Enthrall Her

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Enthrall Her Page 22

by Vanessa Fewings


  “Beautiful submissive,” he said firmly. “Who do you belong to?”

  “You, Sir.” My head crashed back onto the pillow.

  “And your clit. Who does it belong to?”

  “You, Sir.”

  He gave a nod of approval and pulled me into a hug, wrapping his strong arms around me, and I collapsed against him, spent.

  Falling asleep felt so easy.

  CHAPTER 24

  WIPING THE SLEEPINESS from my eyes, I stared out of the bedroom window and looked down into the sweeping, well-tended garden of Chrysalis.

  That was Cameron down there, wearing goggles while swimming laps in the enormous pool, his strong shoulders and arms pulling him through the water like an Olympian. He glided with ease, showing remarkable breath control during what looked like a grueling breaststroke.

  I’d awoken this morning to find him gone. True to his word, we’d slept apart. He was probably right about keeping our distance at night. I was already infatuated with him as it was. Spending twenty-four hours with each other would send me over the edge.

  I was happy to be free of that dungeon. I marveled that Cameron and Ethan had gone to all that trouble for me. They’d spent time, their precious time and expertise, to decipher the documents and discover what had really happened. Had I never met Cameron, I’d have probably spent the rest of my life believing I’d injected myself that day. I wasn’t ready to leave him. Couldn’t cope with the thought of separating from him just yet. I needed more time.

  Needed him.

  Signing my contract would be my way of proving that I was ready to stay here. Sitting in the corner lounge chair with the paperwork resting on my lap, my mind drifted off to thoughts of Cameron. I forced myself to bring my concentration back to the six pages of signing my life away.

  A knock at the door startled me and I leaped to my feet.

  It opened and I brought my hands up to cover myself. This Babydoll wasn’t sufficient enough.

  I recognized Dominic immediately. He was Cameron’s right hand man, or so I assumed. The forty something short, bald man who wielded his authority with a sinister air. He had a handsome face but a very slight feminine air.

  “Welcome, Mia,” he said sincerely.

  His kindness threw me. “Hello Dominic.” I swallowed hard. “May I call you Dominic?”

  “You may. How did you sleep?”

  “Really well.” My cheeks flushed with what had been the catalyst for a good night’s sleep.

  Facing Cameron after each intimate event never got any easier. It was like my reset button returned to zero each time he showcased one his erotic tricks.

  “Your clothes for the day have been laid out on the central isle in the wardrobe,” said Dominic. “Meet me downstairs in the dining room.”

  “I don’t know where that is.”

  He raised a brow. “I’ll return for you in half an hour. That should give you enough time.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Bring your contract.”

  With him gone, I made my way over to the walk-in wardrobe, wondering how much of Mr. Scary I’d be seeing while I was here.

  My jaw dropped.

  Cameron must have known all along I was going to stay. The vast wardrobe was filled with clothes of every assortment and every color, and as I ran my hand along the hangers they were all my size. My inner shoe goddess, who’d evidently lain dormant until now, screamed herself awake when she saw the shoes. There was enough of a collection here to send a Beverly Hills housewife apoplectic.

  Oh great.

  Despite there being endless outfits to choose from, I’d been allocated a sweetheart pink corset, high-top stockings, and panties. I’d not given any thought to what would be my day to day uniform. Maybe I could request an addendum in my contract? Something about being allowed to wear fucking clothes.

  After taking a long, cleansing shower in the cream tiled bathroom, I dressed in what I hoped my master had chosen for me. If there’d been a mistake and this was meant as evening wear, I’d be laughed at. The heels were comfortable, but then again they were Jimmy Choo shoes. I grabbed my contract.

  Dominic was waiting for me outside.

  “How does this look?” I gestured to my clothes, or lack of them.

  “Just dandy.” He turned on his heels and headed off.

  His nod of approval was only slightly reassuring. Still, I was grateful he kept his eyes forward and didn’t letch. We made our way down the sweeping staircase and I gripped the handrail, careful not to trip. I couldn’t wait to be reunited with Cameron and looked around the foyer, hoping he’d appear any second and throw me one of his reassuring smiles.

  My heels clipped along the marble flooring, echoing, emphasizing the enormity of the place. The red-headed, Chanel wearing receptionist barely looked up as we passed her, and it made me wonder if it was out of politeness or training.

  “All staff are submissives in training,” said Dominic, answering my rambling thoughts. “It keeps them focused in-between sessions.” He gestured we were going left. “Have you been given a tour yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  I’ve kind of been locked in the dungeon for a few days, as you well know.

  The dining room was as expected. It contained a long carved table with ten or so chairs on either side. All very formal. The floor to ceiling window overlooked the garden. Having not gone outside for days, I hoped I’d be allowed into the garden today. How easy it was to take freedom for granted. I crooked my neck to see the pool was now empty. I couldn’t wait to have a dip in there myself.

  Think of this like a holiday chalet, I mused, one where a really hot guy wants to spend all his downtime playing with you.

  Don’t think about that now. And certainly don’t think about Cameron’s penchant for pain.

  A shiver ran up my spine.

  Dominic fiddled with a panel on the wall. He raised the temperature, taking pity on me no less. Scarlet had once told me that submissives were pampered by their masters, especially when they were well behaved. I made a mental note to try to be good. Though last night’s small rebellion of visiting Cameron’s room had brought the most exquisite punishment, proving that being naughty had its benefits sometimes.

  “I took the liberty of ordering you an omelet,” said Dominic, shaking me from my thoughts.

  “Thank you.” I sat where he pointed and placed my contract to my left.

  That gut wrenching rock that had been lodged in my chest all my life was gone. The feeling I’d accepted as normal. This dreadful ache had disappeared. My shoulders relaxed, my body easing into this new state of peace.

  Dominic dragged a chair up close to me and sat.

  A young waitress entered, quiet and respectful. From the short length of her hem and her demeanor, she too was a submissive. I wondered if they’d be time to make friends with her.

  “Thank you, Alana,” said Dominic.

  She laid before me a plate with a perfect looking omelet and buttered toast. Taking her time, careful not to spill the tea, she rested a cup to the left of the table setting and next to that a glass of orange juice. She gave Dominic a cup of tea too.

  If she found my outfit odd she didn’t show it, and she certainly didn’t react to Dominic’s wave of dismissal. She left.

  “As Chrysalis’s attorney,” began Dominic.

  “You’re an attorney!”

  “Yes, I oversee the official organization of Chrysalis. I ensure all who enter here prove they are willing participants. Hence your contract.” He reached into his jacket pocket and handed me a pen.

  “Can I be sued if I don’t abide by it?”

  He looked annoyed. “Do you intend not to?”

  “I want to add in there about being allowed to wear clothes. Not just underwear.”

  “Turn to page three.”

  Of course I knew what was on page three. Something about my master deciding on what I ate, how I dressed, and how I spent my days. Total power exchange.

 
“Problem?” said Dominic.

  “I’d like to talk to Cameron about it.”

  “Firstly, you will address your master as Sir, and secondly—” he paused, his gaze locked on the door.

  “Is my submissive causing trouble already?” said Cameron.

  I braved to look back toward the doorway and watched Cameron walk in casually. He’d dressed in a black suit and tie, his morning swim having given him the edge of unnerving alertness, even more than usual. That side parting in his hair producing a refined and formal air.

  I gestured to my corset.

  “You may speak,” said Cameron, tucking his hands into his pockets.

  Resisting the urge to glare at Dominic, I said, “This outfit—”

  “You’re quite right, Mia,” said Cameron, pulling up a chair beside me.

  “Really?” I said.

  “A black corset next time.” He turned to Dominic. “I fucking hate pink.”

  “Thought you loved pink?” said Dominic.

  “No. You love pink,” said Cameron.

  “I thought she looked pretty,” said Dominic. “For a girl.”

  Cameron frowned. “She looks like a doll.”

  I gave a wave. “I am here.” At their glare, I bit into my toast.

  “Maybe she’s missing a bow?” quipped Dominic.

  “It’s too early for fool-fuckery,” said Cameron.

  “Speak for yourself,” said Dominic. “I’ve been up for hours. Working.”

  “You are so fired.”

  “Thank God for that.” Dominic rolled his eyes. “Put me out of my misery, why don’t you.”

  My gaze bounced from one to the other, caught up in their drama.

  “Go check on the ponies,” said Cameron.

  “That’s where I’m headed now.”

  “Ponies?” It came out before I could stop it, and somewhere in the far reaches of my addled brain I remembered that newscaster, Andrew Harvey, who I’d met at Richard’s party, and his pony play fetish. “Can I come see them?” I threw in, trying to save my embarrassment, though in no way wanting to see them.

  “Later,” said Cameron, clearly amused.

  I reached for a slice of toast to lessen my angst and it took all my strength to take dainty bites and not shove it into my mouth.

  Cameron stared down at the table. “What is that?”

  “Our contract,” I said in-between another bite.

  “It’s not ripped into a hundred pieces,” he said dryly. “I didn’t recognize it.”

  I placed my toast down and licked my fingers. Picking up Dominic’s pen, I flipped to the last page of the contract and swept my signature across from where Cameron had earlier signed it. “There you go.” I threw the pen back towards Dominic.

  Dominic picked up his pen like I’d contaminated it and slid it back into his breast pocket. Cameron gestured for the contract and I handed it over to him.

  He flipped through the pages. “You didn’t cross anything out. Impressive.”

  “I was allowed to?” I wondered if I could do it now. “I meant what I said about the you know what.”

  “You’re in good hands.” Dominic gave a smile and it looked like he was trying extra hard to hold it.

  “How’s breakfast?” said Cameron.

  “Delicious.”

  “You haven’t touched your omelet?” he said.

  I sighed. “Still working my way round to it.”

  “Eat,” he said firmly.

  I sat in silence, taking my time to eat my omelet while eavesdropping on their conversation. I wondered how many times Cameron fired Dominic as a form of entertainment. Guests were arriving tonight apparently, and they went over the details of who was on the list and which rooms were best for whom.

  Dominic seemed satisfied the contract was signed and took it from Cameron. He walked out with my written agreement and I seriously considered running after him and asking for one more look.

  You’re doing this for Richard, I reassured myself.

  I shuffled in my chair, questioning my motives, my muse hinting that being around Cameron was mesmerizing and the idea of having to leave him eventually filled me with dread. A wave of guilt washed over me.

  I willed my feistiness to stay in its box.

  Cameron rested back in his chair. “Mia, while I’m at work you will oversee my office. Dominic will go over all the admin.”

  That made me feel better. I really did need a purpose, and filling my day with taking care of Cameron’s office would be interesting.

  “Shall we walk?” he said.

  I took a last swig of orange juice and headed out with him. We made our way westward towards the Harrington Suite, and onward until we reached the end of the hall. Cameron opened the door for me and I went on ahead.

  We’d stepped into a library with floor to ceiling mahogany shelves strewn with every conceivable type of book. From volumes that went on forever to stacks of hardback novels at the far end. A deep burgundy leather sofa and several matching armchairs positioned on a large rug rounded out the gentleman’s club theme. The table at the back with its throne-like chairs looked perfect for meetings.

  “Very nice,” I said.

  Being alone with Cameron was both nerve-racking and exhilarating.

  There was a marble fireplace and a fire burned in the hearth and it filled the room with the scent of pine. I scurried over to it and held up my hands to warm them, grinning back at Cameron.

  He joined me by the fire, and with one hand casually resting on the mantle and the other tucked in his pocket, he regarded me intently.

  “Have I done something wrong already?” I said.

  “I’m sure we can find something.”

  I blushed. “Do you have to go to work?”

  “Yes, but I’ll be back later. Dominic will provide a tour of the house. While I am away, he holds all authority.” Cameron cocked his head. “You’re quite safe with him. You’re my prize possession and he’ll protect you in that regard.”

  “He’s gay?”

  “He most certainly is.”

  For some reason that cheered me up, though Cameron’s prized possession comment brought mixed emotions.

  “I found those clothes in my wardrobe,” I said.

  Cameron shrugged it off. “It was imperative the decision to remain here came from you. You are here for you, right, Mia?”

  I frowned at him. “Of course. Why?”

  He shook it off with a wave of his hand, his stare not leaving me.

  “Am I allowed outside?” I said.

  “You’re free to wander the grounds.”

  “Am I allowed to swim?”

  “If you like. I’ll see you have everything you need. However, I have one stipulation.”

  A wave of uncertainty swept over me as my brain tried to cope with the threat of another challenge.

  “During my time away from Chrysalis, you will undergo an intensive education. Tutors will be brought in and you’ll study English, French, math, foreign affairs, geography, and etiquette. All lessons will take place in here.” He swept his hands wide. “No one will disturb you. Subs are forbidden from entering. Other than you of course.”

  I was still hanging on the threat of math. I fricken hated math. “Why?”

  “Because it will please me.”

  “Will I be allowed to wear clothes?”

  “Of course. Your tutors will know nothing of your position.” He gave a nod. “You will not impart any personal information to them. Merely attend their class.”

  “I don’t understand why any of this is necessary?”

  “While in Charlotte,” he said, “Ethan had the privilege of reviewing your education.”

  I looked up at him coyly and full of embarrassment.

  Ethan had no right. Wasn’t that private? Meant to be sealed and not revealed to anyone? Or, more likely, disposed of when you left school?

  “These same classes will continue after you leave here,” he said.

&nbs
p; My lips trembled with doubt. “You don’t think I’m good enough?”

  “Ridiculous,” he said. “This is about a second chance.”

  “Second chance?”

  “I believe we can get you into the university of your choice.” He stepped closer and took my hand. “I have a friend at Berkley—”

  “I’m not sure. It’s too late for all of that.”

  “Mia, did you really think that all we’d be doing is fucking?”

  “Kind of.”

  He beamed at me. “No, my darling, that would be doing you a disservice.”

  “Maybe we can drop the math?”

  “No. We can’t. Apparently you excelled in French,” he said. “And as I intend to have you accompany me to Paris, you’ll be required to speak fluent French.”

  Paris?

  He lifted a loose strand of hair out of my face. “You don’t have to choose fashion. It was merely a thought. I saw your drawings and wrongly assumed perhaps?”

  That’s right. I’d stupidly left out my sketches that time he’d visited my apartment.

  “And later,” he added, “I’ll arrange an intern position with the designer of your choice.”

  “What if they don’t want me?”

  “Why wouldn’t they want you?” he said. “The recommendation would come from me.”

  “Do you always get what you want?”

  “Always.”

  “You have that kind of power?”

  “Without question.”

  “Even the New York fashion houses?”

  “Worldwide. I prefer to call it influence. I want you to be happy. I’d like to see you excited about your future.”

  He really needed his head examined. That kind of future belonged to the privileged, the chosen few.

  “Everything will be taken care of,” he said, as though reading my doubt. “The entire course would be care of a scholarship. Consider it a gift.”

  Feeling my life spiraling out of control, I said, “Please don’t make me do lessons. It’ll ruin everything.”

  “In what way?”

  “Everyone will laugh at me.”

  “No one will know. Only you, me, and Dominic.”

  “What if Dominic lets it slip?”

  “He’s the most trusted and loyal staff member I have. He’s worked for me for over a decade. When it comes to secrets, he’s the gatekeeper.”

 

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