The crowd grows raucous, chanting ‘take it off’ over and over. Magnus appears like a showman, and within seconds he’s cut away the pathetic excuse for a dress, and the girl is naked as the day she was born.
“May I present to you all, Grace Ratcliffe.” Magnus announces in an amused tone.
I stare at her. At the curve of her breasts, the soft expanse of her stomach, the swell of her thighs. At the way her skin looks, pale and smooth in the brightlights. For the first time I’m allowing myself to see her as a woman, to see her asmypossession.
But it’s not the beauty that strikes me.
It’s thepiercings. I see them now, clearly. Silver loops, one through each nipple, with a tiny little diamond bell. The crowd must see it the same time I do, and they clearly delight in her new additions.
Conrad smirks, leaning over her, grabbing hold of her body. He pulls her in a way that ensures everyone sees what else I had done, what else I ensured would be healed and ready for when I got to fuck her.
The clit piercing.
It’s more magnificent than I could have envisioned.
She turns her face, her eyes squeezed shut, her lips pressed into a thin white line. She’s trying to endure, to maintain her dignity, but the horror is etched there for everyone to see.
She looks like prey caught in a trap, her terror palpable.
I feel a surge of possessiveness, a dark thrill.Mine.My eyes travel over her body, memorizing every curve, every detail. The bruises on her wrist from her struggle, the slight tremble in her thighs.
She is mine. All of her.
Magnus claps his hands, instantly demanding attention. “Opening bid, fifty million.” he calls out, his voice loud enough for every fucker to hear.
The starting price is high, but then, there has never been a prize quite like her. There’s never been a failed Chapter Lord’s virgin daughter before. I wet my lips, staring at her as my fingers itch to delve into all that plump flesh, as they itch to mark it, to bruise it.
A feverish scramble of voices rises as the bidding continues. I hear names, faces I don’t know, men vying for the right to own her, to claim her body.
I watch, my expression hidden behind the velvet curtain, my face a mask of impassive observation as the price climbs higher.
Men leer at her naked form, their eyes greedy to devour every inch while they can because they’ll never be able to do more than look, never be able to touch her.
And Grace, she endures it all. Her face is a mask of pain and humiliation, her eyes squeezed shut against the onslaught. She’s a frightened animal, trapped and helpless.
“One hundred million…”
I roll my eyes, knowing my man will outbid everyone here. I don’t even have to raise a paddle. There’s three of men in this race. But only one is not in my pay.
The other man waivers, and I can tell his pockets don’t go nearly as deep as mine do.
I jerk my head, ensuring the pressure remains. “One hundred and ten…”
“Sold.” Conrad bellows before the outsider can consider raising again.
Sold.
I clench then unclench my hands and slowly make my way through the crowd. I can see her being cut down, and she fights her both her shame and her exhaustion as Conrad wraps a robe around her body and as I step up. As I go to claim my prize, our eyes connect.
She freezes, her body stiffens and I think the last of her strength leaves her. I catch her before she hits the ground and toss her over my shoulder in a move I don’t want anyone here to mistake.
She’s heavy. Heavier than my other pets, but the weight feels so good. Finally, I have her. Finally this bitch is mine. She whimpers into my back as I carry her off, carrying her down the dark, mercifully silent corridor.
Perhaps she thinks it’s all over.
Perhaps she’s convinced herself that the auction was the worst part.
Poor little fool. She’s about to find out what all these years of waiting have been for.
