Vol.1 (London Brown, #3.5) by Leila DeSint 0000-00-00 00:00:00

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by Leila DeSint
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Vol.1 (London Brown, #3.5) by Leila DeSint
Leila DeSint
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Descend into a world of deception, depravity, decadence, desire and desperation…

In the opulent setting of London's aristocracy, lives a young woman fractured into two distinct individuals, one face with multiple facets.

One façade, a whore, London Brown, who will confess unfathomable truths, the other, a loving daughter, Desniah Williams will pull back the curtain to reveal what lurks in the shadows.

Caden Jacob Carrington V, a politician will do anything to reclaim the woman he lost, including dredging up pains of the past.

Rhys Christos Edward Stowell, a philanthropist will fight to win the woman he loves while baring the darkness of his soul.

"London." With a tender guiding hand, he took me inside.

He stood behind me, removed the head cover, and replaced it with a blindfold. I removed my clothing, as the routine always went. Ivo took my hand and wrapped his arm around my waist, moving me to another room. His touch was clammy, which was unusual.

Every now and then, I would try to form a picture of the layout of the house based on steps and scent, but by the time they sent me home my mind was vacant. I loved that most about them.

As we manoeuvred down the hall goose bumps covered me. My nipples hardened. Some kind of pleasant wood aroma filled the air. Not that I knew one type from any other. He paused. Door hinges creaked. I put one foot in front of the other, seventeen steps. My bottom lip trembled.

I was a sacrificial lamb, slaughtered next to their feast table and shared. Time ticked away, bringing me closer to carnage.

Kees never entered a scene until I was prepared for him. Leather permeated the air around me. Ivo seized my wrist and affixed a strap. After both were fastened, he pulled my hands together, lifted them to a plank overhead and secured my restraints to it. His breathing deepened. They liked me on display, stretched out. I stood on my tippy toes to ease the pressure on my skin. Otherwise, the restraint eventually cut off circulation.

Heavy footsteps pounded the floor, we were no longer alone. My body tingled with anticipation and fear of what would be in store for me at Kees firm hand. Paddle? Crop? Cane? Whip? He changed it up. I'd yet to detect a pattern in how he selected the instrument of play.

Kees drew up behind me and inhaled. "Mmm."

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