Page 5 of His Public Claim
“Sold to the wolf!” The auctioneer smirks. “Your payment, if you will.” He produces a tablet and it’s only a few quick strides to get to him, my gaze on Nicole all the time as I sign away five million on the most priceless jewel: my little mouse.
“Thank you and congratulations?—”
Not waiting for his platitudes, I stride to the dais and Nicole’s eyes go big and terrified as I approach without breaking step.
Powering forwards, I scoop her up, tossing her over my shoulder and continue. She’s light and soft and squeaks with surprise, but she doesn’t complain. Her peachy bottom is right beside my face, but I don’t pause to kiss it, or appreciate her long legs trapped securely between my arm and my chest.
I’m getting the fuck out of here. Jumping down from the platform, I head for the exit.
“Mr wolf!” the auctioneer calls after me.
I keep going.
“Ah-ah!” Somehow, the cobra is ahead of me, his sing-song voice infuriating.
“Get out of my way.” There’s something about this air of excessive luxury and vice that brings out my roughest nature. I know they’re expecting me to do the deed here, but I’m banking on the plan David and I came up with: just walk out with Nicole.
“You can’t take her away yet,” the cobra says with exaggerated snide patience.
“I bought her, she’s mine.” It feels far too good, too true, to say that.
Nicole is mine.
“I decide where to deflower her.”
“Oh no,” he laughs. “Until she’s thoroughly fucked for the first time, she’sours. Why do you think we like the masks? So we can entertain ourselves in the purest anonymity.”
“No.” I go to push past, but the cobra draws a handgun, his lip curling.
“You have to take her here. With everyone watching.”
Fury pulses through me.
“You haven’t attended one of our little events before, have you, wolf?” the cobra continues, the barrel of his gun pointed right at Nicole’s skull.
I grit my teeth. No, I haven’t been to this glittering hellhole before. It might all be expensive, but it’s devoid of morals.
So are you, a voice in the back of my head taunts me.You want Nicole for yourself. You want to take her virginity and you don’t want to share.
He laughs. “I think you’ll find that the spectacle after the auction is even better than during.”
“No.” I barely remember to disguise my accent, slipping into my more natural Russian tone. I have to use the refined North London accent I’ve learned to adopt when doing business with some of the more snobby mafias. “We’re leaving.”
Nicole is gripping the back of my suit jacket now, and she’s shaking. Scared.
I have to get her out of here.
As I take a step forward, all around us there’s the snick of safeties being cocked. I halt, and glance from left to right. At least a dozen guns are pointed at my chest. I swallow.
Realisation creeps over me.
I can’t get her to safety. If I tried to run with her, I wouldn’t make it more than three steps and getting myself killed won’t help Nicole.
I won’t let anyone else touch her.
The only option is to take the virginity of my best friend’s little sister myself. Now. In front of everyone.
Slowly, I turn, and feel Nicole’s chest heave in a sob at my back as I clench my jaw and return the way we came, the cold silver of guns still trained on us.
