About the Book
Club Rule #4 — Masks are mandatory but clothing is optional.
Dame Victoria Whittingstall, appointed by The Queen to serve in the Royal Courts, thought she’d achieved all her dreams.
But there’s always been something missing when it came to sex. On the heels of a break up with Boring Baron, her long time boyfriend, her best friend treats her to a one night pass to London’s most exclusive sex club.
And completely alive… Club Exotica is straight out of her most forbidden, secret fantasies.
When a handsome stranger finally gives Tori the mind-blowing sex she’s yearned for, she knows one taste will never be enough.
It almost makes her forget about the sexy young barrister that flirts with her at court.
But in Club Exotica, betrayal is around every dark corner and lasting love is elusive.
Life had turned surreal. Sitting in the luxury of Diana’s chauffeur-driven limo, Tori watched the night lights of London speeding by but saw only a blur. On her way to a posh sex club, the guest of one of London’s reigning society queens, her racing thoughts swirled and blurred with equal speed.
She clutched her long trench coat tightly around her body to conceal the too-short black dress Diana had insisted would be considered conservative at Club Exotica. Her dear friend’s micro-mini served as proof that Tori’s attire was demure in comparison.
If word ever got out, it could destroy her career. But Diana had been right—the place was a ghost. No record of it existed on the internet or anywhere that Tori could find. And she had access to very good resources.
She huffed, a quiet little snort of dismay. What the hell was she doing?
She was out of her mind to even think about setting one foot inside a place like that. She was a respected judge in Her Majesty’s Royal Courts of Justice. And she was on her way to London’s most exclusive, secret, no-holds-barred sex club!
Ian watched her bend down to him.
“Thank you,” she breathed into his ear.
“You’re so fucking hot.” He moaned and tried to catch her mouth in a kiss. With his hands cuffed behind him, he couldn’t stop her from standing upright.
She smiled down at him as she reached in a drawer and pulled out a towel. After patting her sweaty body, she picked up her judge’s robe.
“But…” he started to say. “I want…”
His lust had grown nearly painful, his need to slide into her warmth consuming him. He would thrust inside her over and over until he brought them both to a roaring climax.
“You do not have permission to speak,” she said, a happy smile on her face.
He watched, flabbergasted, as she proceeded to dress and put away her paddle. Her breathing normal, she appeared ready and willing to head back to court.
She walked up to him and looked down at his raging boner. And grinned.
He narrowed his eyes on her, slithering tentacles of frustration pervading his lust. If she would just release his hands, he’d have her under him in fucking seconds.
His frustration intensified. Had this been simply about revenge, after all? Would she end their odd connection now, before it had even started?
“You look good enough to eat,” she repeated her earlier compliment. “But, sadly, I have court in five minutes.”
He looked up at her, his face still covered with her juices, not quite believing she really planned to leave him unsatisfied. Did she want him to plead?
“Please, Mistress. I want you. Need you. Please let me make love to you.”
She watched him, her expression bland while she replaced her sexy boots with plain pumps.
Alarm replaced frustration. She wouldn’t leave him here naked and handcuffed…would she? How would he ever get out of such embarrassing mess?
“Okay, whatever. We can pick this up later,” he said. “But you have to release me before you leave.”
“Do I?” she asked, offering him a smirk. “I like the idea of knowing you’re restrained here waiting for me.”
“No. You can’t. I have a meeting this afternoon.” His voice grew strident, loud, and urgent.
She walked behind him, and he grew still, focusing on any sound that would tell him what she was up to. A loud click alerted him that she’d unlocked her chamber door.
Panic gripped him, curling in his stomach and choking him.
“No! You can’t leave me like this!”
“Justice Whittingstall is waiting for you in her chambers. You can go right in,” the girl said, pointing toward the door at the end of a long stone hallway.
He knocked once and opened the door. Tori sat behind her desk, but she wasn’t smiling. She was also still wearing her high court robes, which seemed odd.
After shutting the door behind him, he stepped forward, waiting for her to say something. When she didn’t, he went into formal mode, since—sexting aside—it was always the safest strategy when invited into a judge’s chambers.
“Your Honor, Justice Whittingstall. Thank you for seeing me. I want to say again how sorry I am. I promise never to lie or keep the truth from you again. Ever. And I hope—”
“Lock the door,” she interrupted, her tone cold.
He hurriedly did as he was told. Turning back to face her, he tried again. “Please, give me another chance.”
She sat behind her desk, looking prim in all black with her hair pulled tight in a bun. Her expression remained stony and unyielding.
He took a few steps closer. “I thought you invited me here today t-to—” He stammered to a stop.
One did not tell a high court judge that he was there to bang her wet, throbbing, aching person, even if she had said it first.
Facing her icy glare, he retreated. “Or did you mean that you wanted to meet after hours or at the club tonight? I’ll do anything you want.”
“Will you really do anything I want?”
Seeing an opening, he eagerly said, “Yes. Wherever and whenever. We can start slowly and then—” “Take off all your clothes.”
About the Author
Kate Allure writes erotic romances that celebrate sensuality, sexual exploration and, of course, true love. Writing for Entangled Publishing and Sourcebooks, her books feature real women meeting handsome professional, working men as they go about their everyday lives—and the fun they have behind closed doors! Her work is “Escapism of the richest, most decadent variety, 4 stars” (RT Book Reviews), and “sizzling and sensual. Intense chemistry, great characterization, and a kinky page-singeing ending will have readers clamoring for more,” (Publishers Weekly). Kate’s non-fiction writing included working for American Ballet Theatre and New York City Ballet, and recently creating the Romance Readers Guide to Historic London under the name Sonja Rouillard. Beyond writing, Kate’s passions include traveling and exploring all things sensual with her loving husband.
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