Club ILLICIT 3: Billionaire Bonded Romance
Club Illicit
(Illicit Series – Book THREE The FINALE)
by
Savannah May
www.DirtySexyRomance.com
SavannahMayRomance@gmail.com
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Copyright © 2015 Savannah May. All rights reserved. Including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the author.
Version 2015.10.06
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Also check out the Billionaire Encounter Series of shorts
Club ILLICIT
Book 3 of the ILLICIT series of Billionaire Stepbrother Bonded
Chapter ONE
Harlow
My legs were refusing to carry me across the street to where Cruz was waiting for me in a black town car. All the muscles I was using to keep me steadily balanced on my five inch heels were collapsing under the weight of Cole's onslaught.
How did I come that close to letting him take me, right there in a service corridor at Club Illicit? Any waitress or bartender slaves could have come barreling along the passage and found us. Although as Cole said, no one would have thought it remotely unusual behavior for him to be thrusting hard into me and me screaming his name as I clutched him tighter to my hungry body.
The desire to feel him expanding into me, stretching my walls and penetrating my deepest buried center was beyond yearning. I wanted him inside my skin, possessing every part of me from the inside out. And no one else could take his place.
He may be a killer, he may be the erstwhile son of my mother's psycho husband, but he stirred an emotion in me I had never once felt in the years since he left me. For those reasons alone I had to get away from Cole Winter as far as possible. There was no way on this or any planet that we could ever be together like that again.
“Cruz, I'm sorry but I feel really shaky,” I told the beautiful male with the bright blonde hair and sparking blue eyes gazing up at me from the black leather interior of the town car.
“You okay, angelic? Did anything happen inside the club?” he said, never losing that blast of a smile, only adding a layer of concern.
“No, not really. I just think I need to go home. I'm sorry for messing around.”
Where was Kennedy? I could see through the open tinted window that she wasn't in the passenger or back seat. Cruz seemed to have lost his sister. He didn't adjust his serene features one iota at my change of heart.
“Harlow, I would never force a woman into anything but in your case I have to apply a little pressure. Simply because you're an absolute angel. I'd be a dolt to let you slip away if there's anything I can do to make you feel as aroused by coming to my place as you were inside the shibari room.”
He was almost hypnotic. The way he spoke to me made me feel swoony, as though I was inhaling the essential oil of submission.
“I promise you the experience you agreed to share with me and Kenn will release all your fears, worries and stress. You'll find a new level of strength and acceptance inside yourself that will take you to even higher levels of self confidence and determination. A woman like you should be fully in her power.”
“All that from one set of ropes?” I joked and Cruz's smile was even more glittering, if that was possible.
“Strange but true. Shibari really is a kind of magic.”
“And you're some kind of magician.”
He certainly seemed to be as I could feel whatever resistance I'd gathered falling down. It wasn't an entirely unpleasant sensation.
“Listen babe, no pressure, but you seem so stressed about some shit and if I can help you to lose even a little of that sadness furrowing your beautiful face, it would be my privilege. Any man would be honored to get close to you.”
His deep sea eyes merged into mine and whatever magical potion he held in them took hold of me. I wanted him to relieve me. I wanted to let go to him and have him make me better. And honestly, I wanted to be naked in front of him. The idea of having Cruz admire my body was making my nipples pebble up hard.
The pressure inside my breasts rose in response, pushing and hungering to be free. Cruz was the one man in the world who could possibly distract my mind from Cole. More than anything I needed that right now. If I didn't get Cole Winter out of my thoughts and eradicate my body's need to possess him, I feared I could literally lose my mind.
I'm positive Cruz was somehow aware of the reaction I was feeling because he leapt from the car to open the door for me. I found myself helpless as a hypnotist’s volunteer from the audience. Before I knew what was happening, I was settled in the passenger seat beside him.
We arrived at a spire building on 5th Avenue and a young man sprinted from the white marble lobby to take care of the car. The elevator was totally black glass, giving us a vampiric but sensuous glow and when I looked up into Cruz's eyes, we both laughed. As though we thought the same crazy imagining at the same moment.
The doors slid open on a suite with a view downtown across the back wall of glass. Everything was black and softly glowing with designer lighting and expensively scented Jo Malone candles.
But I couldn't check out the décor for being mesmerized by Kennedy, draped across the black velvet sofa. She was wearing nothing but a transparent gauze negligee robe that could only have come from the Agent Provocateur boutique Lily had shown me and that I hadn’t had the courage to step inside. Kennedy was sipping from a champagne glass and when we came in, rose to pour us two flutes from the bottle of ice cold Tatt waiting in the black crystal ice bucket.
“I thought I'd either expire or explode waiting for you two to get here,” she purred. “I'm so glad you came, Harlow. This is going to be beautiful.”
I shivered as, getting right to it, Kennedy slipped one side of my loose dress over the curve of my shoulder and down my arm. I swallowed hard as my breast came free, barely covered by the transparent nude net of my bra. She stroked her index fingertip across my nipple until it protruded like a bullet through an apple skin. My enlivened senses still hadn't regrouped following Cole's overwhelming touch.
Cruz sat across from us, watching intently. Delighted with the response she elicited from my body, Kennedy pinched my nipple between her thumb and finger, tugging it forward until it was fully protruding. Confused and unsure where this was going, what was expected of me, still I couldn't help from noticing how the throb buried between my thighs was intensifying.
“Oh god,” I whispered in a low moan.
What was I doing? I'd gotten myself in way too deep and now there was no way to extricate myself. Was I here merely to punish Cole for wanting me when it was wrong? Was I trying to show him I was just as cosmopolitan adventurous as he? Or prove it to myself? That I wasn't as uptight as I was beginning to suspect.
I couldn't think straight. The remnants of Cole's fierce caress fired through me again. I wanted him desperately, but instead I was here in this luxurious suite with the most beautiful pair of beings in the history of the world
. They were unnatural in their perfection, like angels or vampires. Ethereal and serene and too sexy for one woman to handle alone.
Cruz stretched his fingers out for my hands to take hold of and he raised me from my place on the sofa. He slipped the dress from my other shoulder and the touch of his skin against mine sent razors of pleasure ripping through my core. The fabric plummeted to the thick carpet and pooled around my ankles as Kennedy unhooked my bra behind me.
The light as air underwear fell loose and Cruz ripped it off so my breast fell free and I was standing nearly naked in front of him. His eyes seared into my buoyant mounds making my nipples stretch hard. I yearned for him to take them in his strong hands and squeeze until I shattered with pleasure.
Kennedy fell to her knees and dragged my underwear over my hips and down my thighs. Her gaze was fixed on my naked slit as she helped each ankle set free. My entire body tugged and reached toward the enigmatic pair surrounding me. Every pore pleading to be fondled. My thighs were damp from the sensuality of being exposed naked to the air in the suite and the siblings' entranced gaze.
In my wantonness I came close to stretching my legs apart to spread my hungry pussy for them. But Cruz had turned his attention to Kennedy and was slowly undoing the tiny satin buttons beneath her breasts holding the robe on.
It was mind-boggling erotic how he tantalizingly rolled each button in his fingers like a nipple, while the back of his hand shelved the underside of her breast. He slid the exquisite fabric over her shoulders and watched her full breasts tumble free. Cruz gave each one his full attention as he cupped first one swollen mound then the other in his palm and rolled the eager nipples in his grip.
My mind and body were in a turmoil, becoming delirious with need. We were both completely bare for Cruz's delicious stare. It was beyond anything I had ever put myself into but I wanted this so bad I could feel it in every single pore. Being stripped and exposed in front of Cruz was too stimulating to step away from.
“I'm going to be the fire that burns your skin,” Cruz murmured into my hair as he lifted the long coil of rope and began to twine it seductively around my body.
But I could not stop the tumult roiling through my head. Cruz was off the charts freaking hot but Cole would not stop slamming into my mind. Every brush of his fingertips had seared through my skin and left a burn mark forever. His eyes held deeper layers of desire and understanding and I could not stop the craving for his powerful muscles pulling me close to his shield of torso. I had to get him out of my thoughts permanently. It was proving to be an impossible task driving me to the edge of losing it.
When Cruz trailed his fingertips, holding the rope, agonizingly slow across my pellet nipples, I touched my tongue to my lower lip with a gasp. He needed little encouragement. With the precision of a master, he spent what must have been hours knotting the rope into an intricate floral knot surrounding my aureola.
Every tug and pull sent shafts of blinding need to my eyelids. When he dropped to the floor to loop the coil between my thighs, I stepped my feet apart a little wider for him. The blast of his hot breath across my swollen clit was sending me into paroxysms of hunger.
How long would this take? And what would happen once Cruz had finished bonding us together. I shuddered violently, recalling the last time I was restrained.
“You okay, Angel?” his eyes searched mine for unwanted emotion.
I nodded briefly, unable to speak from the tension pounding through me.
If he didn't give the agony between my legs relief soon, I was going to explode.
“You're so incredibly beautiful. Your body responds to me like a flower to the sun.”
He cupped both my mounds in his agile palms and strummed his fingers over the points, now trapped within a corona of twine. The screaming need for more scorched down to my thighs. “How did I never discover you before now?” he murmured.
I swallowed the yearning down. Cruz was like molten sunlight. He arced the rope length around Kennedy, standing behind me then came quickly back to my side. Caressing my body with the coarse rope, he was taking great care with amazing patterns decorating my sensitive points.
Kennedy was bonded to me and Cruz tugged the bondage holding us together tight enough that I could feel the heat emanating from her inner tunnel in my ass cheeks. Her hands were tied behind her and positioned at the crevasse of my ass. She could easily pull my cheeks apart and explore my inner lips.
But I didn't care. I was floating. Then my body lifted from the floor, attached to Kennedy and we were left hanging in space and time.
Chapter TWO
Cole
What the fucking fuck is she doing in there? I had Branson follow Harley when she got into that asshole's car. Nothing I could do to stop her going with him much as I wanted to. I wasn't going to launch into the big brother stuff, not even to suit my purpose right now. No fucking way.
When the club closed in the small hours of dawn, I took over from my guy. Watching the building, waiting for her to come out so I knew she was safe. I waited hours feeling like I was swallowing nails. Because if she wasn't happy, then that smooth fucking bastard, too good-looking to be a decent real man was going to suffer.
And now it's getting ridiculous because the hamsters are making a dash for their wheels. The suits rushing down the streets as though not getting to their glass boxes at the appointed hour is some indication of a personality disorder. And she still hasn't come out. If that asshole is such a stud that she needed to spend the night-
I smashed my fist into the dash to exorcize the image of my Harley curled up in his arms. Her soft breasts crushed into another man's chest was intolerable. A couple of guns, my Barrett .50s, were buried in the trunk and I was so fucking tempted to take that idiot out right now.
“What intel do we have on Cruz de Fuckwit Angelis?” I get on the phone with Strike, who never seems to sleep more than half an hour at a stretch. “What's his bent at Illicit?”
“Not much. He's a voyeur mostly. Comes in, strikes a pose with that alleged sister on a couch and takes it all in. Seems to be particularly hot for girl-on-girl bondage. And of course he's a nawashi.”
Fuck fuck fuck. In three seconds I'm out of the car and across the street, startling the crowd hurtling to their nine-to-five monotony in the cross current. No one is fucking tying up Harley after what happened to her in that basement. The only one who gets to restrain her body for themselves is me.
The towering glass and marble lobby is policed by three uniformed doormen behind a desk. I can't go busting in here without a plan and what am I gonna say? Excuse me, I think a guy in here is screwing my sister. Or feasting his snake eyes on her perfect body while his own sister screws her? At the last moment I uncurl my fist so that it's only my palm that takes the force of the wall slamming back against it.
This is fucking insane. It's driving me totally whack. I cannot stand the thought of her with another man but I have no right to that feeling. She isn't mine. Although I will never force the absolute conviction that she is to leave my mind. Harley was completely clear about it last night though and I'm currently out of options for what to do to change her certainty. Not that I'm ever gonna give it up. The velvet caress of her skin under my fingers, her delicious body that unfurls and welcomes a man. I can't allow anyone else to possess her. If I can't have her, no one can.
Then the memory of Harley throwing me off her bounds back. My fingers buried all the way inside her sweet pussy, claiming her as mine, suddenly out in the cold as she told me how much she hates everything about me. And my response to the pain of her rejection?
Oh shit, what the fuck was I thinking last night? The explosion of thwarted ravenous need for Harley could only be relieved with violence. And there was only one woman I knew who demanded that kind of aggression from a man.
Rowan is a dichotomy of kink. As a fem dom she ought to get off on subjugating a man which was why it could never work between us. But with me, she seems to relish the fight. We were l
ike Viking marauders, pulling hair, biting each other in mutual assault. We each worked out our frustrations in the sexual relief and I have never felt like a bigger shit. Which in truth is saying a lot.
It feels like I betrayed Harl by fucking Rowan in my office last night. Even if Harl had told me she would never let me touch her, she never wanted to see me, still I feel like sex with someone else was cheating. I will never forgive myself for losing control like that. I know Rowan wants me far more than I can give back to her. Maybe my refusal is a thrill for her because surely she can recognize that kind of fucking every night could get exhausting. I want comfort. I want soft beautiful welcoming Harley and no one else.
“You forget I saved Strike's life in Paris, when you forgot to have his back,” Rowan reminded me when I told her we could never do that again and Harley must never find out. “You were too busy rescuing lost women in Africa.”
“You know I'm forever grateful to you for that. I'll always take care of you Ro, but that one good deed is not a bartering tool for my passion.”
She made that aggressive pout that drives her men wild. All men except me that is. There's only one pair of lips that can mesmerize me and make me forget everything. I've got a feeling she'll find a way to let Harlow know at the first opportunity that I betrayed her with my assistant.
“I can't understand how she keeps a hold over a man like you for six fucking years,” Rowan barked.
I could tell she's in pain too and I'm sorry for that but I wish I could tell her that Harlow is the only woman who's ever made me feel—anything. If it wasn't for my father Harley and I would be together and I'd make sure we stayed that way forever.
“You need a man with a genuine brutal streak,” I told her. A man like Cruz de Angelis was the instant thought that drove me out of the club to find Harley.
So consumed am I wandering the guilty halls of last night, I almost miss her. I have to slam my body back against the outside wall, just in time as Harley rushes from the elevator and out of the building. She looks—different.