Enthrall Him (Enthrall Sessions Book 3) (35 page)

Even as merely a witness, I too was caught up, captured, my own sex thrumming with need.

Masked Mistress maneuvered her hand beneath Redhead’s chin then brought it toward Pixie’s sex and slipped two fingers inside her, so she could leisurely fuck her, complementing redhead’s tongue that strummed brilliantly above.

Moans rose, thighs trembled. Pixie’s jaw went slack and she pouted. Between those soaking wet thighs, her sex spasmed around pumping fingers for everyone to see…

Everyone to share.

Mercy was granted to Pixie so she could find her way.

Over her scream of pleasure came the order from her masked Mistress, “Venir Disque Dur.”

Pixie did as she was told and came hard.

CHAPTER
28

MISTRESS MASK’S EYES found me again.

Only then did I remember where I’d met that French Mistress before.

A rush of lightheadedness.

If Helete was here, so would Lance be.

Half aware of Pixie being guided off the bed and led away, I glanced back at the door we’d come in through. As though sensing I might bolt, the chain coming from my collar became taut as Summer pulled me towards her.

Pixie was looking back at her redhead and blonde friends, and they smiled at her until she was hurried away. Both their lips were shiny with glitter.

“I need to find Richard,” I whispered.

Summer gestured to the bed. “But what about your gift?”

“I won’t be able to enjoy it until I’ve asked my master’s permission,” I said. “He’s very strict.”

Helete patted the bed from me to climb on.

I wasn’t sure if she knew I knew it was her with that mask; it was impossible to read her face. Her subs vied for her attention and she petted them, as though biding her time for my compliance to join them. Pixie’s fate was now my own.  

“Mistress Summer,” I said. “I’ve been a very naughty sub.”

She arched a brow.

“I’m currently on an orgasm ban.” I gave a nod, as though I’d come to terms with my fate. “Only my master may break it.”

She frowned my way.

I bowed my head.

“Let’s find your master then,” she said.

Trying not to squeal with relief, I followed Summer out and dared not look back for fear of Helete refusing to let me go.

We strolled into a large lounge that reminded me of a gentleman’s club, with its dark antique furniture and leather sofas and chairs.

This place was like the secret chambers of Chrysalis, only more intense.

Men in tuxes held subs on leashes at their feet. The pretty girls knelt in subservience. Around and about, people were fucking. Crowds had gathered to watch.

To our right, a naked woman was lying on her back on a table and she was being taken really hard by a man wearing a tux. He didn’t seem to care about her pleasure and to prove it he slapped her face.

I was just about to step in and rescue her when her legs shot up on either side of his hips and she grasped him against her. She lifted off the table and pounded him right back; she was enjoying it rough.

A tux wearing spectator neared them for a closer look. He watched with the intensity of a voyeur on a mission. With his pants unzipped and his cock out, his hand leisurely pleasuring himself, his intent became obvious. The woman’s eyes widened with glee and she opened her mouth and took him all the way in. Her hips bucked against her other master. They set a perfect rhythm. Their ménage a trois drew more people.

The crowd blocked our view.  

My heart was racing, my mouth grew dry, and though turned on, I knew the danger.

Cameron had once caught me exploring Chrysalis and had yelled at me for walking around in merely a corset.

All I wore now was a skimpy half corset and my pussy was shimmering up a storm. A glitter magnet. My sex had a fricken X on it and I sensed if I stepped outside you’d catch me all the way from space.

I was my very own sex star.

And the other half of my star was out there somewhere, probably having forgotten his sub was new to all this over the top fuckery. This hardcore stuff Cameron had alluded to and Richard and once tried to keep me away from.

This was probably similar to the party shenanigans back at Chrysalis when things got swinging. With Cameron and Richard acting as the grand masters of play.

They were acclimated to this.

Unlike me.

I nudged up to Mistress Summer for protection, hoping she’d be able to scare off any of these alpha males who were zeroing in on me.

One of them headed fast in our direction.

I was whisked away on the end of a chain by Summer.

Under the archway and into another dimmed room, where more sexual exploits unfolded. Five women were going at it with each other on a central table, all arms and legs. Oral sex for some. One of them wore a strap-on and ground her female partner from behind, and in front of her lover, a woman was having her pussy licked.

Fifty or so men stood round--all of them masked, all of them wearing tuxes.

A low, sinking feeling that we weren’t here because of Cameron filled me. He’d always protected me from these kinds of soirees. He knew I wasn’t ready.

We were surrounded by visions of intimacy.

We made our way out into the night.

A sea of men in tuxes all wore masks. A wave of panic overcame me. I was never going to find Richard amongst all these suited clones. I scanned the scene of men gathered here and there, all of them engrossed in conversation.

Scantily clad women carried drinks on trays.

They, like me, would be grateful for all these patio heaters out here.

Down beyond the garden was an enormous lake and it was still like glass, and beyond that an immense shadowy woodland. On the other side of the lake stood twenty or so men in robes, all of them wearing masks, all of them performing some kind of arcane ceremony before a tall statue of a naked Venus. I recognized the sculpture from one of the paintings I’d seen at the Tate. A fire had been set at her feet.

Although I was too far away to hear what they were saying, I knew they were worshiping that statue.

“Hello, Mia,” said a crisp British accent. “How did you find my collection?”

The tall man was wearing a plague doctor’s mask. His eyes were a stunning green, and his hands were tucked casually into the pant pockets of his tux.

“I found it very interesting,” I said. “The two headed baby was a hoot.”

His green eyes lit up in a smile behind his mask.

“Mia!” another man called out.

My heart soared with happiness when I saw Richard making his way towards me through the swarm of people, slipping his mask up and resting it on his forehead.

He swept me up into his arms. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he said, dropping me gently back down. “What are you wearing?”

“Not much.”

His gaze drifted toward my sex. “What have you got on your…” He gestured the rest and his eyes crinkled in amusement. “What is that?”   

I threw a self-conscious glance over at Summer. “Glitter.”

Plague doctor hadn’t taken his eyes off me. If that was his collection, this was his place. I’d attracted the attention of the Tsar.

Richard removed his jacket and placed it around my shoulders to cover me. “You look cold, baby.” He arched a brow.

“Thank you.” I pulled it around me.

“We’re not staying,” said Summer. “Mia has a question for you.”

Oh jeez
. I was meant to be asking permission to rejoin the girls back in the tart-a-sphere.

I rose up on my toes and whispered in his ear, “I have to talk to you privately.”

The Tsar held out his hand to Richard. “May I introduce myself?”

“Richard Booth.” He shook the Tsar’s hand.

“I’m sorry,” said Summer. “I thought you’d already been introduced. “Richard, this is the director of Oberon, our Tsar. Richard was invited by Dr. Cole—”

“Your invitation is something I would very much like to discuss,” said the Tsar.

Richard’s face became unreadable. “It’s an honor.”

“Sheppard?” a man yelled from the crowd as he hurried toward us.

The short, plump man patted Richard’s back. “Haven’t seen you since Harvard.” He slid off his mask. “How are things? You look good.”

“Remy?” said Richard, recognizing him. “How are you?”

Remy shot us a concerned look. “Haven’t interrupted anything have I?”

Summer stepped forwards. “Mr. Booth, your owlet needs your permission to fully enjoy the nest.”

Richard’s expression changed to confusion.

“Is this your submissive?” asked Remy, sounding impressed. “Fuck me, she’s hot.”  

Richard was staring at the Tsar and the Tsar was staring at me.

“I was sorry to hear about your dad,” said Remy. “Terrible. I heard he still has some funds stashed away somewhere.”

Richard looked pained. “The feds took it all.”

“It wasn’t your father’s to keep,” said the Tsar.

A petite masked owlet came by and offered up a tray of drinks. The Tsar gave one to both Richard and Remy.

The Tsar took one for himself. “Will you join me in a toast? Please, share with me this Dalmore.”

Remy’s eyebrows shot up.

“We should probably go,” said Richard softly.

“The fun’s just begun,” said Remy. “How old is this?”

Richard took a sip. “Sixty-two years old. That’s why it’s called Dalmore 62.”

“Fuck me,” said Remy.

“Indeed,” said the Tsar.

A yank at my collar.

Mistress Summer gave another tug at the chain and it sent a jolt of pain into my neck.

“Shall we leave the men to enjoy their drinks?” she said.

“I have to ask him.” I rose onto my toes and whispered in Richard’s ear. “Helete’s here.”

Richard’s eyes snapped to mine. “Here?”

“Yes, in the nest.” I was too embarrassed to share in front of these men what she’d been doing. Or what they wanted to do to me.

Richard scanned the crowd and I assumed he was looking for Lance.

“We should let the ladies go,” said the Tsar. “So we can talk, Mr. Sheppard.”

“I go by Booth now.”

“You use your middle name?” said Remy. “Can’t say I blame you.”

“What did you want to talk to me about?” said Richard.

“A private matter,” said the Tsar. “Mistress Summer, perhaps you can find some pleasurable entertainment for Ms. Lauren?” He made a gesture he wanted us to go.

“Where did you find her?” said Remy, his lustful stare on me.

“Mia was a gift to Mr. Booth,” said the Tsar. “If I remember correctly?”

“A gift?” said Remy, chuckling. “And it’s not even Christmas yet.” He turned to the Tsar. “What does a man have to do to get a gift like that?”

“I’m too am intrigued,” said the Tsar. “What does one have to do?”

“I have to sit down,” said Richard, blinking. “Did you…” He shook his head. “I feel a little…”

Remy’s stare fell on his drink.

The Tsar pulled a chair over and told Richard to sit.

I knelt at Richard’s feet. “What’s wrong?”

He leaned into my ear. “I think…my drink…Mia…” He motioned to Summer then slumped back.

“Richard?” I grabbed his shirt.