Page 20 of Auctioned

I lean into her.

And I kiss her.

She tastes like sin. She’s the reason I haven’t kissed another woman in years.

Having to be gentle is eating me alive. Keeping from biting on her plump bottom lip and making her bleed for me has my temples throbbing. The buyers can’t see that another man has had her.

Even if that man is me.

But—yes, there are other things I can do to her. Like coax her mouth open, despite how tight she shuts it.

There’s no saving herself from me.

I groan, and the sound is foreign to my ears. It doesn’t belong to the controlled man I am. The calculated one.

He’s gone now.

Kissing her has fucked with my psyche. For these few minutes that I swipe my tongue along hers and pull her closer—while she resists me—the civilized man in me checks out.

A beast has taken his place. I suck in her air, lick her, tilt her head to get deeper into her mouth. I squeeze her neck when she moans, when she groans and slams one hand to my chest.

Ever since I was born, my heart has been locked behind walls. Barricaded inside my chest. No one can get in here, not even my son.

I don’tlove. I don’tcare.

I might be responsible for some people, but that’s where it ends.

I don’t desire anything other than power.

A flash of irritation stabs at my gut. It resents the lie.

I desireher. Her lips. Her tongue. Her screams.

Her submission. She gives it to me, unable to resist the urge to please me once I’ve got her right where I want her. After I slide both hands into her hair.

Ophelia eases into me.

She kisses me back.

And that’s so good. Too good.

Hints of red wine and steak andherblend into my mouth.

Closed eyes and long lashes on rosy cheeks are everything I see.

Soft hair and a silk dress are all I feel as I slip my hand over her hip, pinning her body more tightly against mine.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

Fuck. What the hell am I doing?

She’s not mine. Never will be.

She sure as fuck isn’t supposed to enjoy this.

I wrench myself from her, scowling as I step back.

The pain of losing her warmth is uncanny, yet necessary.

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