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My Wicked Devil

Club Wicked, Book 3

Novel Length

Contemporary BDSM Romance

Erotic M/F with some M/F+F/F

 

 

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  After a motorcycle accident left her with a fractured pelvis, former dare devil and actress Kira Harmony cannot have sex without pain. Unwilling to give up on her dreams of someday having a normal love life, she has come to Club Wicked to find a Dom. And not just any Dom. Kira is looking for the best sadist she can find, a Master who can help her learn how to turn her pain into pleasure and help her escape the prison her body has become.

  Lord Bryan Sutherland has always had a taste for meeting the needs of masochistic submissives. When Kira contacts him, her plea for his help intrigues him. He's always loved curvy redheads, and they certainly have an explosive chemistry together, but he doesn't know if it is possible to establish the kind of trust needed in order to train her mind to convert agony into ecstasy. That trust is sorely tested when Kira continually pushes herself too far and refuses to safeword out.

  Bryan must make a decision; continue to train Kira and run the risk of seriously hurting her, or walk away from the uncontrollable woman who holds the key to his heart.


Heat Level: Erotic M/F w/ some M/F+F/F fun

***See mini-rant at the bottom of the page about S&M

 

   
 

Sneak Peek from Chapter 1

 

 

  Kira Harmony took a deep breath, the scents of perfume, cologne, and sex filling her nostrils. Before she’d heard of Club Wicked, she’d never known that people having lots and lots of sex in one building left a pheromone haze in the air, something that would make her almost instantly aroused. But now that she was here, surrounded by hedonism on a scale she’d never even imagined, set against the opulent splendor of the club, she took another deep breath and smiled as she looked around the massive entrance. A double staircase led down from the floor above, and a balcony stretched around it. Statues of women in long robes in states of partial undress flanked either side of the stairs, and Kira was pretty sure she’d seen similar statues at the Acropolis Museum in Greece.


  An older man called out, “Ms. Harmony.” She turned and found a smartly dressed and very big man offering his arm.


  “Good evening. My name is Mr. Grant. Master Hawk is waiting for you at the bar. Since this is your first time here, he asked me to escort you and beat off any Doms that get in the way.”


  Laughing, she glanced down at her outfit. From the tour she’d been taken on after being granted membership at Wicked, she knew that inside the club people wore pretty much next to nothing. Her teal halter dress, a vintage piece from the fifties, would normally be risqué. With her size 16 body came a nice set of breasts that were all but spilling out of the top. With her long auburn hair up in a French twist, her freckled back was bare and exposed. Add a pair of nylons with the hem running up the back, and she felt sexy, in a Marilyn Monroe in The Seven Year Itch sort of way, but nothing any man would come running for.


   A stunning woman with long, carefully curled blonde hair glided past them in a G-string. The other woman’s perfect, wobble-free body made Kira suck her gut in.


   No matter what sadist she ended up with, she would never, ever do a public scene.


   Realizing the gentleman, Mr. Grant she believed was his name, waited for her to respond, she forced a smile. “Oh, I think I’ll be safe, but I wouldn’t mind the escort. Right now my knees are about to give out.”


   Mr. Grant laughed and placed her hand on his arm in a very old-world gesture of civility. He was older, probably late sixties, but he was also self-assured. “Darling, I may be a submissive, but let me tell you. You look amazing, and any Dom would be thrilled to have his collar on your lovely, swanlike neck.”
  

  Kira couldn’t help her pleased smile. His sincerity warmed her from the inside out, giving her the courage to follow his lead as they made their way to the Hall of Mirrors bar. They started walking through the opulent foyer of Wicked, and Kira tried to keep from feeling overwhelmed. For fuck’s sake, she’d done a free-fall jump from the top of the Eiffel Tower when she’d been an actress, with a split second between getting the shot and pulling the cord on her parachute. This should be a piece of cake. There was nothing in this massive space to suggest this was anything but a magnificent private club that catered to the extremely wealthy outside Washington, DC. It certainly didn’t look like the premier BDSM club on the East Coast, but it was, and by some miracle, she’d gotten in.
They reached the massive polished-brass double doors that led to the public bar. Two big men in black tuxedos opened the doors in unison and let them in.

  Normally she would have giggled at such a choreographed display, but the space beyond took her breath away.


  Gilt mirrors, crystal chandeliers, and beautiful, naked people.


   Mr. Grant took them to the left, along a massive dark-wood bar that occupied one entire wall of the room. Behind the bar, ornately framed mirrors extended up to the two-story ceiling, and on the opposite side massive windows opened out into a nighttime garden illuminated by tasteful lighting. Having been raised as the daughter of a very successful plastic surgeon, she was used to money, but this place had something money couldn’t buy.
  

  It had class.


   She scanned the crowd and couldn’t help the rush of excitement speeding her pulse. The public bar area was crowded, and every couch and chair was taken. There were even those who stood with submissives kneeling at their feet.


   Another thing she didn’t think she’d ever be able to do in public. Fuck, she was going to make one shitty-ass submissive, but she had no choice.
  

   This had to work.


   Soon the familiar sight of her old costar’s long black hair and strong Native American profile came into view. Tonight his hair was held back by a silver clip, and he wore a tight black T-shirt and dark brown leather pants. Sexy, sinful, and oh so obviously in love with the pretty bartender smiling at him.
  

  Sunny, the bartender, had a very gamine beauty about her. Tall, slender, with massive dark chocolate brown eyes and perfect skin. Her pixie cut made her already high cheekbones even sharper and her full, natural pout all the more sensual. The way the other woman looked at Hawk let Kira know Hawk’s devotion wasn’t one-sided.


   Kira had met Sunny a few weeks ago at a party hosted by their mutual friend, Jesse Shaw, for a charity Kira was active in. While Sunny had been there as Hawk’s friend, not girlfriend, Hawk had still treated her like his date. Kira found Sunny to be a blast to hang around, and she was grateful the other woman was here tonight.


   Mr. Grant smiled at Sunny. “I have a delivery for Master Hawk.”


  Hawk turned and smiled. “Ah, Mr. Grant, you’re looking handsome as always.”


   Mr. Grant chuckled. “Master Hawk, you could charm the pants off a monk.” He turned to Kira and gave her hand a kiss. “I hope you have a wonderful evening. If you ever have any questions, please let me know. I enjoy helping people, so please don’t hesitate.”


   Charmed by his good manners, she smiled, then gave him a light kiss on the cheek, making sure not to smear him with her lipstick. “Thank you so much, Mr. Grant. I hope you have a lovely evening as well.”


   She waved as Mr. Grant left and turned to find Hawk smiling at her. Goodness, he was a handsome man, but they’d never had anything even close to a spark between them. It was a case of the totally wrong chemistry for romance and the right one for friendship.


   “Kira, so glad you made it. You look amazing.” He stood and gave her a strong hug. “Welcome to Wicked.”


   Sunny reached across the bar and gave Kira’s hand a squeeze. “Hey, sweets. What can I get you?”


   “A glass of dry champagne would be nice.”


   “Got it.”


   Hawk sat and gestured to the empty stool. “Have a seat. Are you ready to go sadist hunting?”


   She swallowed hard. When he said it out loud like that, her idea sounded not only stupid but dangerously stupid. “I guess.” He raised one eyebrow, and she lifted her chin. “I mean, yes.”


   Sunny returned and set Kira’s glass next to her. “I talked with Master Hawk, and he thought it might go better if I went with you. I know all the Doms here by either sight or reputation—us submissives do gossip—so I can tell you which sadist would probably be the most helpful for you.”


   While Kira took a healthy drink of her champagne, Hawk nodded. “Besides, I really don’t want to go and talk about some guy’s dick and how good he can fuck you. No offense.”


   Laughing, Kira set her glass down. “Good point. I’ll be more than happy to talk all day with you about stunt work, but we’ll skip the sex stuff. It would be like talking about it with my dumb-ass younger brother.”


   Sunny giggled and managed to choke it back at Hawk’s glare. “A word to the wise, Kira, as a submissive, I’d really watch lipping off to any Dom. It could end badly.”


   A woman passed them with what looked like weighted clamps hanging from her labia. She had to walk with an odd, wide-legged stance to keep from dislodging the weights as she followed an older woman dressed in a conservative suit. Kira tried not to stare, but the woman’s obvious humiliation was made all the worse by the fact that she was so aroused her honey had dripped down her thighs.


   The sound of snapping fingers brought her attention back to Hawk and Sunny. “What? Sorry. I was distracted.”


   Hawk stood and reached over the bar, easily lifting Sunny from the other side. For a brief moment his hands lingered on the bartender’s waist, and Kira almost got knocked on her ass by the blast of sexual heat coming from the two of them. Then Hawk took a step back and let Sunny go.


The other woman’s nipples were hard as rocks, and the pulse in the side of her neck banged. Kira felt sorry for the young woman and slung an arm over her shoulder, helping to break the tension. “So, where does one go sadist shopping at?”

 

 
 

   I've had people ask me if there is a lot of abuse in the story because it's about a Sadist and a masochist. No, there is absolutely zero abuse because in my point of view abuse is an inflection of mental or emotional pain that is done to an unwilling person. But Ann, how can there be any S&M with no abuse? Because, my darlings, what Lord Bryan gives Kira is completely and one hundred percent consensual and he does it for her pleasure. What? Pleasure from pain? Yes, pleasure from pain. Some people are wired like that and for those Sadists that crave the mixture of the two, there are always masochists who love providing what the sadist needs in order to feel complete.

   Now I'm not saying Lord Bryan takes a baseball bat to Kira or strings her up with barbed wire, but he does mix the pleasure with the pain enough to get her into the subspace she needs and give her absolutely mind blowing orgasms. So if I try S&M does that mean I'll have mind blowing orgasms? Maybe? It all depends on how you, my beautiful little snowflake, react to things. Personally I just can't get off on pain. I'm not wired like that. But, I do have sadistic tendencies when I'm matched with a masochist. No blood, because it makes me pass out-not sexy-, but watching my submissive endure discomfort, knowing that he/she is going deep into subspace and watching the transformation from suffering to ecstasy is amazing.

   So, I had a point somewhere in there...oh yeah. Don't be scared away bit the title of 'Sadist'. It doesn't =dangerous psychopath. They're people just like everyone else. They have jobs, get married, have kids, pay taxes, and bitch about politics. They probably do such unsexy things as laundry and have the ocassional bout of the stomach flu which they piss and moan about like anyone else. They're human beings and just because their sexual tastes run to what is considered edgy doesn't mean they should be feared or shunned. And yes, while there are bad Sadists/Doms/Dommes out there that cross the line between consensual and abuse, there are bad people everywhere. No cross section of our culture is going to be free of evil. You're going to find scary assholes everywhere from an ice cream man to the CEO of a major corporation that love to abuse, degrade, and destroy people. But in My Wicked Devil every ounce of pain given by my Sadist to my masochist is done out of love.

   Find that hard to understand or believe? Take a peek at My Wicked Nanny. I begin to delve into a slightly masochistic subs mind in that book, getting you ready for Lord Bryan and Kira's love story. All kinky fuckery aside, that's what all of my Club Wicked books are, love stories for people who like their vanilla ice cream covered with fudge, nuts, whipped(snork) cream, and cherries on top. Oh and sprinkles, can't forget sprinkles.

   Now I want ice cream.

 

Copyright Ann Mayburn 2011-13. All rights reserved. No part of these publications may be reproduce, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of the author.