Page 197 of Auctioned

“I’ll scream.”

“Try that. Please do.”

She’s pliant beneath me, lets me thrust her hips into the desk, pin her there with my legs while I remove my tie.

“Scream, cry. I don’t give a fuck. I won’t stop punishing you. The entire office could come walking through this door. I’ll still have you like this. Bound. At my motherfucking mercy.” My tie is around her wrists, locking them together. My cock jerks at how beautiful she looks. “Until you remember who you belong to.”

“So you’re not denying it?” She raises her face from the desk. I shove it back down.

I wait to see what other bullshit I’m dealing with here. What I need to take care of as her owner.

“You won’t keep me after we’re done.” Her huff is full of agony. Her huff deepens my hatred for Topher. “You’re using me for sex. To fuck babies into me. Have a new family. Then you’ll send me away.”

No sobs from my woman. The hurt, however, is evident in her voice. In her desperation to hear how much I love her.

I’m trying to stay calm. Fuck, am I trying.

She’s gorgeous. She needs me to tell her once and for all that, no, I won’t send her away once she gives me a child. That, yes, she’s my entire universe.

She won’t listen to my words, though. Actions, that’s what she needs right now. I rock my hips into her, furious at the layers of clothes separating us. I keep at it anyway, hurting her as I push her to the desk.

“I hate you! Why won’t you say anything?”

She loves me. Loves what I’m doing to her. Poor thing can’t help it.

“Your accusations, Sonnet.” Another thrust. She moans when her clit bangs into the desk. “Have a new family. Throw you out. Why would I do that?”

“You’ll have a new bloodline.” The words are breathy. “Kids who won’t want to kill you. I won’t be there, so you’ll have one less thing to worry about.”

“That’s a plus, sure.”

She’s distracted by my taunting, glaring into my eyes while I remove my belt.

“That’s why you’ll get rid of me.”

Her hair is a mess. The makeup on her hidden eye has to be smudged. A couple of phone calls to professionals will take care of that after we’re done.

After she learns a lesson she seems to have forgotten.

She. Is. Mine.

“You’re confused, Miss Monroe.” Temporarily, if I have anything to do with it. Which I do. I lift her head by her chignon. Slip the belt between her and the desk. Put her head back, her mouth on the leather. “That’s understandable. Today is your first time out of the house in a very long time. It could get overwhelming.”

“Hate”—she lets me position the belt better, to open her mouth so it’ll fit there—“you.”

Her lipstick smears on my belt.

“I brought you to my office for a reason.” I tug on her gag, buckling it behind her head. She looks ethereal. An animal. My prey, wriggling to get out from under me. She looks like mine. “Let everyone see you. Let them know you’re here to stay. That I don’t give a shit about what anyone says. You belong to me.”

That slows her harsh breaths. I grind my hips to her, reaching for a drawer in my desk. Taking out a metal ruler and shutting the drawer with more force than necessary.

“That’s why Topher fucked with your head.” I scrunch her skirt up her thighs.

My free hand shoves her tights down her legs. Then I trace the curve of her round ass, squeezing the soft flesh.

So sexy. So bare of welts and red marks. I’ve been neglecting her, and it’s my fault. Heat spreads through my body as I slip a finger under her black thong, lifting it, and snapping it back on her crack.

Fuck, that’s satisfying. Her pain. Her surprised cry.

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