Forbidden Desire: Bound To Her Betrothed's Brother

BRIENNE VONBERG

~SIX MONTHS PRIOR~

La Rosa Nero, the popular pleasure house owned by Allister Kane Deandre, was the definition of sin if it were to have a heartbeat. It pulsed with moans from courtesans clothed with almost nothing, some getting fucked in the open by men while others stripping and dancing for their entertainment. The scent of cigarette smoke and sweat-slicked skin filled the air, and slow sensual music serenaded it.

I kept my head down, moving like a shadow through the charged atmosphere of lust and made my way to the upper floors. La Rosa Nero was an infamous pleasure house, a den where the elites came to satisfy their darkest cravings, but that night, it was my hunting ground.

Allister Kane Deandre would be there that night. My sources had sworn it. The adopted son of Giovanni Deandre, the cruel bastard with haunting brown eyes, and a reputation for being ruthless and leaving dead bodies in his trail. He owed me. Two years ago, in a raid on his family's rival faction, he'd led the charge that shattered my sister's life, leaving her in a vegetative coma state.

Since then, I tried to get to him, to drive a blade through his heart but he'd eluded me.

The gold mask I wore hid the upper half of my face, and the silk gown clung to my curves in a way that it felt borrowed. The most important and crucial item for that night was the dagger pinned and carefully wrapped in my hair like an accessory.

I slipped past two bouncers distracted by a pair of giggling girls, then followed the private hall that led to the executive rooms, where only the major elites, Allister included, were hosted. My contact had been precise about the courtesan that usually entertained Allister. Finding her had been easy, and I took care of her the way I knew best.

A whisper of guilt stirred as I remembered the courtesan’s unconscious body behind the linen carts. I hushed it. Guilt had no place in what I intended.

When I reached his door, the hallway fell silent. It was as though the building itself held its breath when Allister Deandre occupied a room.

I slipped inside.

He stood near the window, phone pressed to his ear and voice issuing commands. The city’s night glow touched the edge of his jaw, making the shadows sharper. He stood tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in black from head to toe and with dark hair in a perfect disarray. He exuded an aura that could easily make lesser men bend to his will.

He didn't look at me when I entered. He didn't care to.

“Close the door.” He said, voice low, but stern.

I obeyed.

His eyes lifted then, brown, cold with a hardness that can pierce through one's soul. They moved over me once, slow and assessing, yet unreadable.

“Strip.” He said.

My pulse jumped. Not exactly from fear. I had rehearsed and prepared for that moment. But because no one should sound that calm while ordering a stranger to undress.

Still, I couldn’t falter. Not when the dagger was still strapped against my scalp.

I let the gown slip from my shoulders to the ground, leaving me clad only in a lacy black thong and a matching bra straining against my full breasts. I felt exposed and vulnerable.

“Get on the bed and touch yourself.” He said, and I swallowed hard.

I crossed the room, the rug soft beneath my bare feet. The sheets were cool against my palms when I crawled onto them and my heartbeat grew loud in my chest, louder than the music below. He watched, unblinking, as I parted my thighs and trailed fingers down my stomach, dipping beneath the thong to circle my clit. Heat bloomed low in my belly, unwanted but insistent, my pussy growing slick under my touch. I bit my lip to stifle a moan, eyes flicking to him. He was distracted again, phone buzzing once more. This was it, the split second I'd waited for.

“Yes.” He murmured. “Handle it.”

His voice was low, transactional. Detached. My hand darted to my hair, fingers closing around the hilt of the thin dagger I'd woven into my updo. In a split second, I lunged at him, blade aimed straight for his chest. I envisioned the spurt of his blood and the light fading from those wicked eyes. But he was faster. His hand shot out like a viper, clamping my wrist mid-thrust. The knife clattered to the floor and he ended his call.

I twisted, trying to wrench free, but it was to no avail. He wasn’t just strong, he felt like he knew how to dismantle a body without effort.

I panicked.

A shove sent me face-down onto the bed, and I felt cold metal snap around both of my wrists. Handcuffs.

I jerked against them, but it was useless. His hand pressed my body down, hard and unyielding. I braced for the end, for a bullet or blade that would kill me as I'd tried to kill him.

It never came. Instead, his fingers hooked under my mask, yanking it away from my face. Recognition flickered in his gaze. Not the personal kind though. My father, Maximus Vonberg, was a popular business tycoon, and I, his daughter, shared in his fame. So, Allister knew who I was. But not the reason why I came. Heartless men like him hardly ever remember the blood they spill or damage they cause.

"Brienne Vonberg." A smile curled on his lips. "Now, this is interesting."

He pushed me further into the bed easily, and one of his hands secured both of mine in the handcuffs.

"Dressed as a whore, to gut me? Baby, if you want my blood, you're going to have to try harder."

"I'll advise you kill me now because you might not get so lucky next time." I spat, defiance dripping in my tone even though I knew my life was in his hands then. He could end me very easily.

"Oh, but I do have something better in mind." Panic surged within me, mingled with a traitorous thrill as his eyes trailed over my body.

He unbuckled his belt, and instead of his cock, he drew out a gun, a sleek black pistol with a gleaming barrel.

"Let's see how easily you become undone with a gun." He murmured, voice laced with dark amusement.

He yanked my thong aside, exposing my dripping slit, and pressed the muzzle to the tip of my entrance. I froze, my heart hammering as it dawned on me what he intended. One wrong twitch, and it could fire, ending me. Still, he pushed the gun forward, inch by inch, penetrating my pussy and stretching my walls that clenched in protest and want.

It was cold at first, shocking, but heat from friction settled within me as he fucked me with it. Slow at first, then with a rapid rhythm. The ridges of the gun scraped my sensitive nerves, and I could feel my slickness coating the steel.

I remained in shock. I was being fucked with a gun by the man I planned to kill. Getting shot instead would perhaps be a better fate.

"No." I whispered, but it dissolved into a moan as he angled it deeper, grinding against my g-spot.

My hips buckled, despite my restraint, and my breaths came in ragged pants as I became undone.

My clit throbbed as he fucked me with the gun, his eyes devouring every twitch, every flush creeping over my skin, and his lips held a smirk through it all. I hated him. Hated the man who destroyed my sister's world. But my body betrayed me as pussy grew wetter and wetter with every thrust.

"Don't be shy. Scream your defeat and cum for me." He leaned in and whispered, his breath fanning my ear.

I tried to fight it. My teeth sank into my lip as I bit back a cry, but the relentless pump shattered me. Orgasm tore through me, my pussy spasming wildly around the invading steel. I cried out, unable to restrain myself as I came hard. My bound form consumed in waves of bliss.

He withdrew it slowly, the wet glint on the metal mocking my surrender.

His eyes gleamed with dark amusement, like a predator savoring the moment after killing its prey. He dragged the wet barrel along my inner thigh, smirking.

“Hmm…” He murmured, amused. “You came hunting… and ended up cumming for me instead.”

A slow, taunting smile tugged at his mouth as he lifted the gun that was still damp from my wetness, to his lips.

His tongue licked the slick off the steel, and his eyes remained locked on mine all through, causing a shiver to crawl down my spine.

“Fuck.” He exhaled, savoring it. “You taste like sin, begging to be ruined.”

I lay there, still handcuffed and undone, fury boiling beneath the aftershocks at my core.

“I’ll ignore your little attempt.” He spoke again, brushing my cheek with his thumb. “But next time you pull a stunt like that, I’ll enjoy teaching you exactly how badly you miscalculated.” His tone dripped with a lethality that held not just a threat, but a promise.