Page 67 of The Games We Play

The man’s eyes widen, and I clench my fists to keep my hands from shaking.

“That is a rarity, indeed. Although she is scarred,” he eyes the X on my chest and tsks. “What’s the price?”

Dad snorts. “You’d make an offer without having it inspected?”

The man huffs and shrugs his shoulders. “Something as valuable as this—once word gets out, I won’t stand a chance.”

Dad extends his arm and offers my leash to the man. He licks his lips.

“No! Dad, please,” I beg. His hand flies up and squeezes my cheeks, jerking me around so our backs are to the crowd.

“One more outburst and I will give the orders. Do you want Roxy’s blood on your hands?”

I swallow, and my eyes burn. If I cry, I know it won’t go over well. Mustering every bit of willpower I have, I straighten my spine and try to imagine I am anywhere but here.

“Good,” Dad praises loudly, and we turn to face the man. “Lincoln.”

The stranger nods and takes my leash. He leads me to the center of the dance floor, and I glance around us as women in high heels and beautiful jewelry dance with grace. They’re seductive, using their bodies like fine-turned instruments.

Lincoln takes my leash and hand in one of his while his other snakes around my waist and pulls me flush against him. “You seem distracted, dear. Tell me, what are your hobbies, hmm? What do you like to do when nobody is watching?” His hand slides down, and I stiffen. Dad is watching me. His gaze burns into my back.

What am I expected to say? What is a suitable answer?

Swallowing my revulsion, I place my hand on his shoulder and let him lead me in time with the music. Aside from standing on my father’s feet as a child, I’ve never formally danced in my life. I step on Lincoln’s toe, and he adds space between us but doesn’t let me go.

“You’re not the talkative type. Not a total disappointment,” he mutters. “But this scar,” He shakes his head. “How did someone as beautiful as you come across that nasty thing?”

Nasty? How could he think of something as meaningful and intimate as nasty?

“It was carved on my chest with a knife, marking me to show whom I belong to,” I answer, heat rushing to the surface of my skin as I think of X.

Lincoln chuckles and twirls me around. “After tonight, I’ll be carving an L right along here.” His finger drops between us and skims just above my pubic bone. “Then you’ll know who you really belong to.”

I stiffen, and my eyes burn. No. I won’t. I can’t let that happen. There is no way Dad would ever go through with this, right? Even a man as twisted as him has to have limits. He can’t auction off his own daughter.

“Lincoln,” Dad says, and the man removes his hands and steps back, acknowledging my father.

“She is something,” another man says off to Dad’s side. His black mask has intricate gold designs along the contours of his cheek and brow bones.

“Douglas,” Lincoln greets, and the masked man nods.

What is the point of these masks if everyone knows each other already?

Lincoln returns my leash to Dad before leaving, and I’m introduced to the next man.

Dad glances around the crowd like this exchange is merely an afterthought. Douglas takes my leash and leads me across the dance floor to a plush velvet couch in a dark corner.

“I’ve seen you dance,” he says with disgust in his tone. “Let’s hope your body feels better than it moves. You may be Darius’ daughter, but your name alone won’t convince me to buy you tonight.”

Thirty-Four - Tess

Repulsion rolls through meas I straddle Douglas’ lap, and his hands move my hips backward and forward across his crotch.

“How many have you fucked with this cunt? Most of the men here keep their girls pure. It makes them morevaluable,” he purrs in my ear, and I shudder. “Did Darius keep you locked up, too?”

“No,” I growl, hating my father more and more with each passing second. “I’ve been thoroughly fucked, and it takesa lotto impress me.”

His fingers dig into my hips, and he thrusts up against my center. “You’re experienced. Good. That means I don’t have to teach you how to take my cock like a fucking slut.”

---