CRUZ: Billionaire Bonded Romance Suspense (Illicit Book 4)

by May, Savannah

  I had to have her again. Being interrupted like that was killing me. If she didn't come tonight I had no idea what I might do. She had to make an appearance, or I'd hunt her through every street in the city until I found her.

  Strike was right, the club was jammed to capacity. The aura of sensual expectation exploded as the second auction was just beginning and a stunning red head was led onto a raised dais in the center of the arena. She wore a long slinky gown. Her erect nipples announced that there was nothing between them and the clinging, draping fabric hanging on her curves. She was something of a cross between Jessica Rabbit and a Hollywood noir siren from the 1940s. The bidding for her was already furious.

  I checked out the crowd of men tendering huge sums for her pleasures- a couple of sports stars and a lot of mega-wealthy businessmen. Three stand-ins were also offering bids for members who needed to remain completely anonymous.

  Strange that there were no Hollywood types in tonight. Maybe with the recent opening of West Coast Illicit, they were all hanging out with each other for safety in numbers. The auctions out there were incredible because of the gorgeous women willing to do whatever it took for a break in the movie business.

  Even I had been stunned, visiting the coast for the opening, by the girls offering their incredible bodies to me in return for the opportunity to be auctioned off for one night. They knew securing a connection to a well-pleasured mogul was priceless. Many famous stars as well as Hollywood wives had met their match at Illicit.

  I didn't take any part in the casting, that was Rowan's job and she was brilliant at it, Since the beginning she'd sourced the sexiest, most adventurous women in the city. But neither her management nor her personal interest had stopped me from indulging my pleasure with those hot beautiful bodies, all of whom now seemed like farm-girls in comparison to Harlow.

  There she was again, always popping back into my mind. What the fuck was it with her that I could not stop thinking about her for more than a minute?

  The hammer had come down on the auction for the redhead and she was presented to her master for the night- a celebrated TV chef who was rumored to be gay. Maybe he was, maybe he hid his real sexual desires from the public who never got enough of delving into that shit.

  Whatever his inclination was none of my business. I had no interest in any of the members in that way. I only provided excellent service for all their needs. His Ms Rabbit was brought before him and her dress was stripped away from her by two of the handmaiden waitresses dressed top to toe in skintight black latex.

  Her statuesque figure was the stuff of dreams, the sort of breasts you devoured and buried yourself in as you rode hard into her all night long. It was all of zero interest to me.

  Would she come? I suddenly ran cold with the thought that Harlow might have been offended that I'd tried to fuck her in a washroom. Maybe she'd think I was a man tramp getting my dick into anything anywhere and running out right after. Just as I'd done tonight and just as I'd done the first time. But that was different. I hadn't intended to leave her like that.

  Sometimes life splits you from your most desired mate so as to separate you from the likelihood of screwing it up permanently. I could not make that same stupid mistake. I was a different guy now and wealthy beyond all need. I could take care of Harley as she deserved, in a way I could never have done six years ago. If she'd let me.

  Chapter THREE

  Harlow

  I was pretty nervous as I came up the steps to Illicit.

  Strike that, make it off the charts nervous and shaking right down to my core to prove it. The three huge bouncers on the door looked super intimidating and I was sure I wasn't well-dressed enough for the club, judging by all the limos with drivers parked discreetly in the side streets.

  Thank Heavens I'd changed out of jeans and a tee shirt into the only designerish outfit I owned- a backless top, barely more than a shaped piece of fabric stitched with dark red square pailettes that clung to my shoulders and around my waist with skinny red strings. Black pants that hugged my butt nicely and screaming high heels that gave me a bit more presence to stand up to the supermodels I was sure were going to be thronging the dance floor.

  Faking confidence I did not feel I strode up the stairs, sure the minders were going to look me up and down with disdain.

  “Miss Harlow, I presume?” the kinda cute bull terrier bouncer asked when I reached the door.

  “Oh. Yes, how-?”

  “I knew it. We've been expecting you.”

  He pulled the massive black door back on its silvered hinges and I went through into a circular lobby, solid black marble, hung all around with black floor to ceiling velvet drapes, tied back with massive silk ropes bearing crowns of black feathers.

  I had no coat to check, fortunately as the girl at the black marble desk was way too intimidating, dressed in a shiny skintight catsuit- was that rubber? Her heels had to be nine inches high.

  I continued on up the black marble staircase, curving in a circle around the towering reception. A massively oversized chandelier dangled from the high ceiling. At the top, the lush black carpet velvety beneath my heels almost toppled me where it opened out into a wide lounge. It was furnished with chic black and silver gray sofas holding beautiful people sipping champagne and tumblers of scotch.

  The instability and shoe malfunction came about when I turned to see what the loungers were looking at and came face to butt with a man in a black leather mask.

  He was striking a stunningly built blond woman across her naked ass cheeks with a silver-headed crop and I had to grasp the silver railing in shock. Humiliation seared through me as I saw myself through the eyes of the onlookers – a gawky unsophisticated girl unused to the real world, uptight even. After balancing and composing myself as best I could, my only concern was that I wasn't staggering like a pisshead as I went through the heavy drapes into the main room.

  OhmiDemiGod, what have I gotten myself into? Of all the things my anxiousness had been anticipating, a luxurious gangbang had never figured anywhere near the list. The Cole I knew would never have owned a club where people came to tie each other up and have sex in public.

  Right in front of me, a man pulled out from between the stretched open legs of a woman bent forward over a black metal bed-like contraption and another moved right on in. She convulsed from the surprise of the sudden assault then with a loud moan, instantly bore down on his jab with ravenous greed.

  My face was boiling with uncontrollable embarrassment. I was way way above my pay grade here and had no idea where to put my eyes, never mind the rest of my body. I had the sudden impetus to run right out of there, except I was desperate to see Cole.

  And they'd been expecting me so the cute pug at the door would definitely tell him that I'd been there. If I left now Cole would have no other way to find me, unless I gave the doorman my number before I ran off. Leaving now before I'd even seen Cole would look pathetic and naive.

  I raised my eyes and took another peek around the crowded scene. Oh my heavens, I could have been transported to Ancient Rome- bodies writhing lasciviously around each other, piles of flesh pressed together hungering for the extremes of pleasure.

  How on earth could Cole be running this pretense of love and emotion?

  I was maybe not that worldly but this seemed like selfish pleasure, using other bodies to satisfy raw lust. I had to get out of there. I didn't care what the thug at the door told Cole, I didn't want any part of degradation.

  But my core was tugging with need for more of Cole's touch. I could still feel his fingers plundering deep inside me, rotating his pads around a spot that made me shudder. I could feel his heavy palm around my breast as his mouth covered mine so sweetly delving into me with a taste of the real penetration to come.

  His aroma still lingered in my nostrils and I wanted him more than words could conjure. I tingled all over with the realization that I would do anything to have him again, even this, if this was what he wanted.

 
I had made my way to the edge of the room, where I could hide as much as was possible within the folds of voluminous lush drapes. If only I could twirl around inside one, as I had when I was a kid playing at hiding from Daddy. I'd wrapped the fabric around me and turned myself round and round into the soft darkness, imagining he couldn't see me.

  My heart tugged with sorrow, remembering how close I'd been with my father before he was killed right after my ninth birthday. My life had changed forever in an instant and I’d never really felt that kind of love again, apart from briefly with Cole.

  Coming back to the present I took a deep breath and allowed myself to gaze around, following the eyes of the others lounging around on four poster daybeds piled with pillows watching the scenarios while toying with each other. I relaxed a little, smiling inside with the thought that all they lacked was togas to be exactly like old Romans.

  Never in my imagination had I conjured such date night possibilities, but despite myself, I was drawn in fascination. A blindfold and gagged man had tipped his head back in ecstasy, his huge cock exploding forward, swaying in front of his stomach as a woman with enormous naked breasts beat him pitilessly across the buttocks with a silver-headed whip of three leather lashes.

  How could that possibly be enjoyable? Did he want to feel that pain and did she enjoy giving it to him? Would Cole want to hit me like or ask that I whip him? Was that why he brought me here? I did not see how I could do either, I really wasn't up to it.

  The bodies hanging from the chains fixed into the ceiling I found most compelling, some naked, some buckled into leather belt combinations that prevented them indulging in the very thing they'd come here to enjoy. I really didn't understand any of it. They seemed to have been placed there as human ornaments.

  Any patron moving past one of the blindfold hanging figures could pinch a nipple, or tug on the silver clamp pinching it tight. Other times a person stopped a while to fondle the bulging lips or erect cock of the repressed soul who could neither see their lover nor respond. Sometimes, they even plunged a member into the gaping sex of the restrained person before moving on. Who would choose to be used like that?

  Although I found it appalling, I noticed that my body was enthralled. My pussy pulled and ached as I watched a passing woman, beautiful and blond, topless but with a corset contraption around her waist with straps running between her thighs and buckled at the ass, so that her vulva was pressed forward between the belts like cleavage.

  She came up to a stunningly built dark-skinned torso, licked the palm of her hand and rolled it over the top of the enormous erect and quivering cock before lifting one leg and impaling her pussy onto it.

  I gasped and felt my own hidden sex tremble at the audacious power of taking a man, a stranger I imagine, for nothing but my own pleasure while a crowd looked on. It was shocking to me and even so, I was excited. My bare nipples were sore against the scratchy fabric of my expensive sequined top.

  “Good evening. Is it your first time?” A man had slipped in to stand close beside me while I was transfixed.

  “I, er, yes, it's my first time here,” I stumbled over the words, trying not to look the man in the face and pulling away from his nude body.

  “I meant are you a virgin?” he said, stroking the inside of my arm so the backs of his fingers grazed the side of my breast.

  “What? No, actually, I'm not. Are you?” I snapped. Freaking nerve of some people.

  “That's too bad,” he said. “I apologize for bothering you, I'm not usually wrong.”

  He moved away and I stared after his taut round butt cheeks with a silver metal object sticking out his crack. Oh heavens, I realized he must have some implement shoved in his ass.

  Again the thought that I should go. This place was not me at all. I was fine with people doing whatever they wanted in private but really, I had no clue what on earth my place was in all this, or what Cole was up to bringing me here. The fact that the man assumed I was a virgin told me I had no business staying here.

  Ohmicotton fucking socks. My hands flew to my mouth as my gaze connected with the man on his knees closest to me and I automatically recognized him as the very familiar face of a long time six o'clock news reader.

  His face had been buried in the stretched open pussy of a woman lying on her back, completely naked and virtually lying across my feet while another man fucked him in the ass. His rhythm running back and forth along her slit had matched the powerful thrusts of the gorgeous big black man buried in his crack.

  As he shuddered and removed his massive shaft, the man lifted his head out of the woman's open vulva to sit on his haunches. His face still slick and glistening with her juices. She continued to pleasure her bulging clit with her own fingers, until the black guy, who had somehow managed to maintain his huge erection, flipped her over and shoved his dick into her up to the mound. She moaned loud from the severe stretching then immediately ground her pussy down onto his long blade, burying it deeper inside her cunt.

  My curiosity was peaking as I watched the intense pleasure all around me. Despite my preconceptions, far from being used and abused, all the participants appeared to be in full control of their own desires and freely indulging them. It was rather liberating just watching such wanton abandonment of all physical inhibitions. I could not stop from wondering what it might feel like to indulge in some of those passions.

  “So this is where you sneak off to at night,” the growl from the side of me was a familiar and detested voice.

  I spun around to see my father staring at me with a look of pure disgust. Why I call him Father is a total mystery. Somehow my mother managed to coerce me into using that name rather than Michael, which she said was too familiar for my step-father.

  I wished she would have asked him to be less familiar with me, as on a number of occasions he had leered at my chest when we passed in the hall and once he'd whispered, “If I were ten years younger you'd be in trouble.”

  I could not wait to get a proper job and my own apartment and get out of there. My own home had become an uncomfortable environment to be in. Every night I could I stayed with Lily, telling my parents the subway was not safe. But it was only possible when her roommate was out of town, otherwise they had an agreement between them of no guests.

  They'd subdivided the one bedroom of the tiny city apartment into two with a screen. Lily apologized for the cramped quarters but to me it seemed like paradise. I'd give anything to get that first place of my own, complete with independence and no one telling me what to do, what to wear, and demanding when would I be back.

  “I knew I had you figured for a secret little slut, my senses never let me down,” Michael snarled at me.

  “This is my first time here,” I stuttered, not that I owed him any explanation. He wasn't my real father and had only been married to my mother just over a year ago. “I came to meet someone.”

  “I bet you did you fucking little tramp. Is this how you like it? Rough and ready?”

  “No. I had no idea what went on here.” Why was I trying to explain myself when I should have been standing up to him and telling him not to speak to me in that filthy disrespectful way?

  More to the point what was he doing here? I had no doubt my straight-laced mother wasn't here with him and would not be happy to discover he frequented a place like this.

  “Does Mom know-?”

  “I've seen how you look at me,” Michael interrupted. “Does your mother know what a whore you were around her boyfriends?”

  He reached out and squeezed my breast in his hand, groping it hard like a baseball. I was speechless with shock and, pleased with my outrage, he yanked the loosely draping sequin top up over my bare breasts so I was topless in front of an unwitting audience who no doubt figured my step-father and I were indulging our fantasies.

  I opened my mouth to tell him to get off me as he clamped a heavy palm over my lips and nose so it was almost impossible to breathe. His other hand mounded one tit then the other, squashing an
d pushing them around like dough. His hot breath was ragged in my ear as he continued to tell me what a gorgeous slut whore I was.

  “Beautiful tits. I've wanted to see them hanging naked for as long as you've been desperate to show me them.”

  He pulled and tweaked on the nipples painfully.

  “You want to get fucked in the ass, baby girl? Tell me how you want it and I'll give it to you good.”

  The harder I tried to fight him off me, the more he became inflamed, his breath coming faster. His thick thigh was between my legs and I felt the huge mound of his cock pressed into my hip, holding me down and preventing me from kicking out at him.

  The patrons looked on at our little game, eager for the forced rape fantasy to get to its good part. My father figure was loving every moment, the more I fought the more he pinioned me and squeezed my sore breasts.

  My scream was stifled under his palm when Michael bent down and suckled my nipple ferociously into his hot mouth while his hand slid down my stomach and groped into the groove between my legs. He forced his way between my compressed inner thighs, into the crevasse.

  My heart pounded wildly and painfully as I struggled for air and bucked uselessly under the weight of his hold. His hand fumbled to the button at the waistband and I knew my mother's husband was going to take me, right in front of a crowd of indolent sexual players.

  Hard as I cried out with my eyes, none of them would have any idea that this was real sexual abuse rather than role-playing. They no doubt assumed I was getting off on it as much as my step-father. In an instant I'd be a whore for real, just as he kept accusing me. He was wrenching the zip of my pants down and I closed my eyes tight, tugging for air in my burning lungs.

  “What the fuck is going on here?” A voice of malevolent gravel beside me as my father was jacked off my sore breast.