Page 22 of Auctioned

“Why?” Courage flashes across her face. Anger.

She’s a bold little one.

I won’t have it, won’t lose my edge, no matter how hot she is.

Time to instill fear in her. Show her I’m not playing.

“Topher said you were a virgin.”

She gasps. Goosebumps race up her delicate arm. Her pulse hammers beneath my thumb.

“Unfortunately for you, I can’t take his word for it.”

Her pupils are enormous. She’s stopped blinking.

“I’m going to have to see for myself.”

5

OPHELIA

Hope.

The cursed emotion bled into my fear and desperation when James kissed me.

His lips moved in such a sensual way against mine. The swipe of his tongue was a promise. His hands an anchor.

You’re mine.

He didn’t say it. Didn’t have to.

Possessiveness bled from his every move. The way he held me. Handled me. Coaxed my lips open.

James Hawthorne wasn’t Topher’s cold and distant father in those moments. Not the mysterious, older man I’d met over dinners.

My jailer was gone.

There was only violence. Ownership. A savior who’d take me away from this hell I’d been thrown into.

I hoped so.

I let myself submit to this hope.

Worse still. I let myself believe it.

Foolish. I’m so foolish I could cry.

There’s no savior here, in this cell.

There’s cruelty. Now that he’s done kissing me, I see it for what it is.

His expression is set in stone.

Cruel eyes. Vicious grip.

It feels like I’m staring at him through the looking glass. Ice slices down my spine, and I shiver. I hate that I do. I hate that his lips twist into a fleeting smirk.

“See for yourself?” I say when the silence becomes intolerable.

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