His Devil's Rage

by Linzi Basset

  “You should know better than to defy me openly, my pet. Or did you forget your lesson the first time you were here?”

  Bruce was pleasantly surprised as her eyes flared with a mixture of arousal and anticipation. The Dom inside him rose to power at the realization that she was deliberately taunting him. He reached inside his pocket and retrieved the clover nipple clamps he’d picked out earlier.

  “Very well. Maybe these will goad you to answer appropriately when I ask you a question.”

  Morgan immediately attempted a backward step. His large hand curled around her waist, keeping her in place. A dark look planted her feet on the spot. She cast a wary glance at the two silver clamps in the palm of his hand.

  “I … remember that being naked is a hard limit for me,” she puffed out quickly. Her breath hissed from her lips as he brushed his palms over her nipples, back and forth until they beaded like hard little stones.

  “I don’t need you to be naked, my pet. All I need is these beauties to perk up a little. Just like that.” He pinched one nipple behind the areola. “Deep breath, little one, these have quite a bite,” he quipped as he released the tongs around the tight nub.

  “Ow! Shit, it hurts,” she wailed.

  “Breathe through the pain, sub. Deep breath, in and out, come on, one more. There … now the other one.”

  “Shit, shit, shit,” she cried and trotted around on the spot, berating herself soundly for her brattiness. She glanced at her breasts, tempted to yank off the clamps but knew that would end in a disaster. The two clamps were connected with a very short chain that was pulled taught between her ample breasts.

  Bruce soaked in every movement of her long legs, the way her lips formed around the chant and finally, the way her breasts grew taut with the added stimulant of pain. His cock twitched pleasantly at the thought of what lay ahead.

  “I’m waiting, squirt,” he warned in a dark voice.

  “Delilah,” she all but spat at him. “Oh gaawd,” she moaned and cupped her breasts, desperate to alleviate the throbbing pain in her abused nipples that increased as a result from her swaying body.

  “Hmm, I like it. Under the circumstances, quite fitting too,” he said softly, his gaze brooding.

  Morgan started, realizing she hadn’t fooled him. He knew she was hiding something. It was only a matter of time before he wrung the entire sordid tale from her.

  “This hurts the bejesus out of me, Master Goliath,” she complained in a small voice.

  “An appropriate reward for your defiance, Delilah, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “As a matter of fact, I don’t. A slap on the ass would’ve been … no!” she shrieked and jumped out of reach when he aimed his huge paw at her behind, only to groan painfully as the pressure around her nipples increased once again. “What the devil are these things?”

  “They’re Japanese clover clamps. They tighten every time the chain is pulled taut.” His grin was evil. “I shortened it, so any quick movement that creates a bobbing of your tits would have the same effect.”

  “How inventive of you,” she ground out through clenched teeth.

  “Shall we?”

  He didn’t wait to see if she followed but the swear words that floated from behind him as he ascended the stairs, told him she was on his heels. He glanced over his shoulder as he reached the landing and bit back his mirth. Morgan’s face was pinched in a rebellious look as she gingerly walked down the stairs, her hands cupping her breasts in an effort to keep the chain from tightening.

  “How are you supposed to walk in the club, Delilah?”

  Her head snapped up, the look she bestowed on him could easily slice him in two. She dared to defy him for a couple of seconds. When his eyes darkened, she released her breasts and clasped them behind her back.

  “Fucking hell,” she wheezed as the short chain pulled on the clamps. “How long are you going to make me wear these torture tools?”

  He made a big show of looking at his watch. Her annoyance and pain were momentarily forgotten as she gawked at his hand, caught in a helpless moment of hand porn.

  Damn, it’s so unfair! Even his huge paws are sexy as hell.

  “Another five minutes should be enough for your show of defiance.” His eyes glimmered as he looked at her pinched nipples. “Until later, when we’re alone in the Devil’s Den.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t wait to see you naked with your tits clamped.” His eyes strolled lazily over her toned stomach to where the leather hot pants strained between her legs. “Connected with a chain to another on your clit.”

  His deep chuckle floated toward her as he walked away, amidst her furious, “Over my dead body.”

  “Don’t make me come and fetch you, Delilah,” he warned over his shoulder when she continued to dally.

  Morgan had to shuffle to catch up with his long strides. She reached him at the door leading into the dungeon entrance.

  “What’s CM duty,” she asked surly, wincing as she followed him down the stairs.

  “Club Monitor. We ensure people follow the correct BDSM protocol, assist with distressed subs, and guide Doms who might need some assistance with a scene.”

  Morgan looked around the vast room they just entered. The sound of whips, chains, soft cries and screams filled her ears. She stared around wide eyed.

  Bruce found her astonishment endearing, especially as nothing she witnessed seemed to scare her. Rather, she appeared captivated and intrigued.

  “This is the heart of Club Devil’s Cove, Delilah. Can you smell the sultry aroma of excitement, lust, and sex in the air?”

  Morgan did and the effect it had on her was there in the slight darkening hue on her cheeks.

  “Is it within your power to stop a scene?” she asked with her eyes trained on a couple in the corner. A naked woman was lying on her back on what appeared to be an examination bed. Her legs were spread wide, her knees hooked over side bars and her ankles cuffed in place. The Dom was using a crop on her. Morgan winced as she noticed where he landed the strikes. Right across her spread open pussy. Even over the distance she could see the red streaks covering her thighs. Her labia were darkened and puffed. Surprisingly, amid her painful screams, the sub thrashed against the bindings, canting her hips upward in an invitation for more.

  “If we believe the sub is in distress or the Dom ignores the obvious signs or safe word, then yes.”

  “What happens then?” Morgan was mortified to feel her nipples tightening, sending a fresh flash of pain to her brain, only this time, it was accompanied by warmth flooding her pussy as she watched the Dom step closer to brush his fingers over the sub’s labia, toggling her clit until she jerked frantically against his hand.

  “Depending on the transgression, a Dom might be suspended or even banned from the club.”

  Bruce kept a keen eye on Morgan’s reaction to each scene her eyes touched on. He made mental notes of every nuance that crossed her face as her gaze darted from one scene to the other.

  “Time for these to come off.” He pinched her chin and tilted back her head. “I have to warn you, little one, it’s going to hurt more coming off.”

  “Oh lord,” she wailed as she caught his wrists and held on for dear life. “Why?”

  “It’s the rush of the repressed blood flooding back into the vessels. Remember, Delilah, breathe through the pain. Deep breath, my pet.”

  “Fuucckk,” Morgan hissed as he released the first clamp.

  Bruce’s cock stirred to life as he watched the pain flash over her face, and her mouth pulled in a grimace. The beast inside him purred. He didn’t bother to deny that he had deliberately removed the clamp without making an effort to alleviate her pain by pinching her breast behind it and gradually releasing it.

  His large hand cupped her breast, covering it completely as he squeezed and rubbed gently. His ardor rose with each puff and gasp of breath as Morgan desperately tried to follow his instruction, but the tantalizing caress was too
erotic to ignore. He was elated to notice her irises flare wide, the sign he’d been waiting for. His little spitfire was aroused by a little pain.

  “One more.”

  Her nails dug into his wrists and this time a raw cry exploded from her lips. His hand immediately covered her breast to knead, squeeze and pinch the already sensitive nubs until she went on her toes.

  “Please,” she whispered. He pinched harder. Her neck arched as she leaned into his hands, helpless in the throes of lust that scorched from her painful nipples through her veins to settle in a heavy throb of her loins.

  “I love nipple torture, Delilah. I’m delighted to see how you take to a little pain.” He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, his voice sounding dark and filled with a wicked promise. “I can’t wait to watch you curl and twitch in an explosive climax from nothing more than nipple play.”

  Morgan didn’t bother to deny his claim. She was on the verge of an orgasm and if he continued pinching her nipples, he wouldn’t have to wait too long.

  A loud scream offered her some respite. Bruce looked around to find the source. With a lopsided grin that toggled at her heart, he winked at her. “We’ll continue this in the Devil’s Den later. For now, duty calls.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “You better control that bitch sister of yours. I want Bruce Rickett dead. He’s the one man who knows me better than even Lance. He’d know what kind of moves I’d make before I think of them.”

  “Calm down, Zee. If there’s one thing I know it’s that Morgan is shit scared of us. I made sure she knows I’m here. It’s only a matter of time before I tighten the noose,” said Will Lovett, known as Wade Moore, the persona they had created for him as the club manager of Club Devil’s Cove. In The Sixth Order, he was known as Gun Proctor. He glanced around surreptitiously as he moved to a quiet corner of the club. If any of the Senior Masters overheard the phone conversation, his days were numbered.

  “Don’t you fucking get it? Time is the one thing we don’t have.” Reece was still reeling that Rhone and his team had found out about the Sauna House and got there so quickly. He shuddered at the memory of Jaden with half his face shattered and torn open, lying in a pool of blood. He was still struggling to comprehend how Jack had managed to break the steel hook from the wall.

  His emotions were conflicted. On one hand, he felt a fierce sadness at the loss of the man who had been his best friend since childhood but on the other, he was furious. If Jaden hadn’t been consumed with hatred and an unnatural desire for vengeance, none of this would have happened. Now, everything was falling apart.

  “We need to recoup and fast. I refuse to lose everything I worked so hard for.”

  “Did Rhone capture Jaden? I haven’t heard from him since you took Jack to the Sauna House.” A pregnant silence followed. “Reece?”

  “Jaden is dead. Or at least I think he is.”

  “What do you mean you think?”

  “He wouldn’t listen, even after I told him we had to leave. I went to warn him that Rhone had arrived. When the door opened, he was on the floor, a gaping wound in his face, lying in a pool of blood.”

  “And you just left him there?”

  “I had no choice. Jack had yanked the chains loose.” Reece didn’t bother to hide the bitterness in his voice. “Jaden had it coming through his own neglect. If not for that, Jack would never have found out who we are.”

  “What the fuck do you mean? They know who we are?” Wade’s voice rose. He looked around warily, suddenly not as confident.

  “Not you … at least, I don’t think so.”

  “What are we going to do?” Wade lowered his voice as a couple walked past.

  “We’re going to show those bastards that we’re like a wounded tiger. Fierce, unstoppable, and vicious. They think they’ve crippled The Sixth Order but they have no fucking idea just what they’re up against.” His voice lowered. “It’s time to play my trump card.”

  “Which is?”

  “In due time, but not before Bruce Rickett has been taken care of. Without him in the team, we stand a better chance.”

  “I don’t understand. I thought you were after Rhone’s blood.”

  “Jesus, not you too,” Reece said in a clipped tone. “I’m not Jaden who harbored hatred for a supposed lost love. I want the whole fucking lot of them gone. They’ve been a thorn in my side since we were kids. Always the clever ones, the strong ones, the ones who got the medals and made me feel inferior. If not for them, Lance and I would still have been inseparable. All of them interfered, forced a wedge between us. But I’m not complaining anymore. I’ve come into my own. I have contacts and money unsurpassed. It’s time to prove to all those fuckers who I really am. A man who has the power to succeed and they will not stand in my way.” He heaved in a deep breath. “Make sure Morgan knows that either she does as I command, or I will skin her alive and feed it to the dogs to eat while she watches. If she believes for one moment she paid her dues to me that year she was a sex slave, she’s mistaken.”

  “I’ve got this, Reece. That little slut is about to realize her leash is a lot shorter than before.”

  “Don’t be cocky, Will. Bruce Rickett isn’t a fool and fiercely protective of his women, even more so than any of the other bastards.”

  “Why him? How is it that he knows you so well?”

  “Bruce has an uncanny ability to read minds. Once he finds that one weakness in a man’s soul, there’s no escape. He found mine years ago. I’ve always looked over my shoulder, waiting for him to put two and two together and pounce on us. If he hadn’t moved to Washington DC after he came back from Iraq, he would’ve found us out long ago, he’s that good. I’ve long felt he had a suspicion about us. Whenever we were around him, he always watched me, just waiting for me to slip up. Believe me, Will, if we want to survive this, Bruce has to die—not in a couple of days—now.”

  “I’d like to see Wade’s background check file,” Bruce said with his eyes on Morgan’s delectable little tush swaying seductively as she walked away with Samantha.

  Rhone’s gaze swung to him in surprise, his own expression turned shuttered. “I know you’ve always had reservations about him. Why now? Did something happen?”

  “He had an effect on Morgan, or rather, his voice did.” He briefly explained the scene in the office earlier. “She was scared.” Bruce scanned the Entertainment Room. “Where is he? Isn’t he supposed to be manning the bar tonight?”

  Rhone’s gaze also did a thorough search but they couldn’t detect Wade Moore anywhere in the milling crowd.

  “Yes, he is. I saw him stand to one side earlier. He was on a call. I have to admit, he seemed a little cagey.”

  Bruce narrowed his eyes on Rhone. The tightening of his jaw was slight but Bruce knew him too well not to notice.

  “You know something.” He stepped in front of Rhone, his gaze pinned him in place. “Morgan’s life is in danger, mate. You better start talking.”

  Rhone straightened his shoulders and looked around. “Let’s talk on the outside patio. There’s too many ears around here.”

  Bruce spun around and strode with a long-legged gait toward the arch leading outside. He leaned his shoulders against a stone pillar, staring out toward the rippling water of the Potomac in the distance, visible only with the assistance of the reflection of the bright nighttime lights.

  “You remember Gun?”

  “The assumed third leader of The Sixth Order. The one Emily Sanchez, the director of the soup kitchen we raided told us about?”

  “Yes.” Rhone stared at the maze where lanterns broke through the dark night to light the way to the couples who chose the outside for their scenes. “I made her call him at the usual time for her report back session.”

  Bruce’s darkened eyes swung to look at him. “You recognized his voice.”

  He nodded. “It was Wade Moore.”

  “The fucking bastard. He must be the one who phoned Morgan with the instruction to kill me. He
knew she was here. Coming to my office to remind me of CM duty was deliberate. He wanted her to know.”

  “And scare her.”

  “He succeeded. She’s been edgy ever since, keeps glancing over her shoulder, and stayed glued to my side.” Bruce slammed a fist against the pillar. “How the fuck did Max miss it when he did his background check?”

  “You know how clever they’ve been so far, Bruce. Reece and Jaden have managed to stay below the radar for years. If Jaden hadn’t made one mistake, we might never have known it was them. I asked Max and Richard to dig deeper and see what they can uncover about Wade. Like the other two, I have no doubt that everything we know about him is a lie.”

  “We have to be on alert 24/7, mate. A wounded animal is dangerous. Reece Talbot has always had a mean streak. He’s hidden it well but underneath that suave and slick appearance, lurks a monster. I realized it when we returned from Iraq.” Bruce frowned. “Jacklyn’s aunt contacted me a year ago when her mother passed away, concerned that they couldn’t find her. I’ve been looking for her ever since but those I spoke to, haven’t seen or heard from her for over four years.”

  “Jesus, Bruce. Don’t tell me you think Reece killed her?”

  “You didn’t see his expression when Jacklyn snubbed him and turned to me for consolation when she got the news of her father’s death after Iraq. Pure hatred. It oozed from every pore in his body.” He shrugged. “Yes, Rhone. That kind of festering hate can’t be contained. A man like him wouldn’t stop until he’d purged the poison from his blood. In his case, it was Jacklyn.”

  “And now he’s after you and me because he believes we took her from him.”

  Bruce shook his head, his expression pensive. “No, I don’t believe that’s it. Reece is competitive, always has been and hated that you gave him a hand to make something of himself. That’s why he turned to crime. It was an easy way to make a name for himself. To him, it’s now all about power and his desire for more. We, all of us and Precision Secure, are in his way. He’s out to clear his path to become the dominator of crime in the U.S.”