Page 141 of Auctioned

She deserves something because?—

Because—

Damn it.

Because she’s her. Because she’s mine.

Oh, so very mine.

She’s beautiful. Moaning and writhing beneath me. Freed from the ankle cuff, my clever little thing.

She’s open and bare, her soul on display.

I owe her something.

“I was worried. Scared.” My honesty tastes foul on my tongue. I slow my thrusts, but I don’t back down. Bunching her shirt up to see her breasts, I sink deeper into her. Thicken inside her. “When I saw the cuff in the living room. When I didn’t see you. You could’ve been out there.” I emphasize the last word. Feel the pressure of the pen easing up on my neck. “Away from me, which was bad enough. But more than that.”—thrust—“Hurt, Ophelia. They could’ve hurt you.”

A few moments pass. Minutes where I rut into her, fuck my aggressions into her. Minutes that she stares up at me, tears glistening in her eyes.

“I can defend myself,” she breathes out. Presses the pen harder into me to prove it, her eyes narrowing, then softening. She lets two tears slip. “But thank you.”

“Sure you can.” I rub her clit with my thumb. Stroke her. Pinch her.

She’s done arguing, clenching so prettily around me. Her nipples are peaked and her tits bounce from the force of my thrusts.

I’m focused on pleasuring her. Addicted to watching her, then us, the spot where our bodies connect. Despite the pen. Despite the constant threat hanging over our heads.

“Look at you.” My eyes find hers. Lock on them. “Making a mess of my cock. Crying for me like I actually care. Like I’ll save you.”

I let go of her throat, flattening my hand on the desk. Just in time. A second before she comes all over me. The fresh wave of air heightens her climax, and she gasps, screaming my name, her pussy squeezing me.

“Break the skin,” I demand over her moans. Over my lust. Over the sounds of our bodies slapping together. She has to do it. Has to be violent and ready to fight, no matter what. “Break the fucking skin, Ophelia.”

Her lips part in shock. “Why?”

“Because I said so.” Because you have to be ready to kill. Soon.

My command is enough for her. While I thrust into her, I feel it. A tiny prickle. A sting that hardly registers.

Warm liquid drips down the collar of my shirt.

The pen drops to the desk.

The clattering sound is muted. Distant.

I’m so turned on that the world ceases to exist. I bring my throat to her mouth. Her lips brush over my wounded skin while I plow into her.

“Suck.” I’m leaving her no choice. I’m being rough. A bastard. She won’t regret hurting me. I won’t let her. “Suck. Now.”

“You’re insane.” Finally, her lips press. Her mouth sucks. Teeth latch on to me.

Ophelia makes a hungry, feral sound.

That’s my girl.

“Enough.” I straighten, towering over her.

My focus rests entirely on her. On how good it is to be wrapped up by her body. Be lost in her deep, dark eyes. Her plump, crimson-red lips. The tears that have almost dried. Her pussy that’s so goddamn sweet.

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