Enthrall Him (Book 3) (Enthrall Sessions) by Vanessa Fewings

Author:Vanessa Fewings [Fewings, Vanessa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: VMK
Published: 2014-11-23T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 22

VIEWING MY LOW cut, red chiffon dress in the mirror, I congratulated myself on handling this so well.

I really was flourishing as a submissive. Everything I’d ever dreamed of was coming true. This was really happening. If I could just nudge this nagging voice of resistance back in its box. Let go.

Completely hand myself over.

Fluffing my spiraling blonde curls, I used the full length mirror to adjust my cleavage, tugging my lace bra and admiring the way this dress swept over my curves and showed off my waist.

Cameron liked to put his hands around my waist, I mused, and it made me feel so feminine, so wanted, so beautiful.

“ You’re the sacred feminine ,” he’d wooed me.

Reassuring me time and time again this was what a woman represented to her dominant.

Don’t think of him.

I admired these strappy shoes complementing my outfit.

Richard would soon be out of the shower. Having changed my clothes for the third time, I now felt ready for this evening.

I’d found this exquisite dress in my wardrobe…

It’ll be okay.

You’ll be okay.

And so will Cameron. He had a career, those high society clubs, that privileged life to sustain him, and he also had all those beautiful subs waiting for his return.

He was right about Richard. He’d been through too much heartache for any man to bear—his father’s betrayal and the cruelty that followed, his girlfriend’s suicide, and him subsequently closing down his ability to feel, to love.

I’d been brought in to save the day.

Not destroy it further.

I hoped Richard might start to relax and enjoy being here. Soon, his fears would dissolve and his moodiness would lift.

He was my sweet, loveable Richard.

I was glad Cameron was still here to ease the transition.

Voices carried from downstairs.

Stephen, Shay, and Cameron sounded like they were already sparring with their intellectual banter. No doubt there would be plenty more stories from the enigmatic Dr. Finley. He was like the favorite uncle I’d never had, and if my prediction was right, very gay too.

And so fricken loveable.

Beneath this dress, I wore delicate stockings and a black lacey garter belt and panties. I decided not to wear shoes, preferring to go barefoot.

I’d brought up a glass of champagne for Richard, as well as a single chocolate covered strawberry on a china plate.

In the mirror’s reflection, I caught Richard staring at me from the bathroom doorway. I turned to face him, taking in that low hung towel wrapped around his waist, that tanned muscled torso rippling as he used another towel to dry his hair.

He oozed sun kissed sports god.

I wondered if he’d visited any of his old haunts while left alone in L.A., done any of those usual death defying sports he’d once been addicted too. That abrasion on his left arm was a hint he’d faced off with a rock.

“Wow, Mia,” he said. “I love that on you.” He ambled over and tipped my chin up and kissed me.

His cologne sparked my senses and brought a familiar rush.

“I found it in my wardrobe,” I said.

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