Something twisted inside of me, a wave of unexpected and unwanted hunger. Fuck. I forced myself to look away, idling with my drink while my cock continued to twitch and Reese’s face formed lurid images in my mind.
Things almost got out of hand, the man’s brutality as disturbing as everything else. Lucifer motioned for one of his men, who finally pulled the girl from his lap. I didn’t bother listening to what was said to the naughty club member as I didn’t care.
I could tell given the incident the young women finally began to understand what was at stake. Steven made an appearance, admonishing the women to the point they were instantly quiet, hovering together. Fuck me. This was a nightmare.
I couldn’t take much more of this.
One by one, the girls were bid on and won. As I watched the men make their selection, I noticed one bidder who’d remained quiet and unmoving the entire time. The man who I was certain had been told to watch me carefully. Ah, I could see a game was about to be played.
His eyes were pinned on Reese, studying her even more intently than I’d done. And in those seconds of realization, a flash of jealousy was tossed aside by an extreme feeling of possessiveness. As if she already belonged to me.
What the fucking hell? Was this how indoctrination was started? The competition to have the most beautiful woman in the room. Wars had been lost over women.
“And now, we have our final contestant for the evening. Star. Perhaps the star of the show. Let’s start the opening bid at one hundred thousand.”
The words hit me. Yes, she was the star. And the man seated next to be appeared very hungry.
With a quick glance in my direction, he raised his arm, nodding to the auctioneer.
The twisted competition between us was on.
“Do I hear two?”
Another man who’d been idly waiting made the bid. It would seem her blonde beauty had attracted three men determined to claim her.
To own her.
“Two hundred thousand to the man on the left,” the auctioneer shouted. “Do I hear three hundred?”
The dollar amounts quickly increased, now at five hundred thousand.
Star was frozen, her body slightly swaying and her resolve beginning to fade. She was so young and so helpless that I ached for her.
Yet the rage was more intrusive.
So was the hunger furrowing inside, creating an entirely different kind of need. This I hadn’t planned, the desire unwanted.
Did I have a budget? Of sorts. Did I care? Not a chance in hell.
A bidding war ensued between the two other bidders, bids increasing by hundred thousand dollar increments while I watched from the shadows.
“One million dollars,” the quiet bidder on my left threw out and even with a mask, I sensed by the look being tossed in the other man’s direction, he was sending a clear message to back the fuck off.
As instructed, the other bidder threw up his hands.
“I will need a moment with the merchandise,” the bidder stated.
I resisted playing my hand or daring to interact, although I realized my hand was fisted as the pressure of the bidding war had collided with my goal for the evening. Now I wanted to win, but not for the sake of winning.
For the finality of ownership.
Or her.
At first, it would seem Star was willing to comply, allowing herself to be led from the stage. When she was brought closer, her eyes found mine again. Maybe I was the only one who noticed or perhaps the only person in the room capable of understanding the smirk crossing her lovely face.
Or her intentions.
She bolted toward the door, the move so unexpected not a single person in the room immediately reacted.
