Page 80 of Auctioned

I pour metaphorical ice on my overheated body and face her.

“Ophelia. Now, where were we?”

15

OPHELIA

Some people are monsters. One hundred percent cruel, evil, neglectful monsters. They’ll call you names or punch you for no reason whatsoever. Do everything in their power so you know you mean nothing to them.

They’ll never show kindness or compassion to anyone. No softness will ever shine through when they look at you, simply because it doesn’t exist within them.

I met those people during my years in foster care.

James isn’t a monster, as much as he likes to pretend otherwise.

He’s rough and cruel. Cold and careless.

Deep down, he has a soft spot for me.

And I…

I hate him.

I also…

Fuck.

The manhandling. The torture. The humiliation. Sucking him off and letting him force one orgasm after another out of me in exchange for food and water. As a way to stay on his so-called good side.

My hatred for him has been dying out one visit at a time.

Our routine has the unfortunate effect of grounding me. Of calming me.

They’ve been growing on me.

Hehas been growing on me.

More than growing on me. Much more than that.

Butterflies flutter in my tummy whenever I hear his footsteps approach. Being fed by him, being at his mercy, gets me hot for hours after he leaves my cell. In the short time I’ve been here, I’ve been anxiously looking forward to his visits.

As sick as it is.

I don’t have it in me to truly hate him.

Even now. Even when he’s squeezing my throat mercilessly. When everything about him promises violence.

I want him.

I’m so, so very fucked.

Because I’m getting attached to him. And he might—who am I kidding, probably will—end up killing me.

What a cruel joke. I was about to break up with Topher because he wouldn’t fuck me.

James will most likely do it soon. He’ll give me what I want from him and no one else.

After that, we’ll be done. I’ll be done.

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