Page 63 of Auctioned Surrender

She turns slowly, and her eyes are a myriad of swirling emotions. “I’m not the type of dominant who likes lies, secrets, or a woman’s eyes downcast. I want to know and see what she’s feeling, every single minute, okay, Princess?”

Layla’s audible intake of air is telling, as is the color in her fingers from grasping the wine glass harder. “You’ve misread the signals, papi. You see, there’s not a submissive bone in my entire body.”

I run my finger down the length of her neck, and she shivers on her stool. “Care to make a little wager on that, Princess?”

Chapter 10

Layla

Dereck’s finger circles the top of my collarbone, causing a tingling sensation to grow in my center. Jesus, this man flips my girlie switch without even trying. Just the sound of his calm, reassuring, and all-knowing voice is arousing. It sends a shiver down my spine and a delicious tingle straight below, but he’s not going to know that. “I’m not submissive. You’d lose all your money, papi.”

“Then you have everything to gain and nothing to lose with a harmless bet. All you have to do is answer a few simple questions, Layla, and remember, no lies because I will know, and lying goes against my rules.”

The way he looks at me with those steely grays, intent and simmering with unspoken passion, makes my center clench with girlie desire.

“I’m not accustomed to waiting for a response, princess. Tell me what I want to hear. Tell me you’re as spirited and adventurous as I think you to be. A simple bet to prove your point, Layla.”

“Yes,” I whisper, the affirmation coming from my traitorous lips before my brain has time to realize that getting him interested in a game of questions about my sexual proclivities toget his mind off my indiscretions is one of the worst ideas in the world and just a lie to no one but myself. The draw to this man is undeniable, and I want this interaction like I haven’t wanted anything in a long time.

“Good girl,” Dereck says while I take a large gulp of my wine.

He sweeps my hair to one shoulder. “I like your neck exposed to me, Layla. It allows me to see the beat of your pulse,” Dereck says, caressing it lightly before taking my wine glass and pushing it away. “No drinking while we talk.”

The sound of his lowered voice and instruction washes over me, and I let it. The silence follows, fueling the desire he creates. I wait for his questions, watching a spot beneath us, looking anywhere except into his gray eyes, which would undoubtedly tell him everything that I do not want him to know.

He’s silent, in no hurry at all, while the heat of his gaze penetrates me with its warmth. My breath catches as I realize he’s waiting, waiting for me to look at him instead of the floor. I glance up, and the intensity of his scrutiny is enough to take my breath away.

“Very good. Ready, Layla?”

I nod, swallowing down my nerves.

“Words, princess.”

I should be fighting this, keeping up the pretense, but he has a way of drawing out every bit of the submissiveness that I’ve pushed away for so long. “Yes.”

“Let’s set the rules first, then—no lying, or telling white lies or half-truths during this time. If you do, I will know, and there will be consequences, Layla. They will be within your limits, which we will discuss shortly, but I will administer them. Can you agree to that?”

His words are hypnotic. I find myself enthralled, hanging on his every word and wanting more. “Yes.”

His steely gray orbs penetrate mine, searching while I wait. “Princess, you’re not trying very hard to convince me that you’re not submissive. Why?”

I should be nervous, but the thought is entirely overpowered by desire and need. “Because the act of pretending would be a half-truth.”

He nods and caresses down the length of my neck. “Very good, Princess. Did the thought of a consequence deter you, or was it something else?”

I swallow hard, keeping the eye contact he’s asked for intact. “Something else.”

He watches intently, allowing me time and space to form my feelings and thoughts into words. “I’d like to know what that is, to keep playing and learn more about you, but you’re under no obligation since you’ve told me the truth. What made you want to tell me the truth if it wasn’t the consequence, Layla?”

“I knew it would make you happy. This attraction hasn’t happened to me for a very long time, and I didn’t want to push it away.”

He caresses down the length of my neck, sending a delicious shiver down my spine. “Layla, the attraction is not one-sided, but we both know you’re going to have to tell me your secrets at some point. Are you ready to trust me, princess? Are you ready to tell me who you are, why you’re pretending to be someone who died, why you’re hell-bent on getting to Bernatelli, and what your real name is?”

“That’s a lot of questions,” I say, swallowing. Dereck has done everything he could to help me, and I know that he and Trent are helping both of my friends get away from the people who want to sell them for nothing more than someone’s sexual gratification at this very minute. He prevented R.J. from finding me to keep me protected, calls me princess, and lights every submissiveneuron in my body on fire. “I can tell you most of the things you want to know.”

“That’s an honest answer. Let’s get comfortable, Layla, and then you can tell me what you’re able to share.” Dereck takes my hand and leads me from the stool to the sofa. He pulls a throw pillow from the corner, sits on the couch, and then places the cushion between his feet. “I want you to kneel for me while we talk. He turns me facing away from him and guides me to the floor, placing me into the position he wants on the cushion in front of him.

Dereck gathers my hair away from my neck, placing it all over one shoulder, grazing the length of exposed skin with a finger. “You can take this at your own pace, princess. When you’re ready,” he says, in that deep voice that sets my center on fire. He slides his fingers through the thickness of my hair, parting the long strands with care. I take a deep breath as he continues to play with and then braid my hair.

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