Enthrall Him (Enthrall Sessions Book 3) (12 page)

“Let’s go there.” I flung my hands up.

He laughed. “You haven’t heard the second choice.”

“What’s the second choice?”

“Harrods,” he said. “We can shop for a while and then have tea there.”

“Let’s go there,” I said, giggling.

“Instead of the Goring?”

“Yes, instead of the Goring. Harrods.”

“Or.”

I was in a giggling fit and he was shaking his head, amused.

“We can go to the Ritz.” He raised his hand. “Let me guess. You want to go to the Ritz?”

“Can we go to all three?”

“Well we could, but then we wouldn’t have time to go to a very special place I’ve been planning for you later this afternoon.”

“For me?”

“Yes, I know you’ll love it, but it’s a surprise.”

“Where would you like to go?” I said.

“You choose.”

“Which one is your favorite?”

“They all offer something different.”

“I can’t decide.”
“We need to tell our driver where to take us.”

“Harrods,” I said. “Let’s go to Harrods.”

Cameron told me this was an excellent choice and instructed the driver to take us there.

Our taxi nudged through the city traffic.

The doorman welcomed us in.

Even after having visited some of the most high end stores in America, like my favorite, Bloomingdales, I was still not prepared for how Harrods wooed me. With its Egyptian styled lobby, to its wide assortment of luxury items, this place had everything, and its floors went on forever.

Cameron led me through the crowd of shoppers and we soon found a well needed space to take everything in and steal a hug. We went from floor to floor exploring, and I had to stop mentioning how much I liked this or that as Cameron kept offering to buy it for me. Which was ridiculous, because I’d even pointed to an enormous Buddha I knew Richard would love.

“Well get it for him,” said Cameron warmly.

I’d managed to dissuade him, forcing Cameron to shove his wallet back in his pocket.

We ended up in Harrods’s Caffe Florian, tucked away at a corner table with a pristine white cloth and silver cutlery.  

I followed Cameron’s lead and placed my napkin on my lap. In the corner, a pianist elegantly struck the keys, the haunting notes stirring melancholy.

“Claude Debassy,” Cameron told me.

The waitress introduced herself as Sarah, and poured freshly brewed tea from a sliver pot into two delicate china cups. A slice of chocolate cake was placed between us. Cameron arched a mischievous brow and reach for his fork and I reached for mine.

“Let the best man win,” he said.

Between sips of tea, we took bites of mouthwatering cake. The sponge was moist and tasted nutty; the icing enhanced the sweetness.

Cameron used his fork to tackle mine and I tackled back, scooping up another mouthful.

I held the last piece out to him. “Here you are.”

He waved it off and gestured for me to finish it.

My eyes lit up as I savored the last crumbs melting on my tongue, and I beamed Cameron’s way.

“I don’t recall ever seeing you quite this happy,” he joked.

I sat back, lulled by all this sugar.

Cameron peered at the plate. “The case of the missing chocolate cake.” His gaze met mine. “Aha. Evidence.” He leaned over and dabbed my mouth with his napkin, and his touch sent tingles into my cheek.

I beamed at him.

He reached across the table and held my hand, making small circles with his fingertips on my arm, seemingly lost in thought.

His gaze rose to watch the piano player.

The man was dressed smartly in a tux and struck the keys beautifully.

“The thing about artists,” said Cameron, “whether it’s writers, or painters, or singers, or musicians, is that when they’re in the zone they leave the room.”

“Really?” I said.

“Picasso stated he left his body behind when he entered the room to paint. It always surprises me how so many artists we know today as geniuses died in poverty or under tragic circumstances. As though the world wasn’t ready for them.”

“Like Rembrandt,” I said, remembering his self-portrait.

“Yes.” Cameron gestured towards the piano player. “I wonder if anyone else considers the hours he spent mastering those keys.”

I looked around at the other diners enjoying their tea. “I’m sure they do. Do you play an instrument?”

He gave a shrug. “Piano, when I was younger.”

“Not now?”

“No.”

“That’s a hard instrument to learn.”

He gave a shrug.

“There so much to you, Cameron. I love discovering more about you.”

His eyes held mine and it was easy to disappear inside that warm gaze, that wonderful promise of learning more.

He gave a look of confusion. “I imagine you miss Richard?”  

“A little.”

“Me too. Until I met you, he was the only other person capable of bringing out my playful side. You’re like a female Richard.”

“I like the sound of that.”

He gave a nod indicating he did too. “He’s an extraordinary man. Thank you for making him so happy.”

“He makes me happy. Even if he wasn’t able to reach me like you did.”

“I understand Richard’s reservations,” he said. “It’s a reflection on how much he cares about you.”

“Enthrall feels like one big family. I feel so at home there.”

“We can’t imagine the place without you. That offer I made to support a career in fashion still stands.”

“That means the world to me. I really am giving it serious thought.”

“Is there something on your mind?”

“Our time at Chrysalis was spectacular.”

“I agree.”

“How’s Richard going to react…”

Cameron twisted his mouth. “You don’t know, do you?”

My gaze shot from the piano player to Cameron.

“You and me together is one of Richard kinks.” He raised his hand in a warning. “One I took advantage of, however.”

“Kink?”

“I’ll tell him not to share you,” he said. “You’re far from ready. That’s why I resisted the demonstration of a ménage a trois in the Harrington Suite.”

“Richard gets off on knowing we’re having sex?” I whispered.

“Usually he’s watching.”

Richard and I had never discussed this, and I hoped it wasn’t one of his hard limits.

Cameron brushed a stray hair out of my face and tucked it behind an ear. “So you don’t have to worry.”

Yeah, thanks for that. No worry here. Nope. All good. Discovering your boyfriend has the mother of all kinks is just a normal occurrence, folks. Nothing to see here. Just move along, please.

“Mia?”

“Yes.”

“You okay?”

I let out a sigh. “Richard looked riled up when he came to your home in Beverly Hills to get me?”

“He calmed down.”

“It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Well, he trusts me. Completely.” Cameron glanced at his watch. “I’ve kept him updated on your training. He’s excited with your progress. He’s grateful. My job is to keep you safe.”

“You’re both lucky I’m not the crazy girl type,” I said. “If I was you’d have unleashed hell on yourselves.”

“I profiled you. Your affection towards me is endearing.”

“Cameron, I’ll always—”

“Let’s go over what’s expected as we proceed toward your return.”

I swallowed hard at his transition.

With a glance around, I confirmed our conversation wouldn’t be overheard.

Cameron spoke firmly, as though making a presentation in a boardroom, explaining intricately the expectations of a true master and submissive relationship.

The kind Richard wanted.

Demanded.

I must follow every order willingly and without hesitation, always available for sex and, more controversial still, should Richard and I ever be out in public I must always show respect and never contradict him.

I slid my fork over the dessert plate and scraped up what was left of the sauce. I lifted it to my mouth and licked it off, trailing my tongue over chocolate covered prongs, my gaze locked on Cameron.

“It’s going to be a challenge for you, Mia.” His gaze settled on my lips. “Despite this, I believe it will help you control your smart mouth and teach you to listen more. There are benefits.”

“There are more benefits for my master if I’m subservient.”

“You’ll be spoiled beyond belief.”

“But must compromise my free speech.”

“It’s a lifestyle choice. One you’ve chosen.”

“I’ve so enjoyed today,” I said. “I must thank Dr. Finely for his suggestion that we should just go off and have some fun. Thank you, Cameron. ”

His stare lingered, as though chastising me for changing the subject. “You underestimate me.”

I looked at him questioningly.

“You also misunderstood Dr. Finely. He wants you to know just how far I’m willing to push you. Just how unsuited we are for each other. This time together is about easing our separation.”

“Sounds sinister.”

“You’re ill suited to sinister. I have alternative means of degradation.”

What did that mean?

He reached into his pocket and placed a small navy silk pouch into my palm. “Return to me with these in.”

Pulling the string open I peeked inside—

Venus balls.

Having not known what these were upon my initial hiring at Enthrall, they’d gotten me fired. I was reassured these were not the same ones gifted to me by Monsieur Trouville back at Enthrall. These were intricately gold embossed spheres.

My focus returned to Cameron’s burning stare.

“This is a fine example of the kind of hesitation a master will not tolerate,” he said sternly.

Obeying, I rose from my chair and followed the signs for the powder room, clutching this small velvet pouch as a thrill shot up my spine.  

Discovering Richard took pleasure in sharing me left an unexplored doubt. It did however lift my guilt for all the amazing sex I’d had with Cameron. I pushed those thoughts aside, resigning to the fact they’d have to be returned to later.

Inside the luxury cubicle, I mused these beautiful restrooms were only rivaled by the ones back at Chrysalis. I pulled down my panties and inserted those delicate balls. A rush of pleasure engulfed my sex as my fingers nudged them up farther inside. My thumb circled my clit to tease.

Leaning up against the bathroom stall door, I stole a few seconds to savor the ripples of pleasure between my thighs. A naughty sub flicking her clit in rebellion.

Which didn’t exactly help and only made my need more intense.

After washing my hands and catching my flushed cheeks in the mirror, seeing a hint of vixen in my expression, I returned to sit beside Cameron.

Exhilarated to be back in his favor.

“Thank you, sir,” I said breathlessly.

“You obeyed?”

“Yes.” A bite of my lip. A pout of pleasure.

Cameron gave a nod of approval. “We were discussing your training.”  

Half-distracted, I noticed our teacups were topped up. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”  

A buzzing inside brought blinding pleasure.

Pressing my fingertips to my lips, I tried to understand why my pussy was pulsating, deliciously quivering. These fricken balls were vibrating.

I shot Cameron a look.

His hand was inside his coat pocket.

The buzzing stopped.

“Are these remote?” I said huskily. “Are you controlling—”

They fired up again.

Spasms of pleasure snatched my next breath.

I scanned the room, self-conscious someone might notice, but the pulsing was so intense it made me freeze, slump forward slightly, and let out a deep sigh.  

“It’s an interesting fact that Freud believed a clitoral orgasm was infantile,” said Cameron casually, “and a vaginal orgasm represented maturity. Womanhood.”
 

“That’s interesting,” I managed. “Please, turn it off.”

“Sir,” he admonished.

“Sir.”

The buzz revved up another notch, the intensity causing me to blush wildly, to squirm, to lean back and clutch the table. The vibrations shot jolts of erotic spasms into my clit. Tingly, mind altering sensations reached my belly then rose up to my nipples, which were taut and wantonly pointing through my blouse.

“You were saying?” said Cameron.

“It’s too much.”

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