Page 30 of Enthrall Climax

Cameron reached his desk and turned to face me. Leaning back against it, he stared at me with appreciation. “Very good, Ms. Lauren.”

“Thank you for my punishment, sir.”

“Did you find it pleasing that it was delivered by Mr. Gardner’s hand?”

“If it pleases you, sir.”

“I’m asking you.”

What was I to say? Should I share that having such an interaction with Shay had aroused me? Didn’t this mean I was betraying our trust? It was best to remain silent.

“Play with your clit.”

My eyelids closed as his words tore up my sanity, my groan revealing what his order meant—that I was at last allowed to reach down, like I was doing now, and sweep my fingertip over that sensitive swell, teasing it. A jolt of pleasure shuddered through me.

“Slower.”

I obeyed as the promise of relief neared.

“Hands behind your back, Ms. Lauren.”

Dragging my hand away, I assumed my pose and waited through the excruciating seconds as the ache in my core intensified. I was certain he’d see me throbbing down there.

He folded his arms across his chest and continued to study me. My nipples beaded and the ache below was like a constant pulse of need. I licked my lips to ease their dryness.

On my left was the glass-fronted liquor cabinet he kept his expensive selection of booze in, and to my right was the luxury leather furniture I’d just sat in. Behind his desk were neatly lined books on an impressive mahogany bookcase. Yes, this ordeal was easier if I didn’t look at him.

“Circle your clit again,” he demanded.

With the tip of my finger, I did as he commanded—though this time my pace was leisurely; I resisted letting these sensations own my pussy. But it became overwhelming, and I had to cup my breasts to ease the pang in my nipples.

With a nod from my master, I again assumed the pose with my hands clutched behind my back; the sting of my fingernails in my palms helped ease the desire I was feeling.

He was right there, standing tall and stunningly handsome, his hands shoved into his pockets in a casual but threatening pose, as though he were the ruler of the air itself.

It became too much. “Mercy, sir.”

“Come here.”

I stepped free of my skirt that had pooled at my feet and hurried over, leaning against his firm chest and breathing in his cologne. His heady scent of power and control demanded my surrender.

With my body crushed to his, Cameron reached around my back and grasped the chain at my lower spine. He began a rhythmic pulling of the links that were attached to either side of my labia, stretching them well enough to tug at my clit in measured pulses. Tipping my chin up, my lips opening wide, I begged him with my eyes to kiss me.

His mouth lingered dangerously close to mine, his hot breath teasing me as he leaned closer—but not close enough. I was on my tiptoes now trying to meet his lips and each time he eased his mouth away in denial. This was the cruelest punishment of all, and I mewled in frustration, rocking slightly in response to that consistent tugging.

“Don’t come,” he said calmly. “Don’t come.”

I was whimpering now as he held me on a precipice, my clit so sensitive that one word from him would make me fall.

“Have I made myself clear, Ms. Lauren?”

“Yes, sir.”

He let go of the chain and pulled away. “Get dressed.”

Shaken and unsated, I went over and scooped my skirt off the floor, pulled it on, and refastened the hook at the back. This felt like a punishment so fierce that I’d never find my way back from it.

With the chains tugging me and wetness dampening my thighs, I turned to face the door.