Club ILLICIT 3: Billionaire Bonded Romance

by May, Savannah

  “Are you feeling fine? Do you want me to stop?” Cruz asked.

  I shook my head no. I had the lost the ability to speak. I was floating in warm air. Maybe this was how a baby felt inside the womb's amniotic fluid. It was like being totally supported and held in a safe embrace. In this case I was a twin, cocooned with Kennedy's body curled around mine. Cruz seemed pleased at my inability to enunciate any words.

  “Good baby- that’s good You're in the zone.”

  Zone?

  In my mind I was flying. A sort of euphoric high combined with incredible calm. I was completely surrendered to another person and totally at one with his ability to care for me. Was this what people went to Illicit for? To experience the sensation of being ultimately free? I never imagined the high would come from the rope.

  I thought Cruz only wanted to exert control over me, to have me at his command, completely submissive with no power of my own while he touched me. But Cruz barely grazed my skin and I found myself hungering for the sensuous stroke of his fingertips, as he carefully adjusted the rope into perfect hold.

  “Now we three are bonded,” he uttered when he stepped back to admire the finished product.

  He dragged on the rope pulley so Kennedy and I rose, as one unit up into the air. We remained dangling in space while he wandered circles around us. He was more interested in his artwork, the creativity of our two forms held in the bounds than in inspecting our sexy parts. Then he sat for hours with a cocktail, just watching us go through our state of ultimate release.

  I was deeply disappointed when he eventually let us down and freed us. I could have stayed in that almost out-of-body experience for much longer. But once it was over and I looked at the photos Cruz had shot for his collection, I was terrified. I had criticized Cole for his tacky sex club, then immediately run off with someone else to try it out.

  “You couldn't do that with your own brother.” I told myself as the elevator rode smoothly back down from the clouds.

  But then why not? Kennedy didn't seem to have a problem with it. I wasn't sure whether it was sexual or not for those two, but my pussy was throbbing like a lion after the event and I yearned for Cole to take me with all his power.

  If Cole ever saw those pictures he'd be enraged enough to kill. Cruz promised they were for his personal gallery only and I had to trust him.

  So why did I feel so guilty? As though I'd somehow betrayed Cole?

  I couldn't admit that really I wanted to protect Cole. All the stories I told myself were covering up one thing. If I'd asked myself, or if Fatou had spoken my language enough to tell me what was clear to her, I'd have realized that my fury at Rowan and the tears of humiliation flowing on my cheeks meant that I was covering up my feelings for my new brother.

  “Harley, just stop,” I told myself. Chatting away, so the doorman looked at me in surprise, a lunatic in his building. “You're too ripped up by recent events to untangle the reasons right now.”

  Now I rode down from Cole's penthouse. Waiting ten minutes longer than necessary after I watched Rowan leave on the closed circuit cameras. I couldn't take the chance of her forgetting something and discovering me when she came stomping back.

  “Yooo,” Fatou had repeated over and over, her finger jabbing at the air in front of my chest. “Yoooo.”

  “I know Fatou. It's up to me. Don't worry I'm going to take care of it.” I'd hugged her, somehow trying to make up for Rowan's insult.

  There was only a couple of hours left to get ready for tonight.

  Chapter FIVE

  “There is no way I'm letting you go this one alone,” Lily said for the hundredth time, when I explained how Cruz had asked me whether I was interested in joining a very exclusive new group.

  “It's for men that need a certain kind of amusement. There'll be designer shoes and endless champagne, aside from the money.”

  I left out the part where he invited me after noticing my glistening slit protruding from between my pink lips. How turned on I was by being bound by him. He didn't know it was from the earlier events of the evening still playing in my mind. Cole was still the only man I could think of.

  “I'm in. No way I'm missing tonight's party.” Dang, she was adamant.

  Tonight was the first try-out for the women of Cruz's new club venture. And I had a good reason for wanting to be there that had nothing to do with seeing the sexy hunk again. It could be my one opportunity to find out where the hit on Cole's father was supposed to take place. Somehow I had to ensure that nothing happened to my mother's vile husband. I couldn't see her upset anymore because of me. Mostly I couldn't let anything happen to Cole.

  “But wouldn't a Cruz club be competition for Illicit? Are you so mad at Cole that you'd help his rival get started?” Lily said.

  “No, of course not. But I was on such a euphoric trip, that when he asked, I told Cruz I'd think about it.

  I needed time to figure stuff out and put it all together.”

  Then Cruz let slip that he'd been asked to train the girls in submitting to bondage by a Senator at Illicit. As soon as I heard the word Senator, my ears prickled. Could Cruz's senator be the same one blackmailing Cole into murdering his own father? Or was I wrong in my assumption that the senator who offered Cruz the deal had to be the same one that was threatening Cole with destruction if he failed in that mission?

  If the senator had propositioned Cruz with the deal then he was planning to take Illicit down with or without the hit on my step father. And Cole had worked too hard and built something too amazing to lose it all. There was only one way to find out. I had to put myself on the list for that party. Then when I heard Rowan on the phone, planning Cole's destruction, it had all become clear.

  “Stop looking at me so horrified, Lil. I have a very good reason. Two very good reasons, in fact.”

  Lily continued to stare at me with what-the-fuck-are-you-on shock. As I explained everything, her jaw came back up from her knees and a smile spread upwards.

  “So we get to be like, Russian spies except with better shoes?” she giggled.

  “Does that mean you're in because I don't think I can do this alone?”

  “You bet. This adrenalin thing is kind of addictive and you know I'm all about the footwear.”

  “But Lil I can't put you in this much danger,” I resisted yet again. “It probably won't be shibari as much as more forceful types of domination. It could get painful – literally.”

  “That's my choice isn't it? Aren't we experimenting with our limits right now?”

  “I guess.” Was I more apprehensive about the Senator being a killer or at the possibility of letting go of my barriers?

  “So how am I gonna feel if I didn't join, letting you put yourself in a rat-arse nest with no one at your back? Two is twice as powerful as one, or something like that.”

  “Are you sure it's not just for the shoes and champagne?” I countered.

  “Well sweetie who doesn't like some free Manolos and Perrier Jouet. But that's just the bonus that goes with being your sidekick.”

  “Okay but we're only going long enough to get the information about where the drop is going to take place, then we're out of there.”

  “Guides honor.” She raised her fingers in her weird salute. “Although I don't think there's ever been a badge for S&M.”

  And we both got a fit of giggles that covered up my apprehension. On top of the danger, I wasn't at all sure how I was going to feel seeing Cruz de Angelis in the gorgeous face again.

  We arrived at the address he'd given me and were told to get in the town car waiting at the curbside. But only after we were blindfolded with black silk scarves. I had a little quiver as I recalled the last time, but this wouldn't be like the ugliness in dungeon with Michael. Totally the opposite. The reception room we were pointed toward was opulent enough for a President, filled with women of every size and style.

  “Something for every taste,” Lily whispered.

  We were dressed, quite literally,
because what first appeared to be airline stewardess outfits were so tight it was impossible to get them on without assistance. The red suits were made of a thick stretch fabric so that our bodies were sculpted and molded into perfect hourglass figures.

  “I can't even bend. I guess I won't be sitting down tonight,” I said, looking at the enormous platform heels covered with studs.

  “Bend? I can't even breathe,' Lily says. “But the precious is worth anything.” She was stroking the wildly expensive Louboutin shoes like treasure. “Can you put it on for me though.”

  I couldn't bend forward enough to reach her foot either and the dresser who returned from tugging one of the other girls into her suit had to take care of Lily's footwear.

  There were a bunch of men in the ballroom. I looked around the huge space, thinking it looked familiar somehow. Then I grabbed the pink champagne on offer and stood slightly awkward, feeling like I was a heifer at the State fair. Was one of these men going to select me? Was this night about being chosen as the “maid” for a powerful man.

  Thanks to Cole, I had some experience with influence and these men didn't look to me to be of the top echelon. They had money no doubt but they looked more like White House aides than genuine power brokers.

  “Would you come with me please, miss?” A black jacket politely requested Lily and after tossing me a grin, she followed him out through the french windows to the lawn.

  I swallowed the lump rising in my throat and grabbed another flute. A few minutes later another black-suited maitre d' type came for me. So far as I could tell, only Lil and I had been pulled from the cattle market.

  Ohmigod what if we'd somehow been recognized from Illicit? Maybe the Senator or his people were on to us.

  We walked down the lawn with the chill in the air increasing and I realized we were at the waterfront. And there was a massive white yacht to board. Once up the gangplank, the very small party in the salon was made up of a totally different elite, absolutely reeking of power and money.

  The men were all older and moved expertly around each other, sizing up the game of big business. The girls at the party were merely an interlude to their real lust obsession. And they covered every possible requirement. From slaves to doms to a woman with massive bare breasts available to nurse a man.

  I felt my body recoil from this. It didn't feel sexual or arousing, it just felt like I was about to be used as a toy. If I'd needed the money, then I could see how it was a perfectly fine exchange of services but I was here for only one reason. I scoured the room and instantly saw him. A man I recognized from Illicit.

  He'd been there both times. I recalled him clearly from my first time, in a scene I'd never forget because of how it shocked my innocent mind back then. He'd been involved in a threesome right at my feet with an enormous black man and a blindfold woman. The senator.

  He was mostly absorbed in talking to the men, ignoring the other girls who’d been plucked from the waiting hall and brought into the den, all topless. Their suit jackets ripped open at the front so their breasts were bare. Trussed up hard so they spilled over, looking like ripe fruit for plucking.

  The Senator was suddenly intrigued by my arrival and his eyes met mine from across the room. Thinking he might have recognized me from the club, I immediately dropped them to the ground. My heart was thounding like a barn dance in my chest. At the same moment, another man. Tall and handsome, but with a terrible air of command approached Lily.

  “Strip,” he ordered her.

  I was stunned to see how my best friend instantly pulled the perfectly constructed jacket open and freed her breasts for him. More than that, she kept her eyes on the floor at all times, even when he pulled out a clamp and attached it to her nipple. I winced just watching. How did she manage to remain so demure?

  “May I?'

  The senator had appeared beside me like a demon apparition. My body cringed inside from the aura of malevolence enveloping him. He was holding a dog collar of the kind I'd seen women wearing at Illicit. Almost three inches thick with a long chain trailing to the ground. I was thankful to my bestie for showing me the ropes (so to speak) and immediately dropped my eyes to the floor with a tacit acceptance.

  “My honor,” I whispered. Not knowing if that was the correct way to behave. I imagined the slave girls at Illicit and put myself in their towering shoes. But perhaps I should not even utter a word.

  The Senator seemed pleased though and snapped the metal band around my neck. It was tight enough to be uncomfortable but not unbearable. He picked up the end of the chain and led me across the room. Oh my god, what next?

  Chapter SIX

  Cole

  Harley hasn't been home all day and then I hear from Bron that she's at the fucking Governor's Mansion. I'm ready to get ballistic and storm the joint as those asshole politicians trained us to do in foreign countries all over the world.

  What the fuck is she doing? I can only imagine that Cruz de Angelis wasn't the only asshole she met last night and she's been lured into—I don't even wanna imagine it.

  “Calm down boss. You need to keep your reactions in balance.”

  Strike is at my side, thank the devils. His task always to keep my mind stable and not fire off before proper assessment of all the available intel. But after a second of deliberation, I'm firing on jet fuel all over again.

  “I can't fucking calm down. We need to take her out of there now.”

  “We can't storm into the governor's mansion for the purpose of retrieving a hostage who elects to be there. Sounds like the old pervert's having a party. With respect boss, Harlow might only get more rebellious if we continue to repress her.”

  “You think I'm treating her like a child?”

  “No. I think you're treating her like a man in love.”

  All the fire goes out of me like I've been hit with an overhead water bomb.

  “Is it so obvious?” I half growl at my only friend. The man who knows what I'm thinking before I do. “Yeah okay, don't answer that.”

  “She's the one isn't she? That you had those dreams about in Africa? That you been holding a torch the size of a drone strike for since I've known you.”

  I nod my head. Why would I ever lie to Strike? He can see what I'm feeling before I can, it's his entire mission, what he's been trained for and he's right. I am so fucking desperately in love I can't see, think or hear straight. Like all my senses have been struck inanimate by the magic power of the one girl in the world I can't have.

  Every second that Harley gets further away from me is only another hour that I'll fight harder to get her back. I may have screwed this up better than a politician's promise, but still, it ain't over til it's over. I'm not sure what she hates most about me – what she calls my sex club or the fact that the man who sired me is a sick fuck. Maybe the two are tied in a fucked up partnership.

  She may believe that the club is an indicator of my need to control and dominate, which for her signifies abuse because of what asshole Michael put her through. I can't make her understand that emotional abuse, psychological domination, is a far worse crime against another person than full consensual sex play.

  “You gotta fight boss.”

  “I intend to. Until the end.” We're both totally aware of what the end means for us.

  “We got eyes on her right now?”

  “Constant. She came back with her friend from whatever the function at the Governor's Mansion and met her mom. They're currently eating breakfast at Stankey's Diner.”

  “The second she's alone, I want her back here.”

  I'm keeping her in the penthouse if I have to bind her in the fucking red room. It may be the worst choice I could make in view of what she''s been through. She may hate me even more but if her mother's onto her yet again then my old man's somewhere close behind. It's not Harley herself he wants to possess. His only intent is to take from me any woman I care for. He doesn't care who he hurts in the process of hurting me.

  “Yeah. We gotta keep
her under wraps while the hit goes down tonight,” Strike agrees.

  “There is no way she can ever find out about this.”

  “That's why you gotta let me take care of it. You can't hide it but if you're here with her all night, she can't suspect it was you.”

  “No. This is my mistake and I gotta clean it up. And it's a long hit. It's gonna take a crack shot, sorry old man.”

  Harlow

  My mom might be losing her marbles. She was sitting across from me with only a coffee in front of her while I wolfed down a plate of scramble. I was ravenous after last night's adrenalin rush. And she can't stop rambling on about premonitions. Suddenly she's become a psychic.

  “Please just come home for tonight. I've got a very bad feeling that someone in my family's going to get seriously hurt today.”

  Her eyes were wide with terror. She really believed all this but the timing was too weird. She can't possibly have known about the hit ordered on her husband. But although I do believe some people have psychic abilities, I really didn't see my mother as one of them. No, Michael must have told her after he heard about it from Rowan. Did he tell her about the money too?

  “Mum, please stop pleading with me,” I said, politely as I could when I really wanted to tell her to shut up because she was driving me nutso. If she knew about the hit from Michael and he'd told her to come and get me, then -

  “I can't come back to your house tonight.”

  “It's your house too. Why? Do you have plans more important? Something with your brother?”

  I looked into her eyes and saw the mistrust there. She still favored her man over her daughter no matter what.