Page 123 of Auctioned

Chaos. Mess.

We don’t make sense.

Except we do.

She’s strange. An enigma.

And she’ll be here while I’m in the office. Alone for another week without the staff.

I ordered them to extend their time at the hotel. I trust them to keep a secret, to take extra care when it comes to her.

That’s not it.

I’m the problem. I’m nowhere near done playing with my new toy.

I was delusional, thinking I could get rid of her. That all I wanted to do was fuck a baby into her.

She’s mine. Plain and simple.

“Good morning.” Her voice is as soft as her footfalls. “You’re up early.”

“Always am.”

The dusk’s orange light bleeds into the room. Any day now, it’ll start snowing. Orange will be traded for white light. The snow will reflect the sun, blending into the gray.

A few feet separate us. Six. Three. She stops there, her bedridden hair loose around her shoulders. Her small body hidden under one of my white T-shirts.

She can come closer. I’m aching for her to touch me.

But I can tell she’s scared. Scared and turned on. I see it in her questioning eyes. Hear it in her shallow breaths.

Ophelia scrunches the hem of her T-shirt. “What’s wrong?”

She ignores or doesn’t notice the device in my hand.

Or maybe she does notice it. Maybe that’s why she stays at a safe distance.

“What’s wrong is you’re not naked, Ophelia.” I’m a monster. I’m turning everything into a game. I’m hurting her. Pain flashes over her eyes. She blinks it away. “What’s wrong is you’re being my filthy fucking property. Standing there, instead of spreading your legs. Instead of offering me your pretty cunt, like the whore you are.”

She gulps. Her nipples are taut. “You want me that bad?”

Every minute of every day. Being hard for so long is torture.

I say nothing.

“So. What was going through your head when you looked out there?” Another hesitant step toward me. She’s being a brat. Defying me. Taunting me. Prying into my soul. “Tell me.”

Her scent carries over to me. It’s sex. My shampoo.Her.

Fuck.

Throughout the week, I haven’t shared many more of my secrets with her. Other than a few words yesterday, I’ve offered her nothing, really, in terms of stories. A sick part of me still needs to test her.

Then dominate every aspect of her life.

She has been good, though. I owe her something.

“When I was young, I hated watching the seasons change.” My hand fits around her nape and I haul her to me. Kiss her sweet mouth that tastes of mint. Lick her tongue that tastes like mine. “They taunted me. My father upped his torture the older I got. And though I aged, it felt like I was never old enough to leave him. Turning eighteen got me out of that house, but I still had to wait until I was twenty-one. Each season meant nothing but darkness. I could never see the light. Eventually, I stopped caring for it.”

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