Page 6 of Sold to the Titan

My chest tightens at the word “home.” She probably doesn’t mean anything by it, but the thought of Aria in myhome, safe and away from this crazy hellhole, makes my heart swell with emotions I don’t want to explore right now.

I cup her face in my palm, giving her what I hope is a reassuring smile. “Yes, love. We can go home now.”

Chapter 3

Aria

I imagined a man like Cillian living in some cold stone mansion on the outskirts of town, so I’m surprised when he pulls up in front of a modern condo tucked in a calm suburban neighborhood. The inside of the house is just as nice, with cool furniture and abstract art. On a normal day, I’d want to look around and take it all in. But right now, I can barely keep my eyes open, every muscle in my body aching with exhaustion.

Cillian seems to notice. “Let’s get you to the guest room,” he says softly, his hand brushing my arm as he leads me through a hallway lined with doors. His touch is warm, grounding, and something in the way he moves—so deliberate, so sure—makes me feel oddly safe, like I’ve known him for a while. I know I have no reason to trust him—he just bought me at an auction, after all—but I can’t help it.

We stop at the end of the hall, and he opens a door to a cozy room with a large bed that cures my fatigue as soon as I look at it. I glance up to see Cillian watching me with that intensity that makes tingles shoot all over my body. Up close and in normal lighting, he’s somehow even more striking—broad shoulders filling out his perfectly tailored suit, his dark hair just slightly tousled, framing sharp, chiseled features. His eyes are the color of the sea, cold and deep, and I’m drowning in their depths.

He breaks our eye contact, disappearing into another room and returning with a stack of soft-looking clothes. “Here—something more comfortable to wear. Is there anything else you need?” His low baritone voice gently caresses my skin. I like the way he talks to me in soft tones, like he’s scared I might break or something.

I shake my head, managing a small, tired smile. “No, I’m fine. Thank you.”

Cillian nods. He gestures to the telephone on the nightstand. “If you need anything, just dial one. The maid will come, or I’ll check on you in a bit.” He hesitates, his hand lingering on the doorframe. For a moment, it’s as if he wants to say something else, but can’t find the words.

“Thank you,” I say, the words barely a whisper.

He nods, his gaze softening just a little. “Rest, love. You’ve had a long day.”

My heart skips a beat at the word “love.” Memories of the auction house flood my head, his big manhood pulsing violently in my palms, his deep erotic grunts as I ran my tongue along his length. It’d felt so good knowing that I could make him respond like that. I felt…powerful. Heat floods my cheeks at the thought. I never thought the day would come when I’d do something like that, and in front of all those people. But I only saw Cillian, the hard planes of his handsome face as he struggled to stay in control.

I look up to see Cillian watching me as if trying to figure out what’s going on in my head. His eyes have gone dark with a staggering hunger that sends a surprising thrill down my spine. I blush even harder, nervously biting my lower lip. His eyes drop to my lips, lingering meaningfully before returning his gaze to my eyes.

“Goodnight, Aria.” With a small nod, he turns and leaves, closing the door gently behind him.

As soon as the door clicks shut, I let out a deep sigh, immediately changing into the soft T-shirt and boxers Cillian provided and inhaling his scent that clings to the fabric. I kick the little red skirt away, hoping I never have to see it again, before collapsing onto the bed. I turn on my side and let the memory of the day wash over me again.

Everything that’s happened today—no, tonight—feels surreal, like a fantasy wrapped in a nightmare. Just yesterday, my life was ordinary, almost painfully mundane. I spent my days barely scraping by, chasing a dream that seemed more and more unrealistic. And now, here I am, in the guest room of a handsome stranger, wearing his clothes, after a night I never imagined living, let alone surviving.

I can still hear the voices of those men, shielded by that terrifying darkness, watching me. But Cillian was there at the auction too…and he paid a million dollars to own me. I should be terrified of him like I am of those other faceless men, but I’m not. Instead, thoughts of him invade my mind, slicing through the horrifying memories that threaten to pull me under.

I shiver, my cheeks heating as I remember the way his large hand guided mine over the bulge in his pants, how he looked at me, his face tight with restrained hunger. His deep, almost pained groans as he came…the way his body shuddered under my touch, that soft, possessive growl of pleasure. The thought alone makes a strange heat pool between my legs. I rub my thighs together in an effort to ease the ache building in my core.

What’s happening to me? I shouldn’t want to remember what happened tonight. But I do. Every last detail.

I sigh softly, burrowing deeper into the bed. It’s soft and luxurious, just like everything else in this house. I close my eyes again, letting my mind wander aimlessly, and of course all my thoughts are centered around Cillian.

I wonder what he does for a living.

He must be wealthy if he can afford to spend a million dollars on a whim.

I should try to find some information about him online.

He’s not the leader of some underground crime syndicate, is he?

I wouldn’t be surprised, though…he kinda fits the bill—a sexy crime lord.

The thoughts drift in and out of my mind, straying in and out of focus as I slowly give in to my exhaustion. I drift off to sleep, and I’m suddenly thrown back to the most horrifying part of the night.

I’m standing alone in the chapel, surrounded by a terrifying darkness. Faceless men leer at me, their voices echoing mockingly in my head. I try to scream, to run, but my body won’t move, trapped under the crushing weight of those stares. I look around desperately, murmuring Cillian’s name under my breath, but he’s nowhere to be found. He’s not coming to save me this time.

I open my eyes with a start, and find myself staring into Cillian’s endless blue eyes. He’s crouched beside the bed, his face inches from mine, his hand placed lightly on my shoulder.

“It’s alright,” he murmurs, his voice a steady, soothing rumble that makes my heart race for entirely different reasons. “You were having a nightmare.”

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