Page 14 of Mastered By Desire

I transfer sixty thousand dollars from my personal account to the club, with the noteAuction - Miss L. Not five minutes later, Betty knocks on the edge of my open door.

“It was fifty grand, Gage,” she says, “not sixty.”

“It’s a tip. Split the extra between Miss L and the boy.”

She snorts. “He has a name. He works here.”

“Yeah, I recognized him.”

Instead of wandering off, she says, “I was surprised you joined the bidding. Usually you just sit and watch.”

I always sit and watch the auction take place. I like watching the play of nerves on the faces of those on the block. I like watching the dynamic between different bidders, seeing what excites them. I’ve joined in bidding once or twice, mostly to stir up a sense of competition. I always put down my bid card before winning.

But tonight, something about the girl’s defiant lust got to me. And then something about that poor boy trying to gallantly “save” her pissed me off. I wanted to watch him defile her instead.

I must admit to myself, the experience was extremely satisfactory.

If Leah contacts me, I fully plan on doing something similar again. I toy with the idea of inviting another man, but Dmitri’s subtle anger and repressed lust made everything more thrilling. I might insist on his participation.

There’s no question as to whether he would be willing. I saw the way he looked at the girl—he wouldn’t be able to resist.

I say farewell to Betty and leave the office, knocking on Margot’s door to wish her goodbye, as well. Everyone knows Margot owns Vice and Low Vice. Almost nobody knows that she has two secret partners. I am one, and Betty is the other.

The sun is rising by the time I reach my penthouse. I shut the door behind me and exhale, surveying the open floor plan—living room to one side, kitchen and dining room at the other. Large windows overlooking San Esteban.

I cross the living room to the hallway, entering my bedroom. Here, the giant picture windows are covered with light-blocking blinds. It’s dark, cool. Peaceful. Private.

Shedding my clothes and setting my glasses carefully on the nightstand, I fall onto my bed fully nude. I take my cock in hand, imagining the way that beautiful girl rubbed her sweet cunt back and forth over my thigh. How desperate she was, how agonized by her lust. Her bright blue eyes had flecks of amber near the pupil, and those eyes widened in surprise whenever she met Dmitri’s gaze.

She didn’t seem to think herself worthy of his attention, but she didn’t seem to have issues with self-confidence otherwise.

It takes a strong person to get up on the auction stage. Brave, too.

And when some degenerate requested that she remove her underwear and pass them around…fuck, that reminds me.

Getting up, I grab those black panties from my suit pocket. Much better. I use them to tease my cock, rubbing the silky fabric over the head, imagining her silky lips there, teasing me. I drive myself half-mad, remembering how I denied her orgasm for the longest time while she sucked Dmitri’s cock. My lust builds and builds. I picture her face, twisted in pleasure when she finally found her release.

And when I finally allow myself to come, I can’t help but exhale her name.

“Leah.”

Leah

Two days have gone by since the auction at Low Vice. I sit at my kitchen table, proofreading an essay. It’s hard to concentrate, though. I haven’t been able to stop fantasizing about Gage, about Dmitri, about everything we did. It was so freaking hot, I’ll take those memories to the grave.

Gage’s business card and the collar and belly chain are still hidden away in my coat pocket. The couple of times I’ve gone out since the auction, I’ve found myself touching the card’s crisp edges as often as I touch the jewelry. Their presence brings me an extra sense of peace.

In the afternoon, Mick gets up from the couch and stretches. “I’m going out. Don’t wait up for me. I have a date.”

I should’ve guessed—the only time he washes his hair is when he’s going out.

“Have fun,” I say from where I was working at the kitchen table. I don’t give two shits about his dates.

He squints at me.

Acting like I don’t care is probably not the right call, so I add, “Well, we should go out sometime, too. We haven’t been on a date in a while.”

“Yeah, sure.” He grabs his keys and is gone.

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