Enthralled (Dark Passions) Read Online Free Page B

over his face. He smiled at me and said, “Drink your
latte, Mel. It’s getting cold.”
     
      
I ran my finger along the edge of the glass. “We were in the middle of
something important,” I said.
     
      
He nodded, and said, “But we’re closing the subject. For now, yes?”
     
      
I nodded tentatively, and took a sip of my coffee.
     
      
“Good,” he said. “Then drink up. We have an arduous afternoon of shopping ahead
of us, and you’ll need as much of a caffeine boost as you can get.”
     
    ***
     
     “This
necklace is perfect for you,” Bradley said, picking up a plastic daisy choker
from the vendor’s display case. His face was deadpan, but there was a teasing
note to his voice. I raised my eyebrow at him, took the necklace from his hand,
and fastened it around my neck.
     
      
“Those are really popular,” the vendor chirped up. “Selling like hotcakes,” he
added.
     
      
I glanced at Bradley, and, angling myself so that the vendor couldn’t see my
face, I rolled my eyes.  Then, in a low voice, I said “I’m glad this flower
child thing didn’t make it past the eighties. How unbearably cheesy.”
     
      
Bradley grinned at me and stroked one of the plastic daisies with his finger.
“We’ll take it,” he said to the vendor. Then leaning in close, he whispered,
“Consider yourself collared,” with that mischievous look in his eye that I was
coming to love.
     
      
“Not a chance,” I said firmly, removing the necklace and putting it back in the
velour display case. Then, softly, so that only Bradley could hear, I added,
“There are limits to my indulgence for your need for control. You can order me
around in bed, Bradley, but I won’t be owned.”
     
      
His eyes twinkling with pleasure, he leaned in and kissed me softly on the
cheek, then whispered, “I don’t want to own you, or control you Melanie. I just
want you to feel it’s safe to lose control with me. That’s the turn on for me,
baby.”
     
      
His words sent a little thrill running up my spine. He’d just nailed it. That’s
what made his dominance such a huge turn on for me. I could give up
responsibility for myself, because I trusted him to hold me up, and to read me
well enough to figure out what I desired, and to push me past my inhibitions so
that I could live out my wildest fantasies.  
     
      
“Let’s go,” he said, nodding curtly at the vendor and grabbing my hand. We’d
taken a cab down to Soho, because I was deadly curious to see my neighborhood
back in the seventies, when it was buzzing with avant-garde artistic energy.
The scene was completely different. The galleries didn’t have the polished,
expensive look of their counterparts in 2012, but the art itself was raw,
magnetic, and pulsing with energy. As we passed a gallery, my vision was
arrested by a series of black-and-white photographs of a naked woman,
documenting the stages of her extreme weight loss. “Those are by Eleanor
Antin,” I said, my voice full of excitement.
     
      
“Quite right,” Bradley said. “And after decades of work by her and many other
artists, calling attention to how women are forced to modify their bodies to
please the world, not much has changed,” he said, squeezing my hand. “Women
still feel they have to conform to someone else’s fantasy.”
     
      
I felt a rush of blissful warmth pass through me at that moment, realizing that
I must be one of the luckiest girls in the world. I took both of Bradley’s
hands, pulled them around my waist, and looked up into his glorious eyes.
     
      
“What’s the big smile about?” he asked, eyeing me curiously.
     
      
“You don’t make me conform to your fantasies,” I said, reaching up to gently
brush a stray lock of hair off his forehead. “You actually see me,” I said, my
voice full of gratitude. “Even when I try to hide, you still see me.”
     
      
“Yes, Melanie, I do,” he said, looking at me earnestly. “And now I