A Billionaire's Dirty Secrets

A Billionaire's Dirty Secrets

Maricel Arroyo · Ongoing · 32.8k Words

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Introduction

Young Elise of the Von Schillers was sent to Giancarlo Verrazzano for him to mentor secretly. A cynic to love, she manages to draw him in with her innocent charm and cheeky wit, and it is seriously impairing his duties.
When he learned that an old enemy has come back to the city, he has to expose her identity for her own sake even though it will force him to confess his connection to a secret – an exclusive club that caters to the darkest secrets of tortured souls...

Elise is dreading the day she must face the world as a Von Schiller and she fights being spoiled by her over-protective and uber-hot mentor. He is so strict about his responsibilities that it’s driving her nuts. She can't believe the nasty rumors she hears about him because, under his blanket of protection, she has never felt more safe… especially with the spate of kidnapped young women in the city and a serial killer no one seems to catch.

But when he himself confesses about the Secret Sins Club, she has to step back and see with unbiased eyes the real man lurking behind the beautiful mask...

Chapter 1

“CAN I join you?”

I looked up from my Cosmo drink to the man standing next to me. It took me just a second to perk up from where I sat at the bar.

Even in the dim light, I could see that he was tall and extraordinarily handsome.

He carried the black Levi’s jacket, the white shirt inside in a pair of jeans exceptionally well—hot.

He was near enough for me to know I liked his smell—manly and expensive.

Most of all, he’s got the sexiest smile of anyone I saw here tonight.

But it was his voice, low-key, vibrating yet clear against the low hum of conversation around us—the timbre of a man’s voice after sex—that clinched it for me.

There was soft music playing in the background to boost the intimate ambience, as it’s meant to, since this joint was supposedly one of the hot places to hook up with bold brats for casual sex.

Executives, rich kids, and broke coeds that were young, fresh, meat.

Yes.

My casual meets from other places like this said it like that. Young… fresh… meat. I was just mimicking.

“Sure,” I replied, smiling, but lowering my gaze so he could see how sexy my eyes were. My eyelashes were thick and all-natural, and they weren’t the only assets on my face or my body.

I knew he’d already scrutinized me before he approached me. And he was here now because he liked what he saw.

Still, the beauty of his face was extraordinary. Clean-cut of the jaws, elegant forehead and perfectly shaped eyebrows.

His nose as straight and perfect and his mouth full and a little pouting, even as obviously virile as he was only added to his erotic allure.

He’s hot stud walking in big-ticket boots.

I was luckier.

He sat down on the stool next to mine.

His name was Emile.

We started to chat, words heavily tinged with flirtation, soft smiles and enticing laughter.

We didn’t have to stay there that long.

We found what we need.

We knew the game well.

So, the next hour we found ourselves in a hotel room, naked, sweat glowing on our skin as we fucked hot and hard.

It was set the moment he asked to sit beside me…

And, oh god, he was hotter out of clothes, in bed, than what I could ever hope to wish for in my lifetime…

And I thought that was it. We’re done.

I might not get attached but I surely would not easily forget tonight.

Or him.

But, again, he was a surprise.

He just wasn’t like the others.

He stayed to talk, to tease more, and flirt better.

It amazed me.

Normally, after sex, it was like whatever animation there was disappears.

Both were ready to leave and forget about that just happened because it was all just play.

No emotional attachment.

Attachments were for idiots.

But he seemed genuinely flirtier afterwards.

Weird… but I also didn’t want to leave him as in other nights. An unspoken rule I broke easily with this guy as I might never meet him again.

Our conversation turned to secret cravings.

I caught early on he wasn’t ordinary. His clothes and speech screamed wealth. He acted and talked ‘money.’

I couldn’t just ask, though.

When you meet anyone from the exclusive high-end bars we’d hooked up at, no one asked invasive questions. It could drive away prospects and could shun me out of places I meticulously worked so hard to get into for months now.

I prepared for this, Worked hard to have a perfect body and cultivated my assets because that was how you get in.

But he provided more chatter without being asked.

He was enjoying himself. He acted like he was happy to find me, while I was starting to get this feeling we were hunting for each other.

Oh my fucking god. I think I have in bed with me one of the Saints!

I tried not to show how winded I felt the moment I suspected what he was—a fucking member of the ultra-exclusive Secret Sins Club, the playground of the sons of the cream of the elites, called Saints in hushed whispers in super-select circles.

And only the Saints, these perfectly hunged, extremely beautiful, and outré-wealthy men could select and recruit women to the ultra-exclusive, secret elite society that catered to scandalous liaisons and tabooed fetishes.

And then, as casually as that, he began to talk about it.

“Oh my god… yeah, I heard about that. So that secret sex den really exists? “

He nodded. “Yes, it does. This life is fought with much stress, you know.“ He winked at me. “There is always a need to unwind, to be naughty and play… with our secret, most primal adult fantasies.” He nuzzled my neck. “What’s your secret fantasy, Nyleen?”

I couldn’t believe I actually gave him my real name earlier.

As I’d said, he’s different. He could take from me whatever he wanted just with the use of his tongue… and I felt my body flush at the memory of how he had done exactly that.

He said his name was Emile.

He did not give me his last name.

I didn’t believe it was his real name. I always gave false names, so why would anyone not do the same?

But somehow, I was suddenly sure he really was Emile.

I blinked.

That Emile? But I thought—

His teeth gently nipped at the soft skin of a breast, near an areola, and I smiled. Such appetite.

It also reminded me I hadn’t yet answered.

But then, I had. Earlier.

“I already told you, remember?” I felt myself blush.

“Is that your dirtiest secret?”

I shook my head.

“What is your dirtiest secret?”

I took a deep breath. “The same… but dirty, harsh, dark¸ smelly… literally… dirty. If that can be managed.” I covered my face with my hands and mock-screamed.

He was laughing as he pulled my hands away. “I like it. Where would you like it to happen?” he asked, again nuzzling, dropping tiny kisses at the side of my face. I gasped a little when I felt his breath, and then the wet end of his tongue, in my ear.

“To get brutally… raped in an alley or a ditch or… or an old, abandoned building miles away from people. I want have cuts and bruises and maybe…” I shivered, “a few broken ribs… I don’t know. I don’t know why that excites me. As long as I don’t die or get seriously injured, and that I can go back to work.” I took a deep breath. “I’m insane, don’t you think?”

“You’re not,” he protested as if it was anything common.

“Emile, who’s sane enough to wish that?”

He raised his head and his eyes bore down at me. “People who are more human than most… those who know how it’s like to be at the edge of danger and have hanged at the height of insanity that they have become monsters of it and need more to remain… alive…”

I stared back at him. My heart was racing like it never had before. What the hell did I just hear?

He was grinning down at me now as if he knew I got him exactly. Again, that look in his face that told me he felt he’d found me.

And again, my suspicion that we had found each other.

His hand continued to calmly caress my back as if we were talking about the weather while we wounded down, not about a seriously fucked up fetish.

“A woman who wants to let go of boundaries to someone she can absolutely trust. A woman who wants, for once, to let go of her culpability and just let someone else take good care of her. A woman who can play in the dark doing the dirtiest of deeds without the consequences of… let’s say… death? There’s a reason why it’s a secret, dummy. We can’t let the priests and false prophets know. They’ll be so envious they’d set as on fire on a pyre, as they do saints.”

I giggled at his analogy. Then I sobered, as I then realized what he was actually telling me.

My breath got caught in my throat as the craving hit me.

But it was hard to believe it. Only the crazy understand other crazies.

As he’d said, there’s a reason why it’s a secret… this club.

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked, still holding my breath.

He laughed, sexy and amused. “You told me your secret fantasy. You are beautiful, a wonderful fuck, and so, so hot. And… you’re a nurse. I don’t think you’ll find it that hard to fit in with… you know—the bloody outcome of what turns you on.”

My eyes dimmed slightly as I felt the warm surge of arousal down there. “If you’re telling me these things anyway… I’d love to hear more. How can I be a member, for instance, so I can finally indulge in my secret… sin? “

“There's an initiation.”

Excitement definitely was a good aphrodisiac. “What is it? No, I don’t care what it is. I know I’ll survive it. Tell me more, please.”

“Ah-ah. Not right away. You have to watch a video first, so you’ll know what you’re getting into. “

I bit my lower lip. I went through the dark web, into private forums and closed threads. There was only one standard video watched by initiates of the sex den rumored in those forums. “I think I know which one. Trina Cheng’s? “

“Yes.” His forehead furrowed slightly. “You think you can survive what she survived?”

I closed my eyes to the sensation brought by the memory of what I had seen.

She, Trina Cheng, was the reason I started to believe I could possibly indulge in and survive my secret fantasy. “Ohhh, yes!”

He laughed softly, then moaned, his hand sliding down between us to cup my sex.

I instantly melted to his touch. As he slid two fingers into me, deep, I rocked against his hand.

“Uuhhh, baby, you're turning me on again.”

I threw my head on the pillow as he worked to make me cum, because I was already sopping wet with the conversation, and it didn’t take much…

“Emile…!” I gasped as a liquid fire of pleasure bolted through me, my back leaving the bed in an arc as I let it overcome me.

When it passed, I rolled over and the next moment I was on top of him… rubbing my sweet spot on his rock-hard shaft, loving the pain of it tickling my swollen and super-sensitive clit. “Tell me more,” I asked breathlessly.

“Harder first,” said Emile, his eyelids drooping.

I obeyed, closing my eyes at both pain and bliss. “Ooohhhh… will you help me get to this club, Emile? Please… give me hope, at least…?”

As his hands started to explore me again, he nodded. I gasped when he squeezed both breasts rather harshly with his hands, only to soothe them by slowly flicking the hardened nipples. “Now, where were we?” he asked in a voice slightly bored but humming with the promise of gratification that was about to happen again. He squeezed a breast painfully, and blood shot through my veins. I moaned…

And I proceeded to remind him where exactly where we were at…

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