Enthrall Her

by Vanessa Fewings

  Cameron directed me where to sit and lifted my chair forward. Once settled, he planted a kiss on my cheek. The waft of his cologne alighted my senses and flashes of what we’d just gotten up came flooding back. He acted so demure now, regal even, so different from in the bedroom when he’d stunned me into submission.

  After nudging his aunt’s chair forward, he took a seat next to mine. My stomach did a flip when he rested his hand on my thigh, giving it a squeeze as though letting me know he was still in command. I hoped he wasn’t going to pull that trick of pain on my thigh he used on me way back when. Squeezing my thighs together, I hoped he got the message.

  In true fine dining tradition, we each chose a meal off the creme and gold menus, and much to my surprise I was allowed to choose my own. I decided on the Pacific Swordfish. Cameron chose the Kobe beef, as did his father. With the orders taken and our glasses topped up, I actually began to relax. This was a family affair that I’d never experienced before. A family all sitting around for dinner and catching up on their news. So different from my childhood of grabbing a bite to eat in front of the TV or taking it back to my room when my parents argued. I wondered if Mr. and Mrs. Cole ever disagreed, though the way they shared affectionate glances I doubted it.

  Cameron’s conversation with his father was about oil refineries and barrels being brought in by rail. Apparently suppliers were eager to tap an isolated market. Something about dwindling supplies in California. I had no idea that California was the third-biggest refining state in the U.S. To be honest, it was a little boring, so I honed in on what Mrs. Cole had to say. She and Willow were talking about their trip to Europe a few months ago.

  “We can’t wait to visit Italy again,” said Victoria. “Mia, how do you find Milan?”

  “I’ve never visited,” I said. “But I’d love to.”

  Cameron’s hand rested on my upper back and I felt the brush of his fingers pulling through my hair and making me tingle.

  Two waiters appeared out of nowhere and I was so thankful for the interruption. We were served our appetizer of caviar upon thin crackers. All three of them. I was grateful for this small portion and hoped the rest of the meal was like this. Following Cameron’s lead, I took a sip of champagne after taking my first bite of caviar, surprised with how the tang of bubbles went so well with the caviar. The combination popped on my tongue and burst with flavor. I beamed at him, unable to hide how much fun I was having.

  Despite not belonging in their world, I was made to feel welcome. The ease of conversation between all of them revealed that Cameron had indeed come from a happy and what appeared to be a well adjusted family. It was interesting to watch them interact, but the most fascinating relationship of all was between Victoria and Willow. Their mother and daughter connectedness, their frequent shared glances of affection to each other. Willow seemed to have had an extraordinary appreciation of how lucky she was to have a loving mother.

  Shoving down my regret for never having anything close to this with my own mom, I reached over and rested my hand on Cameron’s thigh.

  He leaned against me. “Can I get you anything?”

  “No thank you.” I sipped my champagne.

  “So, how did you two meet?” asked Willow.

  “It’s a long story,” said Cameron. “One we won’t bore you with.”

  “Why do men always think these things are boring?” said Aunt Rose. “You of all men must know how much we adore hearing about your adventures, Cameron.”

  “Let’s just say the first time I saw Mia she took my breath away. The rest is history.”

  “That’s lovely,” said Aunt Rose.

  “History is always skewered,” said Raife.

  He earned himself a tap of disapproval from his wife.

  The waiters reappeared, their timing perfect, and placed our meals before us. Glancing over at Cameron and reassured I had the right knife and fork in hand, I took a bite of swordfish. This was delicious too and I threw a glance over at Cameron to thank him.

  He leaned back in his chair. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Me too,” I said.

  “How’s your swordfish?”

  “Delicious. How’s your steak?”

  “Rare.”

  “You like it rare,” I said, throwing him a smile.

  “I find that I do,” he said, proving he too recalled that first evening we’d had dinner together.

  It was kind of fun to fake that Cameron had picked me out of zillions of hopefuls and I’d stolen his heart. He seemed to approve of my loving glances and we shared intimate gestures of affection—him holding my hand, me resting mine on his thigh.

  “Have you had the pleasure of meeting Richard Sheppard yet?” said Victoria.

  I froze mid-sip, glancing over to Cameron.

  “As expected, we all get along great,” said Cameron.

  “Isn’t he divine?” said Aunt Rose. “Why isn’t he here tonight?”

  “Last time I brought him to dinner at your behest,” said Cameron, “you accused me of being gay.”

  I burst out laughing, relieved that everyone else was laughing too.

  “You two boys are so close,” said Victoria. “Like two rogues in a pod.”

  “And remember, Mother,” said Willow. “We don’t use Richard’s real last name anymore.”

  “That’s right,” said Victoria, looking over at me. “Terrible business. You probably know all about it?”

  I gave a nod, realizing they were alluding to the illegal activity of Richard’s father and the suffering it had caused him.

  “Richard’s one very brave man,” said Cameron. “And, as with all of life’s challenges, he’s come out of it stronger.”

  Aunt Rose leaned over toward me. “Cameron’s holding off the announcement until you get the ‘you know what.’” She glanced at my ring finger, as though excited with keeping our secret.

  “I wanted to apologize for earlier,” I whispered. “In the foyer.”

  “Oh my dear,” said Aunt Rose. “Nothing to apologize for. Men need to be kept on their toes, and a little display like that ensures the furnace burns ever brightly. Besides, I always was a fan of Michelangelo.” She winked at me.

  She really was lovely. I felt terrible guilt about keeping up with this lie. I’d never been one for mistruths and it felt wrong to lead Aunt Rose on like this, especially as she was so incredibly nice.

  “What are you two whispering about over there?” said Victoria.

  “I was complimenting Mia on her choker,” said Aunt Rose. “Cameron has exquisite taste.”

  “He most certainly does,” said Victoria warmly. “And exclusive too.”

  Cameron shared a look with his mom. It was fleeting. He turned once more towards his dad, continuing what sounded like a tense conversation.

  “Just give it some thought,” said Raife.

  “Dad, we’ve been over this,” said Cameron.

  “And we are yet to come to a satisfactory conclusion.”

  “What you are essentially asking me to do is give up medicine,” said Cameron. “A profession I have studied for years and one that I excel in. I’m a good doctor.”

  “Your mother and I do not underestimate what it is we are asking of you, Cam, but—”

  “Don’t bring me into this,” said Victoria.

  Raife went on, “What I was going to say is that our business has been in our family for generations. Had your brother shown more of an interest…”

  My thoughts drifted with the revelation of a brother. There was so much more to learn.

  “Maybe later,” said Cameron, “I’ll become more involved. When I’m ready.”

  “We need a firm hand at the helm now,” said Raife. “Learning the business is essential.”

  “What about my commitment to my patients?” said Cameron. “They’ve grown to trust me.”

  “Surely you can transfer them over to another psychiatrist?” said Raife. “They won’t be left without care.”

&
nbsp; “Won’t the business be less stressful?” said Victoria. “Less dangerous.”

  “There’s no danger in the work I do,” said Cameron. “It’s medicine.”

  “What about that time you were attacked?” said Raife.

  “My patient was psychotic,” said Cameron. “It wasn’t his fault.”

  “Oh, well that’s perfectly fine then,” said Raife.

  I sat up straight. “No one cares more for their patients than Cameron.”

  He flashed a glare my way.

  “He even visits his patient’s at home,” I said. “And if they can’t afford him, he doesn’t charge them. Surely that makes him a special doctor?”

  Aunt Rose beamed at me. “Why Cameron, she’s lovely—”

  “You go to their homes?” said Victoria.

  “Let’s check on dessert.” Cameron grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. “Rumor has it that chef has gone all out because you’re in town, Mom. Mia and I volunteer to be the official tasters.”

  “Can I come?” asked Willow.

  “No,” said Cameron, firmly leading me out.

  We headed off across the foyer, my heels echoing around us.

  “I wanted them to know what an amazing doctor you are,” I said, trotting alongside him.

  “Mia, I’ve handled my family and their lack of support for my career for a lifetime. I really don’t need any help.”

  “Your dad seemed to understand.”

  “That wasn’t understanding, Mia. That was the wisdom of leaving it alone until they’ve broken me down and I have no choice but to relent and become CEO of Cole Tea.”

  The kitchen was all dark wood and stainless steel. Pots and pans and other cooking implements were stacked next to the dishwasher. A short, young man with blond spiked hair wearing a chef’s outfit was busy putting the final touches to a tray of desserts. He stood straight and faced Cameron.

  Cameron threw a wave his way. “Mia, I don’t expect you to understand.”

  “Tea versus saving lives,” I said. “I understand the situation just fine.”

  “Freddie, dinner was extraordinary,” said Cameron. “I can’t thank you enough.”

  “Always a pleasure, Sir,” said Freddie.

  “My entire family is raving about the food. You have a gift.”

  “How was the Kobe?” asked Freddie.

  “Cooked to perfection,” he said. “I love that wine you selected to go with it. “The Valpolicella was pleasingly complete.”

  “I’m happy to hear that,” said Freddie, pointing to the desserts. “The best is yet to come.”

  “So it seems,” said Cameron. “Again you’ve spoiled us. Do give my regards to Sissy.”

  “It will be my pleasure, Dr. Cole.”

  “Would you mind giving Ms. Lauren and I a few minutes?” Cameron beamed at him and watched him go. Then Cameron’s jovial demeanor evaporated. He leaned against the table, his thoughts seemingly elsewhere.

  “Maybe your family will come round?” I said, breaking the silence.

  “I wish.”

  “You have an older brother?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, isn’t he meant to take over the family business?”

  “Harry is a little unconventional.”

  “In what way?”

  “He’s…complicated.”

  “Surely they should be giving him a hard time and not you?” I said.

  “What the fuck!”

  “What?”

  “I can’t believe I am having this conversation with you. We’ve both seem to have forgotten why we are here. There will be no derailing of your training no matter how much you use the devious nature of your gender to manipulate me.”

  “That’s unfair. I was trying to help.”

  “If this is you helping, please cease immediately.”

  “You’re the one who forced me into this dinner party. I’m the victim here.”

  He burst out laughing. “You’re right of course. Dining with my family may be classed as one of my crueler punishments.”

  “I happen to really like your family.”

  He ran his hand through his hair. “It doesn’t exactly help that they find you adorable.”

  “That’s a good thing, right?”

  “Yes and no. Well, we came here to sample dessert.”

  “I thought you just wanted me out of the room?”

  “What made you think that?” He rolled his eyes. “Well we’re here now.”

  There, upon two silver platters, was a selection of chocolate brownies, individual pots of cream brulee, and several slices of chocolate gateaux.

  Feeling mischievous, I leaned over and dipped my finger into one of the pots of crème brulee, breaking through the sugary crust and bringing the yellowy crème to my mouth. “Mmmm. Delicious. I want this one.”

  Cameron neared me, that fieriness all too familiar. “Actually, I’ve already laid claim to that one.”

  “Really?”

  Cameron eased my dress off my shoulder and pulled it down farther, exposing my breasts. He reached over and dipped a finger into the same pot of brulee and scooped up a little, bringing it over to my nipple. He smoothed it over my areola, causing me to throw my head back. His mouth met my nipple and he sucked, lapping at the cream and sending shockwaves of bliss into me and downward, his teeth grazing.

  “That’s misuse of the chef’s hard work,” I said.

  “That isn’t,” said Cameron. “But this is.”

  I arched a brow.

  “Open your legs.” He scooped a larger portion onto his finger. “Lift your dress.”

  Mesmerized, I obeyed, hiking my dress up and around my waist, realizing that these lack of panties had been part of Cameron’s plan all along.

  His grin matched mine.

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Never dare me, Mia.”

  Delicately, he brought his brulee covered fingertip towards my clit and rubbed it over the small nub. I gasped in pleasure. My thighs shuddered at his touch.

  He flashed me a devilish grin.

  And lowered himself to his knees, bringing his head between my thighs, his tongue licking at my pussy, fast and unforgiving. My fingers grabbed his dark locks, holding him there against me as I climbed ever higher, stunned by his tenacity.

  Trembling, I could hold myself upright no more and let go of him and lowered myself all the way back onto the table until I was staring up at the ceiling. My thighs wrapped around his shoulders. Arching my back, my hair spilling around me, I tossed my head from side to side, panting for him and writhing.

  His tongue sent me hurtling into outer space and I gasped for air, my climax owning my breathing like he owned my clit. His masterful thrumming brought wave after way of ecstasy.

  With expert flicks, he brought me down slowly, and I let out a long sigh of satisfaction, all tension gone.

  Cameron rose to his feet and tugged down my dress. His face came back into focus. I pushed myself up onto my elbows.

  “Your responsiveness pleases me,” he said.

  I sat up and dangled my legs over the edge. “Does this mean I’m forgiven for my faux pas?”

  “There are just so many to choose from.”

  “I know how to make up for it.” I reached for the pot of brulee and lifted it off the tray and set it on the end of the table.

  I slid off and lowered myself before him, kneeling at his feet.

  “Well this should be interesting,” he said.

  Reaching up, I unzipped his pants, easing him out in awe of his raw beauty, that hefty erection rising out of dark curls.

  Breaking away from his glorious display of manhood, and still surprised that it ever fit inside me, I threw him a seductive glance and turned slightly, reaching up and easing a dollop of cream brulee onto my fingertip. Turning to face him once more, I spread the dessert around that dark purple head, taking my time to delicately lavish it.

  “I see forgiveness in your future, Ms. Lauren,”
he said through clenched teeth.

  A heady rush filled me when I caused him to instantly harden.

  “Balls first,” he said.

  They twitched in my mouth as I suckled and licked, worshiping his testicles. Beneath my touch, I felt the muscles of his thighs flex. My fingers found their way, wrapping around the base of his cock, sliding up and down leisurely. I could wait no longer to have him in my mouth. The taste of him mixed with the crème was too delicious. His maleness mixed with the sweet sugared vanilla made me swoon. Taking him all the way in, deeper still, I set a rapid pace, needing to hear his sighs of approval.

  His hands fell to my hair, his fingers curling and tugging at my locks. Their pull was just about unbearable, his desire to control the rhythm undeniable.

  “Mmmm, delicious,” I said.

  He shoved me back to his cock. “Don’t fucking stop, Mia.” He yanked at my hair, pulling at my scalp, forcing me faster.

  The feel of him, the taste of him, so clean, so pure, the knowledge that it was me pushing the Cameron Cole to breaking point was exhilarating. Gazing up at his serene face, his eyes closed as he moaned with pleasure.

  “Flick your tongue beneath the head,” he said.

  Making a circular motion, I obeyed.

  “That’s right,” he sounded husky. “Very good.”

  I gripped firmer, working him harder, concentrating on nothing but pleasing him, taking him all the way into my throat and farther still.

  His hips pumped. “Mia, I’m close.”

  My own longing rose with each flick of my tongue, each downward twisting thrust. My hand worked in unison with my tongue as I filled my mouth with him, my lips pouty and tight. My sex responded, clenching and spasming in this ecstasy brought on by his.

  Cameron went rigid. His warmth entered my mouth and I swallowed all of him, grateful to have this privilege of his seed flowing into me. Needing him to know this, I moaned longingly for him.

  He remained still, with his left hand cupped over his eyes. I sat at his feet, staring up at him, needing to know I had pleased him.