Enthrall Climax

by Vanessa Fewings

  My skin tingled, my sex squeezing with desire, my submissive nature rearing to tease the promise that blinding pleasure awaited.

  Alone in the staff room, with my hands trembling, I tried to hold an ice-filled glass beneath the water fountain. A cold drink would help take this inner heat down. I was burning up with passion again from reminiscing about my time in Cameron’s office.

  If I moved upstairs, this play was going to be a daily occurrence. This promotion was not without its benefits, I mused.

  Damn Cameron. He’d left me with this unquenchable thirst. I’d needed his cock inside me like I needed oxygen.

  He was dragging out his demanding kinkiness by forcing me to continue wearing these chains as a reminder of what I’d missed after he’d revved me to the max. My body shuddered as those memories swept over me…every move, every step, pulled and tantalized—leading all thoughts back to him.

  Why couldn’t he have just taken me hard on his desk and put me out of my misery—he was punishing me for leaving early without him this morning.

  Gulping more water to quench my thirst, I tried to think of anything but him, his touch, his kiss, his mastery, the devilish way he spanked my pussy, yet I was desperate for more.

  I was ablaze, enraptured by the way his cologne lingered. Pressing my forearm to my nose, I inhaled his provocative scent. I could have told him no, could have insisted I get back to my desk, but he’d stood there with his hands shoved in his pockets ruling the room and wielding his authority.

  I was addicted to his touch; the way his hand moved over me with the ease of a man who’d explored my curves and knew what I needed and could perfectly deliver it.

  By the time I made it back to my cubicle, I had perspiration spotting my upper lip and my heart was racing from the effort of trying to subdue this terrible ache inside me.

  I whipped my cell phone out of my handbag, ready to beg him to let me take off the chains. The call went to his private voicemail.

  Right. Great. This is fine.

  Fuck it…

  With trembling hands, I fumbled trying to get Shay on the line. My call went to voicemail again.

  Leaving early could get me in all sorts of trouble. Still, with just half an hour left, it was possible that no one would notice if I just slipped away…

  The memory of Cameron’s touch down there caused me to shiver. I was caught in the eye of a storm that was Cameron Cole. Snapping up my purse, I scurried over to the elevator and practically leaped in when the doors slid open.

  Pressing my phone to my ear, I left another message. “Cameron, please call me.”

  Ignoring my calls was his way of proving he had power over me. That teasing in his office had been the least of his manipulation. Cole was a persuasive man, yet I still had some fight left in me.

  In a daze, I walked through the foyer and headed for the exit, stepping through the revolving door. Light rain touched my skin and brought freshness to the air. Raising my face to the sky, I let the droplets fall on me and sprinkle my clothes.

  I wanted to run through the rain. Let the freedom soak in.

  The idea of making my own way home sinfully beckoned.

  HYPER-VIGILANT, I WALKED BESIDE SHAY as we followed the dominatrix down a sprawling hallway, my thoughts processing every possible scenario.

  These places tended to have heavy hitters running them. Although I admired this high-end club for having its priorities straight by not letting just anyone in—like me, the man without the membership—it was unsettling because I’d not had time to research the place. The stakes were high if an interloper got hold of sensitive information or even snapped a photo—the risk of blackmail ever present to the elite who’d entrusted their fetishes for a steep price.

  The voice of Ariana Grande replaced the classical music. That, and the modern décor, seemed specifically designed to appease a younger clientele with too much money.

  I gave a sideways glance at Shay. I’d sabotaged his adventure and now he was going to have to endure my witty repartee on how I saved his ass.

  Within a minute, we were standing in what looked like the director’s office. Our dominatrix host folded her arms across her chest and leaned back against her impressively sized desk.

  A brief scan of the room confirmed the office was possibly hers. A blue Louis Vuitton handbag lay on the seat of a leather chair and the room’s décor exuded a feminine touch.

  She’d haphazardly lined up her books on the left hand bookcase, avoiding a reverence. The number of books on travel told me she obviously had a thing for Europe. On the back wall, she proudly displayed her instruments of kink: bejeweled butt plugs, whips, handcuffs, chains. The sight of them, and other accoutrements, stirred my intrigue and had me feeling nostalgic.

  This was her territory and I’d be wise to let her know I accepted that.

  “I didn’t catch your name?” I asked.

  “Galina.” She shot me a hard look. “But you will address me as Mistress.”

  So she wanted to play it that way.

  Her vying for domination over us was awe-inspiring, but allowing her the upper hand wasn’t going to happen. I scanned the room again as a whisper of intuition told me this wasn’t her office after all. Though she’d wanted us to believe it.

  My gaze landed back on her, and I tried to get a take on what we were dealing with. A flutter of her eyelashes revealed she wasn’t the boss and was used to deferring. Her pouty mouth had quivered when we’d first stepped out of the elevator, and she’d glanced behind her as we’d followed. Someone else was in charge and she seemed fearful of them.

  I stepped forward. “Mr. Gardner had no idea I was coming to meet with him.” I threw in a smile.

  Galina bit her lip, showing a further hint of sub by lowering her gaze. Then her expression settled into a serious frown. She was thinking, “What would the boss do?”

  She turned that dark glare on Shay. “There’s a fine.”

  “Of course,” Shay replied, contrition in his tone.

  “Five million.” She delivered it with panache.

  Shay’s back stiffened. “No way.”

  “It is in your contract, Mr. Gardner. Or your membership is rescinded.”

  I applauded her Domme spirit. “Look, this is a misunderstanding.”

  “Excuse me?” she snapped.

  My jaw tightened. “I am a trustworthy source. I understand this community. I won’t divulge the existence of this place. You have my word.”

  “Had you been a member, we could have confirmed this with a background check.”

  “I need to speak with your director.”

  She ignored me. “You had an appointment, Mr. Gardner,” she chastised. “We expect you to keep it.”

  “Is this part of the play?” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “It’s kinda hot.” Shay was trying humor, but it wasn’t going to work.

  This woman lived the lifestyle and wasn’t about to cave for a new member and his interloping friend.

  “Our clientele depend on our rules to protect them,” she said.

  “I get it,” I said, moving closer to her. “I’ll pay a fine. However, it’s not going to be anywhere close to the sum you mentioned.”

  A knock at the door had us all turning to look at the Somali beauty who’d tried to seduce us in the pool spa. She bowed her head as she approached Galina and handed her a note.

  We both got the chance to take another look at the young woman, who avoided our gaze and quickly scurried back to the door. She was right there within reach and it pained me to let her leave. From her appearance I could tell she was barely even close to the age of consent—though it was hard to be certain because she was playing the submissive role so well.

  If I asked Galina about her and she became defensive, we could lose the chance to help her.

  Galina’s gaze rose from the note to meet mine. “Cameron Cole?”

  Shit. There went my anonymity. Her security had researched Shay’s contacts and my name and
photo had obviously come up alongside his.

  She pointed at me. “What if this man was with the press, Mr. Gardner, and not from Cole Tea, Inc.?” Her smirk carried a threat.

  “You have a good point,” Shay agreed. “I’m not comfortable with that fine though.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “Compromise then. You keep your appointment and reassure us this will never happen again.”

  Shay nodded. “Of course.”

  “Mr. Cole will accompany you.” She looked triumphant.

  I turned to face Shay to reassure him I had his back.

  But Shay gave me a look of intrigue, as though he were trying to let me know he wanted more time here to suss out the place. I didn’t need him to be a hero.

  “We have to go now,” I told Galina.

  “Oh, the fine still stands.” She was back in that defiant pose.

  “I’ll see you back at the office.” Shay gave me a knowing look and then headed out without glancing back.

  Stubborn bastard. This had “bad idea” written all over it.

  Maybe I’d misread Shay’s decision. Maybe this was him taking the hit. I ran through his expression, his body language, his quick exit from the room as I returned my focus to Galina.

  With a shrug I admitted defeat and headed out into the hallway. A wave of uncertainty hit me about leaving Shay behind. This had probably been his way of getting the spotlight back on him as he took the fall.

  My back stiffened when I recognized the man walking quickly toward me as Lance Merrill. He reminded me of a silver fox with his shiny grey hair and beard. His air of sophistication and his five thousand dollar suit revealed the wealth he’d garnered from his oil baron status.

  This man had almost destroyed my friendship with Richard five months ago, when he’d come after Mia back at Chrysalis, having won her at an auction. He’d literally had me hiding her away in London to avoid him. He’d tracked us down and had turned obtaining Mia into a sport. It shouldn’t surprise me he was a member.

  Later, when the truth had spilled like that oil he was so fond of, I’d ascertained he’d believed I’d somehow threatened his daughter, when in truth it had been me who had talked her off the roof during a suicide attempt. I’d saved her life—which was probably why Lance greeted me with the warmth of an old friend. I’d have been willing to take a detour through hell today in order to avoid him.

  His face brightened and he pulled me into a hug. “Cole! How’s the family?”

  “Fine, yours?” My back stiffened further as I remembered what he’d done to Mia. That man had almost gotten her raped in England.

  His expression changed. “Helete and I are divorcing.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  Lance looked amused. “Thought you hated her?”

  I gave him a wry smile, not wanting to get into it. After all, it had been Helete who’d led Lance to believe it was me who’d ruined their daughter after a weekend at Pendulum, and not the senator Helete had tried to protect.

  “How long have you been a member?” I asked.

  “This place is not what it used to be. You joined?”

  “Visiting.” I turned to glance at Galina, who was standing a little ways back, apparently waiting to escort me out. If she knew Lance, she was pretending she didn’t, which was kind of odd, but I didn’t want my brain to focus on the banal.

  “Good to see you.” He threw a courteous smile at Galina.

  There was a crackle in the air and it wasn’t coming from me.

  I mirrored his friendly sentiment with a forced smile.

  “My daughter is doing great. They both are. Thank you, Cameron, for all you did.”

  “Of course.”

  He leaned forward and whispered, “Don’t join.”

  His remark proved my gut feeling about this place—it wasn’t what it seemed. “It’s good to see you, too, Lance,” I replied flatly, feeling Galina’s stare fixed on us.

  One thing I’d never considered a possibility was me relating to the man walking away with a wary step in his gait.

  Leaving Shay felt wrong, but I had to trust his decision. I summoned the elevator and stepped in.

  Galina followed until she had me backed up against the elevator wall. “You know Mr. Merrill?”

  “Old acquaintance.”

  “That is right. You used to run Chrysalis?”

  How the hell did she know that?

  “You miss it?” She closed in on me.

  “How long have you worked here?”

  “This is my life’s calling.”

  “I respect that.”

  Her alluring perfume wafted over me. I had a sudden urge to reach out and wrap my fingers around her throat because I knew she’d like it. An interesting reaction but then again she’d dug her manicured fingernail into my chest, and if she was going for pain she’d hit her mark.

  She let go and with a tilt of her head offered herself. “My office or a dungeon, Mr. Cole?”

  Thoughts of Mia yanked me back from the brink. “I’m impressed with your security. Keep up the good work.” It sounded obtuse but I wanted her to get the fuck out so I could descend.

  “So you are the great Cameron Cole?”

  “I’ve retired.”

  “Yet you are here?”

  “Galina, I have to go.”

  “Your penchant is what we specialize in. Anything you desire.”

  “I’m late.”

  “Isn’t your fetish to chase, catch, and fuck?”

  A direct blow to my privacy.

  Maybe her boss knew me. This was a private desire someone back at Chrysalis had leaked. A submissive perhaps, after I’d chased down willing victims and owned them for more hours then they’d deserved. I hadn’t minded it coming out back then. My badass attitude to dominate had served me well. Richard had found it amusing, mainly because he always boasted he was too lazy to hunt. He wanted them already trained. He wanted them ready to submit and his reluctance to train Mia had started me on an unpredictable path.

  The thought of returning to Mia made me want to end this situation in a hurry.

  “Tell me what you like?” she purred.

  I’d not seen the benefit of giving away my game play. Not then. Not now.

  Her palm rested on my chest. “Your pupils are dilated. You want in.”

  “It’s a dark elevator,” I replied coldly, knocking her hand away.

  “I’m sure your friend is having fun.”

  “Good for him.” I glanced at the DOWN button.

  “Luckily, Mr. Gardner is a seasoned submissive, so he will be able to handle the session.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “He booked an hour with Master Kristoff.”

  Galina smiled, reading my expression. She knew I’d heard that name before. Kristoff was a psycho and he’d been banned from the west coast clubs because he was into the hard play—whether his client consented or not—all in the name of ego.

  This place made Chrysalis look tame.

  I clenched my fists when I thought of him touching Shay. “Take me to the room he’s in.”

  “You will have to agree to let the scene play out.”

  “Have you ever seen one of those exhibitions where they skin a dead body and then display the corpse?”

  She stepped back. “Body Works?”

  “If you don’t take me to Mr. Gardner right now, that’s going to be your new look.” I forced a smile. “It’ll go with your Louis Vuitton.”

  She showed no reaction, other than a nod, and spun on her heel and swaggered out. I followed her into the heart of the club, moving fast down the sprawling hallway ready to extract Shay from whatever situation he’d gotten himself into. I wasn’t about to let one of my friends be subjected to a Dom with no talent or scruples.

  Galina led me to the doorway of a room, and I gave her the kind of look that told her she wasn’t welcome inside. She walked away unperturbed.

  The lights were dimmed in the dark chamber, wh
ich had burgundy walls. The temperature felt overly chilled, perhaps to enhance the feeling of vulnerability. The kind of equipment one would expect from a high-end club was present; chrome and wood balanced to showcase a natural aura. Accoutrements decorated the far wall.

  Here and there were ancient torture devices, and I fondly recalled having seen some of these replicas back at Chrysalis, though they’d been museum pieces that resembled what you’d find in a London dungeon—and they had never been used. What these devices were doing in here was baffling.

  I should be horrified.

  They say if you hate someone it’s because you see yourself in them. It was a painful reality to bear, especially for my realization that I was envious of Kristoff. He continued to thrive in the scene with no consequences.

  The view from the shadows was mesmerizing.

  I missed this.

  Shay was naked and strapped to a Saint Andrew’s Cross. He’d been bound in leather restraints to hold him there. Red light shimmied off his sun-kissed torso and rock hard abs, and his erection let me know that he wasn’t fighting this…yet.

  Any normal man with a conscience would have stormed over to their friend and removed him without question—yet I hesitated, inexplicably taken with the setting. The compulsion to take control was so alluring. Here I was condemning Kristoff, and back in the day, I could’ve probably been accused of some fairly dangerous acts when I’d dabbled—though I always received consent from my carefully selected partners, intricately mastering the submissive, many of whom had traveled across continents to satisfy their need for a more immersive experience.

  I was hit with a raging desire in my soul to prove life was more…so much more than boring routines and my carefully orchestrated restraint for order’s sake, which felt more like suppression.

  My chase, catch, and fuck addiction had first been explored in France when Danton had shown me the thrill of releasing our captives into the wilderness and then hunting them down in the private forest surrounding the Hillenbrand estate, our secret manor nestled in the countryside where I’d first explored my devilish side.