Page 9 of Enthrall Ecstasy
A voice boomed behind us as guests raised their hands and yelled out their generous bids to win one of us. I heard a low rumble of voices as they shared their thoughts with each other about which sub they wanted.
Goosebumps rose on my forearms.
A familiar nervous tremble shook my limbs.
This was my chance to prove I belonged, to make Faulkner proud and let him see that I was ready for this level of play. Let him see he could bring me back time and time again to this secret place.
My heart pounded against my chest.
I scanned the crowd to see if I could guess who might want me, taking in one intimidating Dom after another.
Then I saw him.
He stared back at me with his seductive eyes peering through a plague doctor mask. If the guy was going for scary, he’d succeeded. He looked downright evil in that hooked disguise. Yet his sinister look did something to me, making me heady.
The devil himself wanted me.
He continued to stare with an unmatched intensity.
His impressive height added to his intimidation. He had the muscular physique of someone who was beyond fit. He looked like he could lift me with ease—throw me over his shoulder and carry me off.
He looked like a man who knew how to fuck.
Of all the men here, he stood out.
Thinking he wanted me made my heart skip, touching my soul.
With a subtle nod, I let him know I wanted him to bid on me.
He shook his headno.The long beak exaggerated his movement.
Doubt crept in as I watched him fold his arms across his chest, as if I wasn’t the one he was after.
My appearance was an acquired taste. I knew that. My hair was an unusual color and my curves made me stand out, waist pulled in tight to emphasize my hips. I was the curvy one, a full-figured woman contrasting with the slender women here.
The tall and hopefully handsome stranger behind that disguise had tucked his hands into his pockets as though he were merely a bystander.
He watched my fate with a cold indifference.
I’d never bid on a woman during one of these events.
Didn’t need to.
Ever.
Fuck to the noif you think I’d waste my hard-earned money on a woman I could make mine with the snap of my fingers. Bidding was something for billionaires to indulge in.
Women came to me willingly.
Always.
Throwing money at a problem like this—a wayward submissive who had waded in over her head—wasn’t usually my jam.
After tonight, the girl would be out of my stratosphere.
This wasn’t the same crowd you got at Enthrall. This was an entirely different brand of elite. I’d already witnessed a few members snorting cocaine.
Like some of the high assholes bidding on Rue—using Bitcoin, a hundred K’s worth. No doubt she would find it flattering.
