His Devil's Rage
His Devil’s Rage
Club Devil’s Cove - Book 8
A Suspense BDSM Novel
By
Linzi Basset
Copyright © 2019 Linzi Basset - All rights reserved
His Devil’s Rage
Copyright © 2019 Linzi Basset
Editor: Kristen Breanne
Proofread: Marie Vayer, Melanie Marnell & Janine Janse van Rensburg
Published & cover Design by: Linzi Basset
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, business establishments, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Linzi Basset has asserted her rights under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work. All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book/Book only. No part of this e-book/Book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without prior written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Warning: This book is for sale to adults only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase.
Disclaimer: Neither the publisher nor the authors will be responsible for any loss, harm, injury, or death resulting from use of the information contained in this book.
Contents
Acknowledgements
Author’s Note
Preface
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Club Devil’s Cove Series
Excerpt: His FBI Sub
Club Wicked Cove Series
Excerpt: Desperation: Ceejay’s Absolution
More Books by Linzi Basset
About the Author
Stalk Linzi Basset
Acknowledgements
This series has been so much fun to write. The support I received from all my fans who love the Club Cove series has been phenomenal and I thank all of you from the bottom of my heart.
I have an amazing ARC and street team who always stand at the ready, because, believe me, most of the time, it’s a race to the end. They have never let me down. Thank you, ladies, you know who you are. You’re all rock stars!
If any of my fans are interested in joining my ARC team, please feel free to send me an email to linzibasset@gmail.com.
I had two editors who worked with me on this series, Anumeha Gokhale, from book 1 to 4 and Kristen Breanne, from book 5 to 8. You have done a fantastic job and I thank you for your guidance and coaching during the editing process.
My proofreaders, Marie Vayer, Melanie Marnell and Janine Janse van Rensburg, thank you for always standing by and sprinting with me to get the books out on time. I know at times I ask the impossible, and it humbles me that you’re always willing to get it done without complaining.
To my two very competent and reliable virtual PAs, Kemberlee Snelling and Chasity Gosnell Mahala, you are two amazing superpower women. I don’t thank you enough, but you truly are my lifesavers. Without you making my load so much lighter, I’d never be able to produce the books as regularly as I do.
Last but not least, the heart of my life, who has been, and still are, my mentor in writing, and my biggest fan … I hope! James, you continually prove to me that we can all achieve our dreams. I truly cherish the day we met.
Finally, dear fans …
Remember, to always live life with passion!
Author’s Note
Dear Reader,
Club Devil’s Cove is a spin-off from Club Alpha Cove, featuring Rhone Greer and Keon LeLuc, the powerful brothers of Ruark Greer and Bracus LeLuc,
Please note for best enjoyment, this series should be read in sequence. Although each couple reaches their HEA in each book, there is a back storyline across the series which only concludes in book 8.
His Devil’s Rage, book 8, is the story of Bruce Rickett and Morgan Adler.
The electrifying conclusion to this compelling series.
Blurb
“I never beg, squirt. I order and command.”
Bruce Rickett, sex god extraordinaire, had a physique that melted women into puddles. A gentle giant of a man outside the club, he kept the primal, sexual beast lurking inside on a tight leash.
When the redheaded beauty from his past broke into his house, she awakened the Dom in him—and the 'not so little, little' Dom twitched with approval—but he had learned from the past not to trust blindly. Still, an innate desire to cherish, protect, and care for her begged him to put to rest the demons he detected dragging her under.
“I’ll accept your gracious offer ... under the condition that you become my full time, live in submissive.”
Morgan Adler, sex on heels, possessed an allure men found hard to resist, but she was a woman broken and riddled with guilt. Past mistakes haunted her at the hands of a ruthless manipulator.
She couldn't ignore that the psychologist had her heart racing still, even eight months since he had rescued her from yearlong captivity as a sex slave. He completely captivated her as the Powerful Master Goliath; the decision to accept his offer was a no-brainer.
Mutually spellbound by the awakening of her submissive nature, she embraced the realization of being in control as he pushed her limits and demolished her boundaries. A burgeoning love flourished under his powerful mastery of her body as he too became subsumed by her sensuality.
As they explored the realm of lust, love, and trust, Bruce and Morgan soon realized that theirs was a common enemy who refused to allow them to let go of their past, forcing them to make difficult and life altering choices.
Lines blurred between friend and enemy as Precision Secure surged forward in their relentless pursuit of the leaders of The Sixth Order, unaware of the devastation their discoveries would deliver with unmasking the leaders of the most dangerous crime syndicate in the U.S.
Would Rhone and his team finally outmaneuver, outsmart, and overthrow the Syndicate to live free of their nefarious colluding, or would the team be outmaneuvered, outsmarted and overthrown?
How many more innocent lives would have to pay the price in their rise to power?
Editor's note:
A panty melting, teeth grinding, wince-inducing, heart swelling finish to the Club Devil's Cove Series. One minute you want to tear your own clothes off, the next you want to seek revenge on anyone who has ever wronged you, only to melt into a puddle of emotion; Basset takes you on a rollercoaster that you won't want to get off of, even after you've read the last word. A truly magnificent end to the series.
Wishing you all well and trust you will enjoy this story.
Best Regards
Linzi Basset
Preface
Club Devil’s Cove
If you liked Club Alpha Cove - this is the series for you!
Club Devil’s Cove is situated on the secluded, private Estate of Rhone Greer at the edge of Harmony Hall Park on the banks of Broad Creek, a tributary of the Potomac River in Washington DC. His best frien
d Keon LeLuc is co-owner and together they built a BDSM club to offer a safe and secure environment for members to practice their kink.
In this series, we meet Rhone Greer and Keon LeLuc’s friends, Jack Blackmore, Max Shaw, Lance Talbot, and Ethan Brodie. Under the disguise of their company, Precision Secure, they run undercover ops for the President of the United States. Along the way we meet their friend, Governor Alex White, Mistress Pamela Seeger who is in charge of the club’s legal aspects, Bruce Rickett, Keon’s cousin, war veteran Richard Almar, and the Club Manager, Wade Moore. Everyone as dominant and powerful as the other.
During this series of take-no-prisoners suspense novels, we come to know each of the Senior Masters—big, dominant men and their strong, sassy women, along with their kinks, as they carry on with their lives and fight against the pernicious grasp of crime syndicates, corruption, death and violence they are exposed to.
Catch up on Club Alpha Cove if you haven’t read it yet. Also available on Kindle Unlimited.
Click here to start reading now:
http://amzn.to/2wSmBnQ
Prologue
There’s April 2, 2003, Military camp in Nasiriya Iraq
“Sergeant Major Rickett with the 1st Battalion Alpha Company is geared up for rescue operation Ordnance, Lieutenant Colonel Lowell.”
The gray-haired man glanced up from the aerial map he was surveilling. He studied the young soldier who had soared up the ranks in a short time. Bruce Rickett had just turned twenty-six and didn’t believe in taking short cuts. He pushed his team hard and himself twice as much. More impressive was that during his years as one of the U.S. military’s rough and ready soldiers, he’d qualified as a psychologist. Something that stood in his stead as a leader of his own battalion in the Green Beret Special Forces Operations.
They were in Iraq on a clandestine guerrilla force rescue operation of soldiers in captivity by Al-Qaeda. Sergeant Major Jack Blackmore, who used to be in charge of 1st Battalion Bravo Company and good friend of Bruce, had been one of the twelve soldiers taken captive six months ago by the Al-Qaeda. He’d been rescued two days prior by Bruce’s battalion. It was based on Blackmore’s intel that they were now able to rescue the soldiers from the 507th Ordnance Maintenance Company captured by Iraqi troops on March 23, 2003, who were said to be in a holding cell in a hospital in Nasiriya. One of his friends from L.A., Jacklyn Long was among them.
“Intel is confirmed, Sergeant Major. The Hussein hospital had been cleared months ago and turned into an interrogation compound with holding cells for prisoners.”
“No patients or medical personnel in sight?”
Bruce watched Andrew Lowell return his attention to the small monitor in front of him. He squinted closer. His lips compressed briefly before he looked up.
“Only armed rebels.”
He’s lying. Bruce had an innate ability to read people, which was why he had chosen psychology as a career choice. He excelled at offering guidance to fellow soldiers so far away from home for years on end.
“We can’t afford to go in all guns blazing unless we’ve got confirmation it’s a hostile environment, especially if there are innocent bystanders involved.” Bruce pushed harder.
Lieutenant Colonel Lowell’s eyes turned glacial. “Get your battalion loaded on the truck, Rickett. You move and execute on my orders, is that understood?”
“Yes, Lieutenant Colonel.”
“Keep your earpiece active at all times. I’ll be following your movements via satellite. This is a very tight operation, Sergeant Major. Our soldiers are held captive at the back of the hospital. Once you breach the gate, split your team in four. Two around the sides to guard the back door for support and backup when you exit. The other two inside to search and rescue. I’ll guide you to the holding cell with the assistance of an overhead drone. When I give the order to move and go in hot, you execute immediately. One second delay could mean the death of our soldiers.”
“Understood, Lieutenant Colonel.”
“They’ve reinforced the entrance with steel. Blow the gate inward. It’ll give you the advantage to get inside before they can recoup. Ensure that your explosive expert is up front.”
Bruce briskly saluted his superior and marched toward the waiting troops.
“Lock and load. We move in one,” he ordered. He waited until the armed group of twenty men settled in the back of the military truck. “Follow the route we discussed, sergeant,” Bruce said to the driver as he settled in the passenger seat up front.
He was pensive all the way to the location. Something wasn’t right. His sixth sense warned him that his superior officer had withheld intel. He’d joined the military directly after school, choosing to study correspondence so that he could follow in his father’s footsteps as a soldier. It hadn’t been moonshine and roses, especially since he’d first been deployed to Afghanistan. This was his eighth tour within a period of five years, the fourth in Iraq. This was the third rescue operation he was involved with. It had been enough for him to realize he’d had enough. All the death and destruction he’d seen, the violence and hate weren’t what he’d signed up for. Following orders blindly, irrespective of his own beliefs, was becoming exceedingly difficult.
They parked a block away and moved in tactical formation toward the hospital. Bruce experienced another trickle of unease as he scrutinized the surrounding areas. There weren’t any guards posted on the walls or in front of the gate, which was unusual under the circumstances.
“Alpha Company in position,” he said into his earpiece.
“Hold position,” the LC’s voice gruffed in his ear.
Bruce flashed his fingers, directing the battalion to their various positions. He settled in with binoculars, once again perusing the wall. Barb wire had been added to the top and the steel bars crisscrossing the outside of the gate indicated it had been reinforced.
“Stay alert, Alpha Company. We’re in hostile territory,” he warned. It had happened too many times that their troops had been caught from behind in similar situations.
“EOD, prepare the gate.” Bruce watched as two of his men moved carefully in hunched format to set the explosives.
“Prepare to move in two,” the LC ordered.
Bruce didn’t respond; he couldn’t shake the unease that warned him something was about to go horribly wrong.
“Ready to move in five,” the LC’s voice rasped. Bruce slashed his fingers. His battalion eased into position. “Three, two, one. It’s a go. Go, now.”
“EOD go,” Bruce snapped and crouched down, protecting his ears. The Semtex ignited in a fiery ball of yellow flame, billowing inward, old nails became shrapnel and glass cut through the air as good as any blade. The faux-brick cladding shattered, casting red dust and projectiles into the hot air when Bruce and his team stormed through the gate.
He squinted to see through the billowing dust as he guided his team toward the hospital entrance from the directions the LC offered in his ear. From the corner of his eye, he noticed the injured and dead bodies scattered around.
“Move, SM! Approaching hostiles to your right.”
Again, his fingers flashed in warning and they took cover. He pushed the vision of what he thought he’d seen to the back of his mind as the first rebel turned the corner, guns blazing. He squeezed the trigger; the man staggered back, the automatic rifle clattered to the floor as the bullet through his shoulder paralyzed his fingers. Bruce never shot to kill unless absolutely necessary.
“Move,” he ordered and they continued through the hallways. His hand fisted above his head and they hunched down just outside the entrance of the ward where their soldiers were held captive.
“One hostile inside to your right. Move now, extract and exit through the back. Hostiles inward bound through the gate. Move, move!” the LC shouted.
Bruce led the way through the door, his first in command took out the hostile while the rest of them released the beat up and bruised soldiers from the chains. He searched the room.
“Jesus!” His voice thickened as his eyes fell on the woman chained to a bed in the far corner. Her hands were bleeding from open wounds where nails had obviously been pounded through skin and bone. Her face was unrecognizably beaten up, with one eye swollen shut. One side of her hair was cut off against her scalp, leaving raw, festering wounds where they’d brutally slashed a knife into her skull.
“Jacklyn?” he said in a soft voice, furiously yanking the chains loose. Her one eye fluttered open and she squinted at him. Tears flowed a red river down the dried blood on her cheek.
“Br-uce … thank g-god,” she gasped, falling back into unconsciousness with a hoarse cry of pain as he picked her up.
“Hostiles inbound. Move! Move!” the LC ordered loudly in his ear. With the sound of gunshots in his ear, he ran toward the backdoor, where a soldier held it open.
“Move, battalion!” he shouted hoarsely, satisfied that the rest of his team would follow on his heels. The final gunshots echoed in his ears as he made his way around to the front, circled by soldiers unburdened by hurt comrades. His footsteps slowed as they ran around the corner and the horror of what he thought he’d seen earlier became a reality.
Women, children, and the elderly were covered in blood, their bodies a pincushion for shards of glass. Some were impaled by sharp pieces of wood as their eyes stared sightlessly toward the sky. He could imagine the reflection of shock in their death gazes. His heart weighed heavy with guilt.
“Move, Rickett,” the LC shouted in his ear.
Bruce cast a final regretful look around before he took off at a fast sprint. They took the corner, heading toward the truck when all hell broke loose.
“Ambush! Down!” His cry came seconds before the first round of gunshots exploded around them. He lowered Jacklyn to the ground and returned fire. He froze when the muzzle of a gun pressed against the back of his head.