[Siren Classic: Erotic Consensual BDSM Romance, light bondage, spanking, whipping, sex toys, HEA]
Bad boy businessman Jamison Devereau attends the wedding of his brother, Justin, a member of the luxurious BDSM club known as Le Club Laurel Oak, located in a Victorian mansion in the historic district of Ocala, Florida. There he meets the beautiful Anne Sutton, manager of Le Club.
Jamie moves into the club to keep an eye on Devereau Plantation South, the brothers' Florida horse farm, while his brother is honeymooning in Europe. Jamie finds Anne to be attractive and just the type of woman he is looking for.
Anne is a few years older than Jamie and has serious body image issues to deal with due to her breast cancer. Although she is not involved in the BDSM lifestyle, she is not opposed to it. Jamie makes Anne confront her demons and stretch her horizons. He must get through the barriers to her heart, and must deal with his own dark baggage.
A Siren Erotic Romance
4 ANGELS: "It's Justin Deverau's wedding and his brother Jamie is at Le Club Laurel Oak-Ocala for the affair. Jamie's a member of Le Club's sister property in New Orleans and the Dom is here for a few weeks of celebration, play and to watch his brother's farm while he's away on his honeymoon. His attention is quickly ensnared by the club's manager, Anne Sutton, who thus far isn't involved in Le Club's BDSM activities. What's more, as a breast cancer survivor she isn't all that amenable to displaying her scarred body to anyone who wanders through the club's exclusive, but kinky, halls. Jamie doesn't care about her scares, and finds her beautiful just as she is. Will Anne, however, be receptive to his more kinky style? What's more, can she let her guard down to allow this man to see all of her? This story is the third book in the Le Club's series. It can be read as a standalone but of course, as it's in a series, there will be missed details if read out of order or without the first two in the series. It was good to finally read Anne's story. The author is skilled in putting internal conflict and flaws into her characters to make them more real, three-dimensional. The play between Justin and Anne was sexy but almost lighthearted as their BDSM play was scene play, or role-play, only. The rest of the time, their intimacy, while sizzling and seductive, was tamer than what one might expect from a BDSM story. This aspect will appeal to those who may wish their heroes and heroines to have a little spice to their sex without going guns-blazing, full BDSM that some stories provide. All in all, this is a great addition to the Le Club series and I can't wait to read more happenings at this exclusive Florida club." -- Bella, Fallen Angel Reviews
On Saturday morning, Anne Sutton looked up from her desk in the executive offices of Le Club Laurel Oak–Ocala, and there, leaning against the doorjamb of her office, was the most stunning man she had ever seen. She looked him up and down more boldly than she meant to before her gaze settled on his face. She felt herself swirling into the depths of his brandy-colored eyes. Was this what they meant by “swooning?”
Jamie Devereau’s dark, wavy hair, much shorter than that of his brother, Justin, was windblown, making him all the more attractive. His worn jeans fit his long legs and great butt like comfortable skin. He wore a black T-shirt, motorcycle boots, and aviator sunglasses pushed up on his head. A day’s scruff of beard darkening his face emphasized the strong bone structure and added tantalizingly to the bad-boy image. The resemblance between the brothers, however, was amazing. The men could have been twins although two years separated them in age. The Devereau gene pool is apparently very strong. She could see the gleaming black custom-made Ducati motorcycle that had been shipped to the club from New Orleans parked in front of the house, his helmet balanced on the seat.
“Mornin’, cher. I’m Justin’s brother, Jamie. I’ve come in for his wedding tomorrow, and I’m going to be using the Ming Suite while he’s on his honeymoon in France,” he said in a New Orleans drawl that oozed charm.
“Yes, I know. I’m Anne Sutton, the manager of Le Club. I’ve had the suite prepared.” She stood to shake his hand. Anne was tall and she liked her generous curves. Today she wore her shoulder-length light blonde hair in a sophisticated chignon which she hoped would emphasize her sparkling baby-blue eyes. Her black silk Armani suit fit her like a glove, and she knew her black Christian Louboutin pumps with the bright red soles highlighted her long legs.
“So, Ms. Sutton,” Jamie said with a wicked bad-boy grin, “I’d like to peel you out of that suit, bend you over this desk, and plant my cock between the cheeks of your really fine ass. The shoes can stay.” He added the last part as an afterthought. Apparently Mr. Devereau preferred the direct approach, for shock value if nothing else.
“That’s not going to happen, Mr. Devereau,” she responded tartly. “That is totally inappropriate.” Oh God, I think I just creamed my panties.
“I can be very inappropriate,” he responded.
I bet you can.
“Are you afraid to explore your wild side, Ms. Sutton?”
“No, Mr. Devereau, I’m not afraid. I’m just not so inclined,” she said, trying to maintain a stern demeanor, although she secretly wanted to grin. He really is a “bad boy!” He could be really irresistible.
“Call me Jamie…or Master. Want to bet? I’m going to make it a priority to change your mind,” he said quite seriously but with a devilish gleam in his eye. “Just so you know. I’ll see you at the wedding tomorrow.”
* * * *
He had to admit, this woman really got his juices churning. She was gorgeous, but that wasn’t really it. There was something about her, maybe a certain vulnerability hidden by her glossy surface. She was just the type of woman he liked, tall and cool on the surface, but with unplumbed depths hiding a molten hot center. He was just the man to help the volcano simmering inside blow! Justin had mentioned in one of their phone calls that the manager of the club was very attractive and apparently unattached, which had immediately piqued his interest.
You’re definitely on my wish list, cher. He grinned to himself as he strode from her office, down the front stairs of the mansion, and out to the parked bike. I want to get her out of that suit really bad! He threw his long leg over the motorcycle and tore out of the front gate, the Ducati growling in the quiet morning on Fort King Street.
As he looked back over his shoulder at the enormous white mansion, he couldn’t help comparing it to the darker, more dangerous atmosphere of the club in New Orleans, of which he was now a member.
Le Club Laurel Oak–Ocala was a very private BDSM club, catered to only ten members. The acronym BDSM stood for Bondage and Discipline, Dominance and Submission, and Sadomasochism, an alternative Lifestyle as varied as the people who practiced it. It spanned practices including spanking to whipping, blindfolding to bondage, role-playing, dominance and submission, all in varying degrees and extremes. The purpose was to increase sexual tension and pleasure for all participants.
I wonder if Ms. Sutton is into BDSM. It will be interesting to see her around the club since I’m going to be here for a while and find out. Jamie found the ambiance of the Ocala club much lighter and less intense than that of the New Orleans club. It was a new facility compared to Beaudelaire which had been on Chartres Street for probably over fifty years.
The Laurel Oak Estate was perfect for a club patterned after, and loosely affiliated with, the New Orleans facility of which Jamie was currently a member. He had taken over his brother’s membership position when Justin had moved to Ocala. The club was located just at the edge of the historic Ocala residential-business district. Each member had contributed a sizable initial investment and paid hefty annual membership fees which were calculated to cover the substantial operating expenses and generous salaries of the many employees. Some of the employees participated in the activities at the club, and some did not, but all were extremely loyal and discreet due to the excellent working conditions and high salaries paid at the club—not to mention the confidentiality agreements signed by one and all.
Despite her nerves she was turned on by his nearness, his self-confident touch, and his understanding. God, it’s been so long. I hope I haven’t forgotten how to do this. She abandoned herself to his touch. Nope, it’s coming back to me. No problem! She raised her aching center to his questing fingers as she urgently reached for more contact. He parted her pink pussy lips and stroked her gently although she was desperate for a stronger touch. He circled his thumb over her pulsing clit and the center of her pleasure, plunging his strong fingers into her channel. God, this is wonderful. It’s been so long since I felt like a complete woman. The defection of her fiancé at such a vulnerable time had severely damaged her self-esteem and she had been struggling with her body image problem for a long time.
“I can feel you quivering, baby,” he said. “Let it go.”
She moaned at his gentle touch, and she felt the tingling sensation begin to streak up her spine when he ran his fingers through her wet folds. Jamie took his time pleasuring her, not rushing the moment. She could feel him holding back his own response, but the heat of his gaze told her he was more than ready.
When she was close to an orgasm, he rose above her, entered her swiftly, and began a strong, sure stroking rhythm that quickly brought them both to the edge and over to oblivion with a crashing climax that rolled through them both like waves breaking on the shore.
“That was too quick, baby,” he said breathlessly. “I’ve been waiting for you all week. It’s been hard to keep my hands to myself. It’s a good thing we have all night.” He gently pulled her into his arms and settled her back against his length as their combined pulses began to settle and they drifted into satisfied sleep.
During the night, when she was still half-asleep, he entered her from behind and began the gentle, soothing rocking strokes that brought her to climax again and again, as though in a dream.
When she awoke in the morning, the sunlight was streaming in through the tall windows, falling across the bed and her naked breasts. The buttons had come undone during the night, or perhaps they’d had some help! She started to jump out of bed, but Jamie threw his muscled leg across her lower body, pinning her in place. “It’s too late for that, cher. That horse has left the barn,” he said matter-of-factly. “Did you honestly think I would make love to only half of you?” He kissed first one breast and then the other tenderly. “Do you think these puny little scars make you less of a woman? That I can’t see beyond them to the beautiful, strong, loving, responsive woman you are? If you do, I’m going to paddle your butt.” His expression was menacing, and she thought he just might do it.
“Oh, Jamie, they’re so ugly,” she cried, taking his threat only half seriously.
“Not to me,” he replied. He slowly ran his tongue along the slightly puckered pink scars under her breasts where the surgeries had been. They made her feel like a mangled mess.
“I don’t even look at them myself.” She had avoided her bathroom mirrors for years. She felt she looked good in her clothes, but clothes made the woman, and she just wasn’t sure of herself without them. They were her barrier against the world.
“Well, it’s time you did look.” He threw the blankets back and dragged her from the bed into the opulent bathroom until they were standing in front of the mirrored wall opposite the shower. He stripped the black silk shirt off the rest of the way. “Take a good look. Is this all you think you are? Yeah, your breasts are not completely symmetrical. There are a few scars. I can see the nipples are a little off. But I’m an ass man anyway, so it’s really not a problem,” he said with a devilish grin.
“I had a nipple-sharing procedure where half of the one remaining nipple was transplanted to the reconstructed breast,” she explained, blushing as he forced her to look into the mirror.
“And you have the nerve to be ashamed of the beautiful work your doctors did? You should be ashamed of that!” he said with conviction as he pulled her into the shower and turned the multidirectional jets on full blast, soaking them both.
He began soaping her body, paying particular attention to her much-maligned breasts and running his hands over her ass and between her legs, over her pretty pussy. “You’re a gorgeous woman, and you’re going to get over this. Or else. I wouldn’t mind seeing the cheeks of your very fine ass blushing bright pink from a good spanking if you don’t straighten up.”
For the first time, she thought he might really be serious about the spanking. Oh no! That would be awful, but her pussy began to tingle at the thought of his big, strong hand on her bare bottom. “The scars really don’t bother you?” she asked.
“Not in the way you think they should. It bothers me that you had to go through that illness, the surgeries, the uncertainty and fear and didn’t have the support you should have had from your fiancé. The physical reminders of all that don’t bother me at all.” He boosted her up and impaled her on his straining shaft as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He braced her back against the wall and began pumping into her willing pussy, slow and deep, as heat built between them. He bent his head down and took her nipple in his mouth, nipping and sucking, first one and then the other. Finally, she screamed and bucked as her release took her, rolling through her like a freight train, and he followed her over, losing himself in her orgasm. And then her tears came as six years of need and denial were wiped away. Slowly, she felt as though the cracks in her heart were mending, that she might eventually be whole again.