His Devil's Desire (Club Devil's Cove Book 1)

by Linzi Basset

  “I see you’re wearing a very nice plug, Ace. You don’t seem to be doing too well. Do you think you’ll pass this one?” He teased, eyeing her hungrily and then set to work. His lips closed around her clit and he sucked, licked and nibbled frenziedly for long minutes, until Samantha cried out and begged him to stop. She was on the verge of a climax that had been building since the first swipe of his tongue over her clitoris.

  “Please, Sir! I’m sure the ten minutes are up,” she wailed and the watching audience laughed appreciatively. Her hips did a wild tango against his face as he pushed his tongue deep into her pussy and sucked her honeyed juices.

  “Two more minutes, Ace. Let’s see if you can hold out,” his voice vibrated against her clit. Her low scream echoed into the air as he slowly twirled the butt plug inside her ass.

  “Fuuucck me!” She wailed and curled her fingers in the hair at his nape to keep him in place while she canted her hips, guiding his mouth where she needed it.

  He growled at her assertiveness but she was too far gone to pay his warning any heed. As a punishment, his teeth clamped around the throbbing nub and bit into it, shaking his head to and fro.

  Her scream echoed as clear liquid streamed from her pussy to trickle down the side of the boulder, with a climax that threatened to splinter her in two.

  Dom Wade stepped back reluctantly but with a pleased grin. “Beautiful, Ace, however, that means you must wear another jewel to decorate your luscious body. No, keep your legs spread,” he ordered and reached inside his pocket.

  “NO! Fuck no. Not with the climax I’ve just had. Please, sir. I’m too sensitive . . . ooohh, geeezuz!” she wailed as he released the tongs of the clit clamp around her swollen clitoris. He attached a heavy ruby jewel to it and released it. She cried out at the added pressure on her already too sentient nub.

  The spectators chittered in laugher at her response. She was hard pressed not to snap at them, slightly embarrassed that her failure had been witnessed.

  At least there were none around to see my earlier punishment. One embarrassment for the day is enough.

  She hoped there wouldn’t be any waiting with Rhone.

  Wade tied a green band around her wrist. “Good girl. You got all three clues correct. So, here you are, Ace. The final clue to where your prize is waiting for you. That is, if your jewels don’t slow you down and someone else beats you to him.”

  He lowered her gently from the boulder and held onto her until she found her balance. A whimper escaped her lips when the weight on the clit clamp swung back and forth, setting another wave of arousal to surge through her veins.

  She took the envelope from him and searched the map for the spot where she’d find Rhone. It was becoming more and more difficult to concentrate with the sensations swirling inside her lower body. She supposed the entire treasure hunt was designed to achieve the said results.

  “Good luck, Ace. Two of your competitors have gotten their clues wrong, but the other two are on track. I’d hurry, if I were you.” He was tracking other contestants too.

  His advice spurred her to head in Rhone’s direction.

  She cursed and moaned as she ran. Her loins throbbed with building pressure. Her clitoris complained with every swing of the weighted jewel. In fact, her body had turned into a mass of pulsing, needy lust when she reached a Y-forked pathway.

  “Which way, Samantha? Left, or right?” she mumbled, trying to remember in which direction she was headed. She looked up to the dark sky which offered no solution. She closed her eyes and back-tracked the route from Dom Wade. “Left. I have to go left.” She started walking but when she heard a wheezing sound from another woman in an adjacent lane, heading in the same direction, she ran.

  “You don’t want to disappoint me, do you?” His words flashed in her mind as she sped up. She did her best to ignore her throbbing clit.

  You’re nearly there, Samantha. You can do this. Mind over matter. Think of the pleasure he’s going to give you. Forget about the pain and need. Pleasure. That’s it. Think about the pleasure.

  She was rounding the corner of the hedge to where Rhone was, when a brunette charged out of another lane. The race to get to him was brutal. Samantha could feel her legs wobble as she reached him seconds ahead of her. Her fingers wouldn’t cooperate when she tried to tie the band around his wrist. His detached look, when their eyes met, shook her equilibrium and she suddenly battled to breathe.

  Get a grip, Ace! Tie the fucking band.

  The knot finally slipped in place. She stepped back and leaned forward with her hands on her knees, wheezing.

  “That was a tight call. And here’s another one,” Rhone said, in what sounded like, a forced chuckle, when another sub arrived. She cursed when she noticed the other two.

  “So, who won?” The last arrival asked, out of breath.

  “She did,” the brunette responded. “By a hair’s breadth. I’m kicking myself for loitering away a few seconds with my final clue,” she muttered under her breath.

  “Isn’t there a second and third prize, Master Razor?” The redhead asked. She rubbed her naked breasts against his arm.

  “Yes.” The brunette flashed a defiant glance at Samantha. “We all tried our best to get here and from the looks of it, we’re the only ones who got all the clues correct. Don’t you think it’s only fair that we receive some reward for our efforts, Master Razor?”

  “Since you put it that way, why not? But only once we’re back in the club. For now, I need to hand the winner her prize. Why don’t the two of you find your way back in the meantime?”

  They were only too happy with his response to protest and walked away, chattering among themselves.

  “Please, Rhone. Take it off,” Samantha pleaded, gesturing toward the clit clamp.

  His eyes roamed over her. “Turn around.”

  She didn’t think twice and pivoted on her heel.

  “I see you failed on two of your clues. Not good but then again, so did the other two.”

  Samantha faced him, wearily watching him walk closer. Something was wrong. He looked different and her earlier assessment that he seemed detached was spot on when their eyes met.

  “Rhone—”

  “Master Razor, Ace. When we’re at a club, we use our club names. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Master Razor.”

  He toggled the weight hanging from her clit. She bit on her lip to keep from crying out.

  “It’s going to hurt,” he said. There was darkness in his tone and the glimmer in his eyes told her that he wasn’t going to make the removal of the clamp any easier on her. He wanted her to hurt.

  “I know,” she said as he walked around her to press against her back. Then her scream echoed as, without further warning, he deftly removed the clamp. Her knees buckled and she clung to his arms, the back of her head pressed against his chest. “Fuck, that hurts,” she wailed as the blood flow returned to the abused nerve vessels.

  Her head snapped up when she heard the click of a knife opening. It was a Gerber Swagger folding knife with a serrated blade, similar to the one she used to carry. He held it lightly in his hand; his expression closed with a shaded look as he spun her back around.

  “I don’t have the patience to undo Slade’s knots, so keep still. I would hate to cut your satiny skin.”

  Samantha held her breath when he pulled the rope away from her skin and pressed the blunt edge against her back. With two quick slices, the rope harness fell away from her chest.

  Her gasps turned to tortured moans as the tight ropes fell apart and blood filled her veins. This time, Rhone’s arms circled her waist to gently massage her breasts until the pain subsided.

  Rhone shut his mind against her closeness; the feel of her luxurious skin beneath his palms. He wanted nothing more than to watch her suffer. The slight burn at the back of his arm reminded him why. His jaw turned rigid.

  It was a sign of her cunning and deceitfulness, like those of a lupine pack of wolves. He was
livid that he had been wrong in his summation of her as a person. His instincts were rarely wrong. Until now.

  Rhone could feel her trembling against him. No doubt she was highly aroused. He smirked. He loosened his hold on her breasts and brushed his palms with a feathered caress over her nipples.

  Her breathing escalated.

  He continued the teasing slide over her skin until her nipples stood hard and proud against his hand. He rolled the tight nubs between his fingers; softly at first, and then harder.

  “Ooh,” she groaned. Her head fell back against his shoulder. She arched her back, pushing her breasts harder into his touch, silently begging for more.

  “I assume you wish to claim your prize?”

  His growl in her ear sounded ominous. It reminded Samantha that something wasn’t kosher. The brush of his lips low on her neck disintegrated all doubts from her mind. She’d been wanting him for days and soaked up his closeness, his seductive caresses. She craved his hardness inside her.

  “Yes, Master Razor. I’d like that,” she whimpered as he bit into her shoulder muscle. His hand trailed over her flat stomach; his aim, her throbbing clit.

  She gasped when he brushed his fingers over it. It was extremely sensitive, something the compelling Dom picked up on immediately.

  “Hm, from your reaction, one part of the prize will have to wait. This little nub won’t be able to withstand what I intend to do with it.”

  She stiffened at the sudden shift in his demeanor; the coldness in his voice that caused a shiver to trail down her spine. This was not the same Rhone who had made love to her before. This man scared her. For once, she was glad she couldn’t look into his eyes. She knew she wasn’t ready for what she would find.

  “Please, I need . . . I have to—”

  “Yeah, I suppose you do, but this time, sub, you will take what I give you and let me make this very clear, Samantha, you’re gonna get a rough, hard fuck. Just that. Nothing more. I will plough into your tight pussy until I’ve had my fill. This will be all for me and I don’t care whether you come or not. Do I make myself clear?”

  “What is—”

  Crack! Crack!

  “Oow!” She screamed as he slapped her nipples—hard. “For fuck sake! Rhone what—”

  Crack! Crack!

  “Fuuck!” Her gasp was barely audible as the slaps caused her knees to buckle.

  “You’ve been a sub long enough to know better, Ace.”

  Samantha battled to concentrate, but the warning in his voice penetrated her pain filled mind.

  “I’m sorry, Master Razor. I understand . . . no, actually, I don’t,” she backtracked but took precaution by folding her arms over her chest. Her nipples throbbed painfully from the hard slaps.

  “Drop your arms,” he growled in her ear. The warning in his tone was clear.

  Her arms lowered without hesitation. She swallowed but kept mum.

  “You had me fooled, Samantha,” he continued. He grabbed her nape and pushed her forward. “Grab your ankles,” he ordered.

  Again, the submissive in her blindly obeyed his dark order. She bit her lip when he removed the butt plug from her ass. Not gently or carefully. He just pulled it out with one hard yank.

  “Geezus Master Razor! What the fuck is going on?” Samantha shrieked in a thin voice. Her ass burned in protest at the rough handling.

  “Get up and lie down on the table; hips and legs over the edge. No, Samantha, on your stomach. I want to watch how my cock drills into your succulent pussy.”

  Samantha tried to reason with him but he’d had enough. Rhone struggled to hold on to his control. And it floored him that he was so close to losing it. He, the master of self-control, was close to losing it. Now, with this woman, he was on the verge of giving in to emotions that were foreign to him.

  He pushed her down on the hard, wrought iron table; his hand on her neck kept her in place. He kicked her legs wide apart.

  “Rhone . . . Master Razor, please—”

  His growl was primitive and malicious. The aggression that spiraled through him with cyclonic velocity pushed him close to the edge, to decimate her resistance and fuck her brains out.

  “Shut up, sub. There’s only one word that will stop me. Unless you wish to use that, I don’t want to hear another peep out of you. Is that clear?”

  The sound of his zipper opening was like a trumpet blaring in her ears. Samantha could easily get out from his grasp—if she wanted to. She was trained in Krav Maga, but then, so was Rhone, according to the material Bulldog had supplied, albeit on a much higher level than her. He would flatten her within seconds. Instinct kept her from fighting him. Something had happened to trigger the beast inside him. And he was coming at her. He looked like a ferocious cage fighter with his silk tie knotted around his arm. She’d lost his trust. It was there in his every move, touch and vibration of his voice. He wanted her to fight him. He wanted to hurt her and break her. It was there in the contained fury she detected just under the surface and the way his fingers tightened on her hip when he tilted her up to press his large, swollen knob against her slit.

  “Answer me, sub,” he snapped.

  “Yes, Master Razor, it’s clear.”

  Her scream echoed over the hedges when he slammed into her—to the hilt, unconcerned that he might be hurting her in the process.

  “Do you have what it takes, sub? Are you strong enough to give me what I want? Hm? Yes, Ace, this is the real me. The raging beast the subs love between their legs.”

  He leaned over her back. His clipped tone hurt her.

  “Remember the previous times, Ace, because you’ll never have that with me again. This is all you’ll get from me from this point forth; your fuck-holes to gorge on; wherever I want, whenever I want.”

  The more he talked, the more the desire to hear her beg and plead for mercy clawed at him. He grabbed and yanked on her hair as he powered his thick cock into her.

  The noise of slapping flesh resonated around them as he pillaged her and pushed her close to the edge. Her clit bumped against the cold, rough table with every thrust and catapulted her to a level of euphoria, she’d never before experienced.

  “Oh fuck-fuck-fuck,” she cried as a climax rippled through her and threatened to yank her deep into an abyss.

  Rhone laughed and increased his efforts, his thrusts now aided by the slickness of her creamy release.

  “You have such a hot fucking pussy,” he rumbled. His grip on her hair tightened. “How many others have labored for your favors in here, I wonder?”

  Rhone growled. The thought of other cocks having her, turned on and bothered him, in equal measure. He ground his hips against her buttocks and pounded in and out with long strokes. The feeling of sliding against her silky walls caused the veins in his cock to swell with blood, making him harder.

  It was savage, the way he consumed her.

  Samantha was lost, deluged in waves of euphoria that left her defenseless and vulnerable. Her surrender was implicit. It didn’t matter that he was rough or how much his words hurt. She was helpless against the intoxicating current that struck in a convergence of physical and emotional counterparts. It ripped away her equilibrium and yanked her under a soaring rogue wave—first lifting her high, only to crush her beneath its force.

  She struggled to breathe as his wild possession compelled one climax after the other. And he exulted in every one of them.

  “That’s it, my hot pussy, show me how much you want my cock. You can’t deny me, sub, no matter how much you try to.”

  Rhone’s movements became raw and violent. He roared, flayed bare as his anger consumed him. Each thrust lifted her feet off the ground; her cries giving him morbid pleasure. He yanked on her hair, forcing her neck in a graceful but uncomfortable arc.

  “Now, Samantha, feel my heat and weep, for this will be the last time I come inside your pussy.”

  His words registered inside her mind but they didn’t compute. Not when she was crying and screaming
at her body to stop giving him what he wanted, but it was fruitless as she was left bare and ragged by another climax that left her weak and shuddering in his hands.

  He sped up, his hips jerked wildly as he ejaculated inside her, pumping and convulsing, for what felt like ages, with quick stabs until he emptied himself completely.

  Rhone faced away from her, zipping himself up when she finally managed to gather enough strength to lift off the table. She was lost and confused. His words finally came back to her.

  “What happened to you, Rhone? From the moment you left me at the beginning of the hunt, to now? What changed?”

  Her eyes roamed his tight body, a sign of the tension still weaving its way through him. Her gasp was barely audible.

  “You’re bleeding!” She reached him and inspected the blood seeping from under the tie around his bicep.

  He spun around so fast, he nearly knocked her over. The fury in his gaze was scorching.

  “It seems you’re a little rusty, Ace. I have to say, I’m a little disappointed. I expected more from the most feared sniper I’ve heard so much about.”

  She stared at him; flabbergasted. “What are you talking about?” She winced when suddenly she recalled what Bulldog had said about a mishap.

  “Come now, Ace. Do you really think I’m that gullible? Next time, remember my background and aim where I’m going to be when the bullet reaches me, not where I am, when you squeeze the trigger.”

  “You’ve been shot at and you believe it was me?” Her body went cold when she realized just how easily Bulldog could have killed Rhone. The fact that he didn’t proved that he was under the control of someone else. Someone, who wanted a hold over her once she took the hit.

  His expression didn’t change.

  “For god’s sake, Rhone! How can you even believe that? Think about it. You left me in the presence of hundreds of people. How could I have—”

  “Enough. I’m not interested. We both know what you’re capable of. It would’ve been child’s play to get up one of those trees and back in time for the race. You would do anything to save your sister.”