Page 92 of Auctioned

I don’t know what this is. All I know is, “James.”

Six harsh smacks to my ass are a command. An order.

A reminder of what else I’m desperate for.

While I ride my orgasm, he builds another one within me, and I shove his cock into my mouth. He thrusts his hips up until the head hits my throat. I moan at the fullness in my mouth. At the sound he’s making against my pussy. At pleasuring this monster.

In the back of my head, I remember our conversation. What a horrible man he is. What awful things he did.

How he might lie.

How I’m not upset about it. Not really.

I need this.

Wrapping my hand around the base of his cock, with his mouth on my pussy, I start sucking him. I spit on him. I lick him. I gag on him.

Everything we’ve done in the cell, except now we’re in this new position. Now we’re in his bedroom.

“God, fuck. Ophelia. That thing you do with your tongue.” He pumps my pussy with his fingers while he talks. “Just like that. Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

He coats two fingers with my arousal. I realize too late that he’s lubing them, not pleasuring me. He uses my own juices to help him shove one finger, then two, into my ass, up to the first knuckle.

At the invasion, a scream rips from my mouth. I gag harder. Can hardly breathe. I’ve never had anything in my ass and now I have two thick fingers in there.

I have a cock in my mouth. The cock of a murderer. Of a man who kidnaps and then sells women.

A man my soul aches for.

“Suck harder.” He jerks his hips up, his thighs flexing under my fingers. “Take me down that pretty throat. Choke on me. Just like that. Yes. Yes. You’re such a filthy little thing. You’re going to come for me again. This way…” He bites the inside of my thigh. Groans when I cry out, when I take him like he ordered me to. “I might change my mind about killing you.”

Whether he means it or not is no longer relevant. What matters is his pleasure. His approval. He swells in my mouth, and I taste his precum. I gulp on it, desperate for more.

“Oh,fuck,” he groans and pulls my pussy to his mouth.

This has to be the sloppiest blow job ever. No rhythm to it. No rhyme.

Just my tongue flattening on his length, my lips squeezing his cock.

I hollow my cheeks because it seems like the logical thing to do. How more of him will go down my throat without me gagging. I do it while he finger-fucks my ass. While his tongue rubs at my pussy. His mouth sucking on my clit.

I’m done crying, but he doesn’t care. He groans and grunts against my wetness. He gives me everything I need for another orgasm to send ripples through my body.

“You’re mine to ruin,” James says when he’s drawn the last wave of my orgasm from me. “Make no mistake, Ophelia. I will ruin you.”

I don’t know what that means. He doesn’t offer any explanation.

James manhandles me again so brutally to sit on top of him without a shred of tenderness.

But he doesn’t shove me down his cock. I’m just there. For him to hold.

He’s a god, lying on his back, his taut abs on display. His furious glare aimed at me. An evil god.

Maybe I’m not worth that much to him.

“What?” I’m confused, clutching his chest. The despair in my voice is humiliating. “What do you want? Why aren’t you fucking me?”

“Don’t worry about that.” He grips my hips, rocks my wet pussy over his cock, once, twice, then, “Go lower. Let me look into those pretty eyes when your lips wrap around my cock.”

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