Club Illicit: A Billionaire Bonded Romance Page 2

  Fuck, she is even more beautiful than her living image in my memories. And with a body now built for all the sin I wanted to commit with her back then, but held back when I realized I'd taken my first virgin. I took her so hard and fast, ripping through that tender spot without a care, too young and dumb to even notice. How could I continue pursuing her after that, how could I have introduced her to the world I inhabited when she'd only just discovered the vanilla one?

  Fate gave me another chance and what did I do but freaking blow it all over again? Running out with no idea where she lives or what she does in the city. Yeah I gave her a Diamond entry pass to Illicit but if she doesn't show up at the club for some reason- mostly that I'm an ass- how in hell will I ever find her again?

  “Evening sir, busy night already. We're almost full.” My strongest and oldest doorman calls himself Strike, real name Ronald Swiggins. I used to tease him on that, but we never mentioned it again after our first night raid together in the military. After we got out, Strike needed a job that allowed him to vent his deep-rooted emotions and I had the perfect one to give him.

  Without his help I doubt I'd have been able to build Illicit into the exclusive, high-end private club that's made me millions. The mob would surely have taken me down in my first week. Strike handled all that and continues to do so. My clients, most of them celebrities or titans of industry, know they can trust Strike with their most intimate secrets. I trust Strike with everything, especially my life.

  “Strike, there's a girl, if she shows I want you to let her in and let me know immediately,” I told him. “And stop with the cheesecake grin, it doesn't suit your tough guy stance.”

  “Just thinking it's about time you got back in the saddle,” he said. “Been a while, no?”

  “Maybe. I guess I got a little jaded with seeing the same woman every night in a different designer dress.” Strike was right. After so many women with muffin-top personalities, I'd lost the will to keep going through the motions.

  “Yeah, wealth and Hollywood looks must be tough. I wish I had your problems,” Strike said.

  “Shut it, Striker, you do okay by my count.”

  “No complaints, thanks to you. I'll keep my eyes on alert. What's the young lady's name?”

  “Harlow, Harley.”

  “Yep, Ready to ride.” I heard Strike mutter as the massive mat black door swung softly shut behind me. He never quite got beyond the coarse, army guy talk, but it didn't seem to bother the women who went wild for his massive strength and all over ink from wrist to abs. Strike, for all the buried aggression, wouldn't have stepped on an ant if he could help it.

  Without me saying anything, he knew I'd burned up on the women front. Sure, I could have any woman I wanted. Even before I opened Illicit there had never been any shortage of sexual adventuresses willing to share themselves with me. Now they were all around me every night and seemed to be of the impression that I was the high priest of bondage just because I'd opened the most exclusive, highly vetted, secure retreat for all things liberated.

  I fucked those women most nights of the week at first. Their need to submit to me was stronger than mine to dominate. In some way I felt I was giving to them by servicing that desire, or at least that was what I told myself.

  Other times I saw it as yet another game of pretense where the women gave me their bodies in silent expectation that I would give them security in return. It was a transaction I was not prepared to enter into under any circumstance. Until a woman came to me on equal terms- not financially, I had more than enough of that to give them and spent it freely without purchasing another soul. No, I wanted a woman who related to me genuinely. A woman who could get to the real me, beneath the physique and the cash. A woman who understood that life can sometimes deal a load of shit. A woman like Harlow.

  There was a palpable air of sensual tension as I came up the stairs, although that could have been my projection, still hot from my brief encounter with the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. Fuck, every time her face came into my mind, my cock got ready for action again. All the women I've had, why does this one have to be such a thorn constantly pricking at me? What is it about one woman that prevents you ever forgetting her, while hundreds of others pass by anonymous?

  In an alcove at the top of the stairs, one of the Illicit regulars, a Fortune 500 CEO and billionaire was standing behind a blindfold naked woman. This guy could only get it up in public and with a woman who would neither look at him nor touch him which left him little option but to come to the club regularly. He bid high for the best girls, eager to be bound, gagged and caned while others watched and there was never a shortage of women eager to put themselves up for the auction.

  Tonight's winner was a honey blonde, natural, with beautiful big breasts on a curvaceous frame. She looked amazing up on the stage beneath a single downlighter, trussed up with her arms cuffed high above her head, pressing her tits tight together. Her pelvis was strapped into a chastity girdle, open at the clit so that the skinny landing strip of her pubic hair was visible, with her bulging lips and engorged nub pushing through. As usual, the chief of industry had attached his favorite clamp to her clit nib and was paddling her big round ass cheeks slowly.

  With every slap, the woman clearly forced herself to repress a moan of heavy desire through the black silk gag tied tight around her mouth. This scene did nothing for me at all whereas the briefest glimpse in my mind of beautiful dark haired Harlow made my cock stir wild with craving. 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 brea
sts 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 lounge 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 eve
n 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.

  Ohmicottonsocks. 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 slick and glistening with her juices. She continued to pleasure her bulging clit with her own fingers, until the black man, who had somehow managed to maintain his huge erection, flipped her over and pushed his dick into her up to the mound. She moaned and immediately ground her pussy down onto his long blade, burying it deeper inside.