Page 103 of Enthrall Climax
“What’s the address?” I begged Omani with my eyes.
“Don’t know.” She shook her head, but I could easily tell she was lying.
Because this place was so secret, those who reveled in its existence were threatened with a ruined life if they spoke out.
I broke my gaze from hers and stared at Shay. He nodded to let me know he’d get me on the next plane out of New York.
“I need you to leave.” I shot Henry a glare.
“Why?”
“Out you go,” snapped Shay.
Henry threw a wary glance at Omani. “I’m staying.”
“Go, now!” I wasn’t backing down.
“Jesus.” He stormed out.
Shay closed the door.
It was time to slice through this delusion. “Omani, obey.”
She fell to her knees and peered up at me through heavy lids, slipping into subspace, her breaths short and sharp; those telltale signs of arousal proving she’d been conditioned.
“You like being submissive?” I stepped closer.
“Yes, sir.”
“You like being bought nice things?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to your master? Did he give you to Helete?”
“No.” She glared. “But he no longer wanted me. It was over between us.”
“Explain.”
“I left the house and went to Paris to shop a little. He’d given me money to spend.” She shook her head proving the memory still hurt. “He sent me an email saying not to bother coming home. Not to try to contact him.”
“Hillenbrand?” I said softly.
“He didn’t want me to come home.”
I knelt to better read her face as I realized her master had left her out in the cold.
“Luckily, Helete was in France and she reached out to me. I met her at the Pantheon and she told me she’d help. I had no more money, you see. No job. Nothing. Just the clothes on my back.”
“I see.”
“I don’t know why he stopped loving me. Why he didn’t tell me in person. I suppose that is why he sent me away.”
I reached for her chin and tipped it up. “You are marked.”
From the way she responded I knew she’d been primed by the very best. The greatest tragedy was when a sub lost a master they had a hard time bonding with someone new. And the bastards had left her with a tattoo with no chance of forgetting. She was exquisite, a perfect submissive. It didn’t make any sense; Omani would have been a jewel in Hillenbrand’s crown.
“Tell me about Hillenbrand?” I asked gently.
