Page 87 of Auctioned

Except it isn’t as comforting as I would like.

Because a man’s arm is draped over me. I feel it now that I’m fully awake.

I swallow around the lump in my throat.

James’s arm. His tattooed hand presses possessively over my stomach.

Oh my God.

Fear, darker than this room, darker than the night outside, clutches onto my lungs. Locks my throat.

James took me out of the cell.

Hasn’t raped me.

And now he’s cuddling me in what has to be his bed.

Why?

The why is important. The why is crucial.

It’s another game. Just another game.

Even if I’ve grown on him, the same way he’s managed to crawl under my skin.

I did fuck with his head, his words, not mine.

He’s going to punish me. Hurt me.

Kill me.

Have any idea why you’re here? Know who was the last woman I held captive?

Topher’s mom. Hisdeadmom.

I’m going to be sick.

“Ophelia.”

The scream that bursts out of me is deafening. My hands become claws, nails scratching and digging into his perfect, lean, and veiny forearm.

It’s all instincts. All my will to fight and survive this.

He’s strong, yanking me to the front of his body. My naked back molds into his naked stomach as I keep digging my nails into his arm.

Naked.

I’m completely naked. His hard body is too.

“Let me go.” Common sense slips away as one thought after the other assault me. I want to be with him. I shouldn’t. He kidnapped me. He could throw me back in the cell. Have to get out. Have…to…get…out. “Let me go. Let me go. Let me go!”

“Shh.” James slides his hand up to my breastbone. Large, strong fingers press between my breasts. Unmoving. Warming. Comforting. What the hell is this? Another trick. Of course it is. “Shh. Stop screaming. Breathe. Just breathe. You’re safe.”

His voice is bare of emotions. Which, I guess, is smart of him.

I would’ve thought he was manipulating me if he sounded too soft. Too harsh, and I’d be sure he’d kill me.

But he is lying.

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