Page 182 of Auctioned

Ophelia whimpers, “Please. No more. Can’t take it.”

Oliver’s attention on her intensifies.

While I eye him, the motherfucker is too busy imagining my woman naked to be plotting anything against us.

If he suspected anything, he wouldn’t be so lost in her. I’m thankful for the expensive bra that hides her nipples.

“Go.” His head snaps to me at my harsh tone. Curiosity flashes in his brown eyes. “Inside. Before it starts raining again.”

“James is right. We’ll continue the conversation there.” He steps closer, outstretching a hand.

About to put it on the small of her back.

Pulling her away from him is risky.

It’s an uncontrolled impulse.

“Up the stairs,” I bark, creating a diversion. “Fast. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Ophelia’s fake whimper is such a turn-on. I put aside the need to bend her over.

“After you, Oliver. Of course.”

He must be connecting the dots as he climbs the stairs and strolls into the house.

The days I’d spent alone at home. The metaphorical walls I added to keep the world out.

In a sick mind like his, the picture he must come up with is that I tortured Ophelia here. I’ve successfully led him to believe that I had my pretty little property locked against her will. Raped. Trained.

Ophelia whimpers again, and this time, it isn’t an act. It’s from my hand that’s about to snap her swan-like neck.

“I said, fast.” It’s not an apology. It’s the only thing I have.

I push her up the stairs, catching her when she slips. And in that short pause, my gaze bores into hers.

I’m fucking sorry.

Humiliation looks hot on you.

You’re such a good girl.

What actually comes out of my mouth is, “Stop embarrassing me.”

She stares at me beneath her thick lashes. Her eyes glint like a million diamonds scattered across the skies. “I’m sorry, owner.”

This girl. Her mouth. My dick is about to tear through my pants. I shake off the feeling and drag her into the house.

Oliver shrugs off his coat and hangs it in the coatroom, never taking his eyes off us. I don’t offer him small talk or an explanation, staying quiet until we’re in the living room.

Two armchairs are positioned exactly as I set them, next to the fireplace and close to each other. One for me. One for him.

Within arm’s reach.

I release Ophelia’s neck, dipping my chin. “Remember your training?”

“Yes.” Her voice is low. Hands clasped at her front.

“Is this the part where she gets down on her knees?” Oliver’s violent nature is out in the open. He’s been waiting for this opportunity for years. “It’s been a long day in the office. I could use having my dick sucked right about now.”

---