Page 128 of Auctioned

When I’m done, I tuck myself in, remove the butt plug and help her to her back. She’s sprawled on the floor, hooded eyes staring up at me. Her cheeks are tear-streaked, her hands outstretched.

Toward me.

As I bend in to kiss her—to murmur against her lips that she’s such a good girl—I finally see us for what we are.

She’s put her life in my hands. In the hands of a dark and twisted man. One whose sense of right and wrong has been distorted for far too long. A man who’ll cherish her, in his own way.

And I’m the one who’ll give her what she’s asking for.

“Be right back.” Her face is a picture of trust and calm as I stride to the sink.

A clean cloth waits for me there, which I soak in warm water from the tap. I return to her, trailing it along her flesh, wiping her thighs and pussy clean.

“Perfect.” I place a kiss on her swollen clit, and she yelps, then releases a relieved sigh. She lets me dress her in her shirt. I help her to her feet and cup her cheeks. “Have a good day, Sonnet. Don’t have too much fun without me.”

Her eyebrows lower. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Yes, of course.” Pretending to be polite messes with her head. I can tell. I get off on that. “I gave the staff another week off. You’ll have the house all to yourself until I’m back.”

“Ha-ha, very funny.” Creases line her smooth brow. Eyes darting to the floor, then me. “Release me. I’m not some animal. This isn’t right.”

“And return to an empty house?” I sound genuinely concerned. I sound like a fucker. “I don’t think so.”

“This house is impenetrable.” Her voice rises. There they are—the fists at my chest. Small, adorable blows. “I can’t get out.”

“That’s true. But I’ll be really fucking hard knowing you’re shackled. Waiting for me.” I let my knuckles trail the delicate line of her jaw. “You’re here to please me, Ophelia. This pleases me.”

“You’re serious.” She stops punching me, her eyes searching mine. “You’re fucking serious. Are you still upset that I’m messing with your head? I thought we were over it.”

“You’re perfect.” Stepping away from her hurts worse than any of her blows. “That’s why you’re here and not in the cell. The chain is long enough to reach the guest bathroom and the living room. I left the heater on, but if you’re cold, you have throw blankets, sweatpants with a zipper on the leg, and a sweater on the couch.”

“Come back! James!” she screams to my back. “You can’t do this to me!”

I turn in the archway between the kitchen and living room. “You did so well with the butt plug. You ended up enjoying it. You’ll enjoy this too. Because I asked you to.”

“You never asked me to,” she spits after I start crossing the hallway toward the stairs.

Something hard hits my leg. I twist to stare down at the butt plug I placed on the counter. I smirk at it, then at her.

“I’ll be home before you know it, darling.”

Her hands are on her waist. Head shaking in disbelief. Soon she’ll understand. Soon, she’ll like it.

“Early, just like I promised you.”

“I hate you.”

Strange thoughts fill my head as I look at her.

My heart cracks in my chest for needing you so badly. My bones sing your name. Being away from you will be absolute agony. I can’t wait to be home and find you here, chained and waiting for me.

What’s come over me?

No idea.

Better not dwell on it before work. Before a day of having to fake not having a captive woman waiting for me at home.

“You’ll get over it.”

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