you that anal is personal; probably more personal than anything. Virginity is a rarity these day, but anal virginity isn’t something a woman casually gives to any man they come across—it’s for the man they love or trust. I am neither of those in your life.”

  “Not to me. I find the other way much more sacred, and I only share that with someone I love. I hope this doesn’t offend you, Hugo, but I’m trying very hard here to meet your needs as well as my own.”

  She was honest; I’d give her that. This certainly placed a strain on my plans. “Very well. If you insist.” I was getting half of what I’d hoped; however it wasn’t all lost. “You said you wanted a few. What are the others?”

  “I want my own bedroom.”

  Sleeping with my lovers wasn’t a thing I was accustomed to. She’d know soon enough. “It’s already waiting for you, ma belle. What else?”

  “If there’s an emergency that would need me to go home, I’d like it if you wouldn’t hinder that right for me.”

  Family was important. It was one thing my father had instilled in me. I respected that. “Without question, family comes first.” I nodded in agreement. “Anything else?”

  “That was all I needed, Hugo.”

  “Very well. I will have these alterations drawn up tomorrow. It should be ready at nine thirty in the morning and should be in time for breakfast. I’ll see you then, Isobel.”

  Blushing, she gave me a small, encouraging smile. “Thank you for giving me a chance,” she murmured before leaving me to watch after her exit of my bedroom.

  If I was confused before, I was more confused after that odd sentiment. She said thank you—she was giving me her body, yet she said thank you!

  Merde.

  Sixty-Seven

  Isobel

  “Can you make a fresh espresso, s'il vous plait,” Hugo directed without flicking his eyes towards me as they roamed the computer screens before him, studying the red and green graphs.

  I paused, eyes stuck staring at his striking side profile before making a curt nod to myself. “Of course, Mister Xavier.”

  “Hugo, Isobel.” Dark pools of chocolate brown eyes zeroed in on me, making me breathy and out of sorts.

  “Hugo,” I breathed his name, feeling flushed. “All right, Hugo. I’ll go make you your espresso.” Closing my eyes briefly to push my embarrassment aside, I slowly made my way out of his plush office and into the kitchen right outside the area for his secretary and two of his personal assistants, who were working in a hushed, serene manner.

  It’s been a week since that night I signed my contract, and for the past seven days, this was something I hadn’t expected to be doing—fetching everything he wanted and needed.

  I unassumingly became his assistant—his third one. The man had a great team that offered more help than any man should need, and still, he bossed me around like a pet or an irrelevant person.

  It wasn’t anger I felt but more of a feeling between unappreciated and devalued. It was as though I wasn’t good enough to be with him like how Sherry or Chantel were. A blessing was how I saw it because it truly was. I had thought the second I signed he’d become this brute of a man who wouldn’t care about what the terms and conditions I stipulated were. Then, true to his word, he had surprisingly stuck to them, and I had been almost sure he would break it. However, seven days later, the man had yet to do anything sexual with me.

  After that night, nothing had happened. I wasn’t complaining—not really—but I was more apprehensive because there had to be a meaning behind all of this, shouldn’t there? A man couldn’t want one woman then change his mind the second she said she wouldn’t be willing to have vaginal sex with him. Some would even argue that men would see this as a challenge. Still, Hugo Xavier had not shown any interest in me at all except for giving me orders to get him this and that. For three hundred thousand euros, this job I was doing was puny, but who was I to complain? This was what I had hoped for when I signed, although I couldn’t help feeling the bite of his rejection.

  My imagination had run amuck, and I had pictured all sorts of ugly scenarios in my head the moment I signed those six months of my life away, yet he had become the polar opposite of that hungered, over-eager man. What had happened? Every night I would try to remember, but nothing caught my attention to satisfy my question.

  He’d been civilized and courteous, asking me every day if everything was okay for me, and I couldn’t be more baffled at his personality. Apart from his appallingly beautiful good looks that always left me dumbfounded, I had learned he was well-received and well-loved by the people he employed, in the villa and his casinos.

  Being Greek, I knew a lot about male pride and ego, which Hugo Xavier had in spades; however, it was a first for me to see a man that prided himself and yet never forgot to greet his employees when it was their birthday, or when it was their wedding anniversary. He even went as far as to give them free hotel stays and other perks they loved getting by being employed by him. Granted, my father’s business wasn’t as grand or lavish as this one, however he never treated his people this way. Cracking a smile towards your workers would be a sin in my father’s eyes.

  It was a refreshing change, and after learning bits and pieces of him for the past week, I felt almost secure he wouldn’t harm me—not at all the way I had pictured it in my head.

  Taking a fresh cup from the cupboard, I absentmindedly took a call when my phone rang in my hand. “Hello?”

  “Isobel…”

  I stilled, shutting my eyes as I cherished the sound of my name. “Damen.”

  He groaned in vain. “Please tell me you’ve changed your mind. You can’t seriously break-up with me through a voicemail, Izz.”

  Izz. That was his nickname for me. Damen was my first boyfriend, my first love. My first everything. Breaking up with him a week before had not been easy, but I had to do what I must to save my family.

  In my heart, if what
Hugo had said was true, then six months of waiting for me wouldn’t be a problem. Could it? Hopefully, by then, I could have all of this behind me. Damen was the reason I had requested the clause in the contract. Because I knew, deep down, what I was doing was wrong, yet values wouldn’t save my family. Subsequently, I had needed a couple alterations to avoid betraying the man I loved in all aspects. It was a small compromise, I knew, but it was all I could do at the moment.

  My heart was Damen’s, and it would always stay that way, even if Hugo Xavier made me feel things—things that were forbidden. One penetrating look of his eyes never failed to draw something out of my body. It was raw. Carnal. Magnetizing.

  The man exuded power and beauty with each breath he took, women sighed at the sight of him. Moreover, even though I found his handsomeness disarming most of the time, it would be a mistake if I got carried away and submitted to the animalistic, passionate man hiding behind those tantalizing eyes.

  He was the kind of man who needed full submission from his woman, most especially in the bedroom. It was something I had never feared because I wasn’t like Sherry or Chantel, who both had fallen into the Xavier spell. No. I was a woman in love with another man. A man whom I had vowed to spend the rest of my life with at the tender age of sixteen—before we had even shared our first kiss.

  Hugo Xavier was just a man—nothing extraordinary. Six months with him wouldn’t jeopardize me emotionally. I was certain of it.

  Sixty-Eight

  Hugo

  I watched as Isobel carefully placed the espresso cup and saucer next to me, and how gracefully she slightly bent her body while protruding her delectable bottom as her provocative scent blanketed my space. I tensed as her scent filled me from my nostrils all the way down to my chest, sitting low in my stomach before settling in my groin. Cocking my head to the side, I silently cursed in vain, hating the fact she had this effect on me. She was just so… feminine and so achingly gorgeous that it was hard not to be affected by her. One look was all it took. It stoked the temptation I had pushed aside for the past week.