Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Tonight, though, I know he will. Yes, he likes to share. Fuck, it turns me on to be shared, both of us knowing that no matter how passionate, how large or small, how much endurance they have . . . none of them will have the connection that we share.
None of them know my darkest secrets. None of them can command me to do things I never dreamed of and find pleasure beyond imagination. None of them are mine.
He is, though.
Gabriel is my Dom. And tonight is about Gabriel showing everyone, all of these other men, that I am his. It’s a heady rush in so many ways, yet my fingertips go numb at the thought of not leaving with him. I assume, like he is, that every man in the crowd is rich and powerful. Knowing that I’m the woman they’re lusting after, that they want me and will part with even a smidgen of their fortunes in the chance to have me . . . It gives him pleasure to not just own me but to prove to all of the other men that they cannot.
And each of these auctions reinforces that fact while at the same time enriching me.
“The bidding will open at fifty thousand dollars,” the auctioneer, cast in shadow but speaking evenly and with command, says. While these men are bidding on flesh, there is none of the hype, none of the yelling or even descriptions that I thought there’d be.
It is nearly silent, adding to the tension. There are paddles raised and liquor served on silver platters.
If I were to run one of these, I’d do it almost the same way. Almost, but richer and with more attention to detail for the mistresses, the submissives. More . . . security and a promise that the men are getting what they want, but so are the women.
I call myself one of the lucky ones.
One change I’d make specifically . . . a way for the girl to explain herself, her limits, without having to make a speech. These bidders know me now, but the first time, I had to say something.
I’d given speeches in college, presentations in front of entire auditoriums. But telling that room of twenty or so odd men that I’d never had anything but vanilla sex before, but that I was willing to explore, mortified me.
It nearly derailed me, as after the auction, I went to sign the contract that the group required . . . and I found him there. There’d been a change of plans as the winner realized that I was not the sort of girl he wanted. So an arrangement was made, a handshake and money exchanged, and I sat across the table from him as the auctioneer explained the terms of the contract.
His presence left me breathless, my desire almost as hot as it is now as I stand upon the stage, looking out at the room with a quiet self-confidence. “One seventy-five,” the auctioneer says, pointing not toward Gabe but to another. These other men, perhaps they’re strong and dominant. Perhaps they are good men too, men who nourish and encourage their women to discover pleasure they never knew.
Perhaps.
But they can’t replace him.
Yet he waits, a small, amused smile on his lips as he watches the men lift their paddles time and time again, the price rising past two hundred, past three hundred, past four hundred thousand. My gaze never leaves his, even as my heart races.
When the price passes half a million, only three men remain. I’m sure these are the men I’m shared with, the men who can grip my hips or thighs as they lick at my pussy, the men who grunt and groan and shiver as their dicks thrust in and out of me.
They’re good at what they do, and the anticipation of the play time we’ll have by the end of tonight has my heart hammering in my chest.
He and I both know that I’ve nearly climaxed more than once up here on the stage just from the rush of this moment.
“The price is five hundred and seventy thousand dollars,” the auctioneer says, and out of the corner of my eye, I see his head tilt slightly. He has to be wondering, as all the powerful men in the crowd must wonder . . . will this be the time?
Will this be the time that one of them gets to have me?
Is this the time that I become another man’s property?
Heat travels along every inch of my skin. “Are there any other bidders?” the auctioneer asks, and in the darkness beyond the spotlight, I can see heads turning, masks looking back and forth. This is what tonight is about. Not the money. By this point, I’ve paid off my college loans and I have enough to live a comfortable life, with an investment portfolio that’s growing by the day.