by Linzi Basset
“Gaaawwwd!” Her scream rang through his ears.
“Ahh, baby, what a beautiful melody you sing.”
He widened his stance and swung the floggers in a full circle, creating a rotational motion of nonstop hits. As soon as the one set of strips lifted, the next one lashed at her skin.
Morgan screamed, writhing against the chains holding her in place. Her back was on fire but it was so different than the whipping she’d been subjected to. This aroused as much as it hurt. It was such a conflicting feeling that she was thrust into a surplus of sensations.
“Ahh, freaking hell,” she cried and thrashed as he repeated the same process on her buttocks. Her screams and sobs tore from her throat, whether from distress or arousal, she couldn’t tell.
“You’re doing so well, baby,” Bruce crooned in her ear. She hissed as the roughness of his leathers and vest against her stinging skin reverberated all the way into her bones, to hover there for a brief moment before it raced through her veins to increase the throbbing in her clitoris.
“Talk to me, Delilah. Tell me where you are?”
Morgan could do no more than hang in the chains, arching her back as he traced a tantalizing path toward her breasts. A sharp pinch brought a carnal moan to her lips which puffed out in an elated sob when his finger circled her clit and rubbed it.
“Ah, little one, your bouquet is driving me insane.” He breathed in deeply as he delved one long finger inside her pussy. “So hot and wet.”
She was helpless against his expertise and the way he awakened her lust.
“I’m waiting, Delilah. Where are you? Green, yellow or red?”
“I am close to falling off yellow, Master Goliath. Oh fuck!” she squealed as he pinched a nipple and a clit simultaneously.
“Don’t come, my pet. I’m not ready to see you fly.”
“But I am,” she whispered brokenly, trembling in disbelief at how easily he’d taken her so close to the edge. Using a goddamned flogger for heaven’s sake.
“We’re almost there, baby. Remember, Delilah, you don’t climax until I tell you too.”
“Then you better keep those words on the tip of your tongue,” she said with flashing eyes as he stood in front of her, his legs spread wide. He looked like a marauding pirate on the deck of a ship. Her breathing hitched in a marriage of excitement and fear.
“Are you telling me what to do, sub?” His eyes darkened as he felt the dare travel along his veins to heat up his loins.
“I wouldn’t dare, Sir. It was but a suggestion.”
“Nice save, squirt,” he chuckled devilishly.
He started again and found his rhythm within the first two strikes. “Now the fun starts, my pet.”
Bruce began at her thighs, working up to her stomach, and abs. Soft at first with increasing intensity until her screams soothed the beast inside him. A scatter of applause erupted behind them as the audience watched in awe when he expertly flicked the floggers in tight circles—a mesmerizing movement—achieved with nothing more than precise flicks of his wrists. He spread his legs wider to brace himself.
“Now for my favorite part, baby,” he warned. Morgan was too aroused to take heed, her head bowed back as she endeavored to stay the climax that threatened to explode at any moment.
Bruce lowered his arms, flicked his wrists and the leather strips arched in a continuous circle, landing with acute accuracy against her nipples.
“Ahhh,” her scream burst from her lips. “I can’t … owww!” she wailed as he aimed each strike directly at her nipples. Her body jerked in the chains, now in a frenzy of lust.
“I’m coming … please,” she screamed as he alternated between her stomach and breasts in revolving circles, finding every nerve spot on her belly, and finally, her pussy. Morgan was struck mute, desperately trying to pinch back the climax that pulsed in rhythm with the smooth strikes, now connecting with her pussy over and over like the wheels of a runaway train.
She screamed as he switched between her nipples and pussy until she shuddered uncontrollably.
“Please! I need to come!” she sobbed.
Pain had morphed into need―pure scorching need―long ago already. Her cries were of desperation. The heat of the burning lashes had warmed her blood and she didn’t have the strength or the willpower to fight it any longer.
“Come for me, Delilah.”
Morgan barely heard his dark voice as he flicked his wrists sharply, pulled each strike upward right at the end, ensuring the tips of the leather, stung just inside her pussy.
The world tilted around her as an uncontrolled climaxed rippled through her. Bruce released a primal growl as he watched a gush of clear liquid slither down her thighs as she squirted, again and again.
“Beautiful. So, fucking perfectly beautiful.”
Morgan was deaf to his words, or the applause from the crowd as she fell weakly into his arms as he released the cuffs.
“Holy shit,” she mumbled as he lifted her in his arms, not even upset when a chuckle rumbled from his throat.
He had promised her a trip to the clouds and he delivered.
Lord, and how! Was the last thought in her mind before she slipped into an exhausted slumber.
Chapter Eighteen
Bruce wrapped his arms around Morgan from where he stood behind her. He’d taken a long time with aftercare, which left her feeling loved and cherished. She was still encased in a euphoric haze. They had joined their friends in the Entertainment Area in the far corner―an area specifically cordoned off for the Senior Managers to ensure some privacy. He nibbled on the curve of her ear. She relaxed against him, a pleasing tingle the only remaining memory of their scene.
“In the mood for a cocktail, love?”
Morgan felt the thrill of a shiver race down her spine. It was incomprehensible that he had such an effect on her. He’d just flogged her into an oblivion of climaxes and here she was, once again twitching with arousal.
“Any suggestions, my Master?”
“Hmm, I love hearing those words on your lips, my pet.” His lips brushed over her cheek. “Have I told you that you complete me?”
Morgan was shaken by the sudden shift in direction. She closed her eyes, biting back the words that were constantly on her lips. She couldn’t declare her love to him, not until she was free. It wouldn’t be fair to him to believe they had a future, only to realize she’d been right.
“I … er … don’t recall—”
“Keon! Ethan!” Paige’s loud shriek interrupted her response. Everyone turned to watch her running toward them. “Hurry! Lauren’s water just broke and I think she’s already in labor.” She pressed her hands against her cheeks. “Good lord, she’s crawling around on the floor of the ladies’ room in pain."
“I fucking told her we should’ve stayed at home," Keon growled as he stormed after Paige who had turned to run back to the ladies’ room, with the rest of the group following on his heels.
It was quite a sight that met their eyes when they entered a couple of moments after Keon. The big man sat flat on the floor, tenderly holding Lauren on his lap. He grunted as a low growl escaped her lips and she clamped her hands around his wrist.
“Well, what the devil are you standing around for? Has anyone phoned the ambulance yet?” He stroked Lauren’s belly, surprised at the hardness of it. “There, Red, easy, now. Just relax. Breathe, baby.” His head snapped up again. “Ethan! Get the hell over here and tell me what’s happening.”
Ethan hid his smile. He had seen men of all shapes and sizes reduced to withering boys in the face of a woman in labor. It seemed this big guy was no different. He had come to the club for some distraction and relaxation. Catching a baby hadn't been part of the plan.
“I think it’ll be better if we do this in the first aid room. At least there’s a bed and it’s sterile,” he said in an even voice.
Keon didn’t hesitate. He got up without letting go of his precious cargo and stomped out. “Stop dawdling, mate. Move it.
” His voice floated back toward them.
Ethan laughed. “I guess I better not keep him waiting.” Once again, the entire group trailed after Keon.
After a thorough checkup, Ethan was resigned to the fact that he would have to assist with the birth. He looked at the faces surrounding the bed. The room had shrunk in size the minute they all crammed inside.
"Well, mates, are you ready to meet the first Club Devil’s Cove baby?"
"What the devil are you blabbering about, Ethan? Where the fuck is that ambulance?" Keon bellowed.
Lauren palmed his chin and smiled bravely. "Relax, my hulk. Ethan is here, so there’s no need to worry so much. I think what he's saying is that there's no time to wait for the ambulance." She hissed; her nails cut into his hand as another contraction seared through her.
"Hell no! We can't have our baby here. Ethan!" His voice rose and thinned to a gruff shriek. “What if he’s too big and you need …” his hands flailed through the air, “I don’t know, a scalpel or oxygen! What if it’s a breech birth! You said it’s a possibility with such a big baby.”
It was enlightening to witness the big man unraveling in the face of his son’s impending birth.
“It’s not a breech, Keon. Your son is lined up and ready to pop out any moment now,” Ethan tried to soothe his fears as Paige and Lexi scattered about to remove Lauren’s clothes and cover her with a thin sheet.
“We need some boiled water and clean towels,” Paige said in a strict voice. She looked around when no one paid any attention. “Anyone?” she chipped with an arched eyebrow.
“I’ll get the towels,” Richard volunteered and zoomed down the hallway in the direction of the storeroom.
“Water’s mine,” Max said as he disappeared in the direction of the restaurant kitchen.
“And what the devil are the rest of you loitering about for? This isn’t a public scene,” Keon puffed indignantly.
“We’re not going anywhere, mate.” Bruce offered Lauren a gentle smile. “It’s not as though we’ve never seen Red naked.”
“Naked in a scene is completely different from giving birth.” He winced as Lauren’s nails cut into the palm of his hand. He pressed his head against hers and crooned gruffly, “Breathe, Red. That’s my girl. Just like that.”
“Oh, that’s just so sweet,” Joanne said in a teary voice.
Keon had lost his initial panic and was now in control of his emotions. He seared his friends with a warning glance. “Just let one of you fuckers try and chase me out when your babies arrive. I’m gonna plant my big ass feet right inside the delivery rooms.”
“Easy, Lauren,” Ethan crooned in a soothing voice. “Just try and relax. You’re almost fully dilated. Don’t push yet.”
“Tell that to ... this impatient son of ours,” Lauren ground out through clenched teeth, wailing from a contraction that caused her back to arch.
Ethan looked around. “Where’s the water and towels?”
His words were still echoing around them when Richard arrived with his lap piled with towels. Max led the way to three servers from the restaurant area carrying large stainless-steel pots filled with steaming water. They gave the moaning woman on the bed one look and couldn’t get out of the room fast enough.
“Oh god, Ethan!” Lauren cried, her eyes bulging as her belly contracted again. “I can’t stop it. He’s coming!”
Ethan settled at the bottom edge of the bed and pushed the sheet out of the way. “Nothing to panic about, Red. It looks like this little tyke is ready to face the world.”
Paige stood by his side, ready to assist in any way possible.
Morgan couldn’t take her eyes off the scene unfolding. To witness such a miracle was beyond anything she’d expected to experience when they came to the Club tonight.
“With the next contraction, I want you to push as hard as you can.” Ethan smiled at her with a conspiring wink. “Let’s see if we can get his head out in one go.”
“You don’t ask for much do YOUUUU!” Lauren ended in a scream as the contraction lashed at her insides. She heaved and bore down with Keon offering her support behind her back.
“Well hello, little Jake,” Ethan said in an even, relaxed tone. It managed to settle Lauren and Keon’s frazzled nerves. He looked at Lauren, smiling broadly. “He’s in a hurry, this little bugger. One more mighty push should do it, little one. Ready?”
“Oh god, I don’t know if I can do this,” Lauren wailed, her breathing erratic as she blew a piece of hair out of her face. Keon tenderly brushed it back.
“You can do this, my love. There’s no woman braver and stronger than you. I’m here, Red. All the way with you.”
“Wonderful, then next time you can push a baby the size of a watermelon on steroids out your ass!” A low keen slipped from her lips. She clamped her teeth into Keon’s shoulder. He hissed in pain but didn’t move.
“That’s it, push. Now, Lauren, hard!”
“Oh my god,” Morgan said in awe as the tiny body slipped free.
Ethan cut the cord while Paige folded the little baby with the utmost tenderness in a towel. The next moment, his first loud shriek echoed through the room.
“Come meet your mommy and daddy, little Jake.” Paige gently placed the precious bundle in Lauren’s arms.
Tears of joy and relief flooded her eyes.
“Look at our beautiful little boy, Keon,” Lauren whispered as she leaned down to kiss his forehead.
“God, Red … you did even this with such beauty and spirit,” Keon said in awe, hugging her tight, not bothering to wipe the tears that flowed freely from his eyes as he cupped his son’s head.
“Well, mate, I have to say. It’s a good thing he looks like his mother,” Max teased him with laughter. His hands circled Joanne and came to rest on her belly. He kissed her cheek. “We’re next, love.”
Bruce and Rhone looked at each other. No matter how much they shared in their friend’s joy, they couldn’t help but be concerned.
Now, there was one more game piece at Reece’s disposal.
“We need to talk,” Bruce said in a quiet aside to Rhone while everyone cooed around the happy parents. He glanced at Morgan who was equally enthralled with the new arrival.
“Richard, please keep an eye on Morgan. Don’t let her roam into the club on her own,” he said. With Wade skulking around everywhere tonight, he needed to be ensured of her safety.
“Not to worry, mate. I’ll be on her heels all the time.”
The paramedics arrived just as they made their way out of the room. Keon’s “It’s about time,” floated after them as Bruce stalked toward the Entertainment Room, his eyes doing a quick sweep, looking for Wade. He relaxed as he noticed him behind the bar.
“What’s up?” Rhone joined him, following his sharp gaze that studied their Club Manager. “You’re concerned about our decision to give Wade enough rope to lead us to Reece?”
“Yes. I don’t trust Reece, not at this stage. He’s desperate and the fact that he didn’t think twice to send the Russians to Ethan’s house worries me. He knew Ethan wasn’t there. He wanted them to kill Paige to send a message to us.” He gestured toward the first aid room. “We’re still recovering from Jaxon almost dying, what better way to completely cripple us than to take away the most precious thing that just happened?”
They noticed how Wade’s eyes kept darting toward the hallway leading to the first aid room. When the paramedics appeared with mother and child on the gurney, a Cheshire grin lit up his face like a sallow candle in a dirty paper lamp. It was as if the temperature in the room dropped. Even over the distance they could see his eyes glimmer. He spoke to the bartender assisting him and made his way toward the open sliding doors, heading for the patio.
“We can’t allow him to inform Reece about little Jake, Rhone. Fuck him leading us to Reece. We already decided I’ll be the bait,” Bruce said brusquely. “We have no reason to wait. It’s time to end this once and for all—starting with Will Lovett.”
>
“I agree,” Rhone snapped as they quickly followed Wade, watching him disappear outside. They sped up, unaware of Morgan who came looking for her purse, which she’d left on the sofa in the corner.
“Hey, Wade, what’s up.” Bruce had difficulty keeping his tone civilized as they approached him where he was about to make a phone call to the left of the wide retractable doors, which as usual, stood open to the inviting view of the subtly lit maze.
Wade started visibly, his eyes darting between the two imposing men closing in on him. He relaxed as they both smiled engagingly. He gestured to the sky. “Just needed a little fresh air and a breather. The bar is very busy tonight.”
“Not unusual for a Friday night,” Rhone said in an agreeable tone. They moved closer, tactically placing Wade between them. If he tried to make a run for it now, he’d either have to jump over the balcony to the side or try and go through them. Either way, they systematically pushed him toward the corner, where he’d have no way out.
Wade felt claustrophobic, his eyes darted between them. On face value, they appeared relaxed but he didn’t miss the way their bodies thrilled with tension. He gulped in realization. They knew. One way or the other, they’d found out he was a fake. Worse, that he was part of The Sixth Order. He straightened, inching slowly to the right. Bruce moved with, step by step. He stopped, his eyes darting back and forth, desperately seeking an escape route.
“Something wrong?” Bruce said with a tight smile.
Wade spread his one hand to draw attention from the other, slowly reaching for the gun in the back of his belt, hidden from view by the formal suit jacket he always wore to the club.
“No, but you guys seem a little uptight,” he continued to play for time, the cogs in his brain frantically floundering about. A gunshot would invite the rest of the bastards outside in a flash and they’d all be on his ass. He had to find a way to outwit them.