Chapter Two
Rose
I thought my life couldn’t get any worse after my stepfather sold me off to an auction house. I was wrong. Now, standing on this stage with men trying to outdo themselves in a bid to own me, it feels like the whole world is crashing down on me.
One million dollars .
I glance in the direction of the man who spoke last, my heart rate picking up as my gaze clashes with a pair of dark, soulless eyes. Bold. Possessive. My breath hitches at the intensity of his gaze and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. Suddenly, every other person in the room fades away, except him.
“One and a half million,” another voice calls, breaking my trance.
Even then, I can’t seem to look away from the dark-eyed man. Something about the way he’s holding my gaze keeps me grounded. Safe.
Is that even right?
Just like every other monster here, he’s here to buy girls for his sick pleasure. So why am I rooting for him, silently hoping for him to outbid everyone else? Maybe being in the auction house for so long has done something to my head.
“Two million,” he counters. His voice, although low, carries an unmistakable edge. Something dark and dangerous.
“Two and a half,” someone calls out hesitantly.
“Three million,” another says.
He remains silent, and just when I start to think he’s given up on the bid, his deep voice reverberates through the room. “Ten million dollars.”
A soft gasp escapes my lips. A tense silence falls upon the room until it becomes clear no one is willing to challenge him.
“Well, we have the bid at ten million,” the auctioneer announces, his voice ringing with excitement. “And it’s going once…twice…and sold!”
My heart slams hard against my chest in time with the sound of the gavel. I stand rooted to the spot, momentarily losing awareness of time and space. I’m lost in those deep, dark eyes, drowning.
I can hear the auctioneer’s voice, dishing out instructions, but I can barely make out the words. My body is strung tight, my heart beating too fast, and the exhaustion and anxiety of the past few days are suddenly catching up with me. My vision blurs and I sway on my feet.
Suddenly, a pair of big, strong arms come around my waist, holding me steady. I raise my head and my gaze clashes with those arresting dark eyes that kept me captive throughout the bidding. I stare blankly at the man, unable to wrap my head around how he got to me so fast.
Wasn’t he just at the back of the room?
“You’re okay,” he whispers into my ear, his deep rumbling voice sending thrills across my skin. “I’ve got you.”
I let my gaze roam his face, taking in his perfectly chiseled features and ruffled dark hair. A thin scar runs across his forehead to the space above his eyelid, giving him a dangerous edge that’s terrifying yet exciting. I thought his eyes were black, but they’re a deep, soulful brown—the most beautiful shade of brown I’ve ever seen.
My God, he is beautiful. It’s an odd thought, but I can’t help it.
“Hold on tight, princess,” he says, suddenly picking me up bridal style. A shocked gasp escapes my lips even as I instinctively wrap my arms around his neck. My breath hitches as I stare into his arresting brown eyes, my heart pounding hard against my rib cage. The coldness I saw in his eyes earlier has been replaced with a gentle warmth that makes me want to drown in their beautiful brown depths.
“W-what’re you doing?” I ask, barely managing to push the words past the dryness in my throat.
“Taking you home, princess,” he answers, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I’m about to ask what he means by that, but the auctioneer’s voice interrupts my thought. “You can’t leave unless we confirm your satisfaction with your purchase, sir.”
The man hesitates, and his arms tighten around me. My face is so close to his I can see a muscle in his jaw twitch. He looks angry, like he wants to fight back. But then his gaze darts to the guards at the door, and I follow his glance. One of the guards has their hand rested casually on their gun, and his eyes are alert as he waits to see what happens next.
“Of course,” my brown-eyed hero says, as if that was the plan all along. He carries me off the stage and back to his seat, whispering in my ear, “I’m going to protect you, princess, I swear it. We just need to give them what they want, and then we can go home.”
His voice softens at the word “home,” and somehow I know it right there and then. This handsome stranger is my knight in shining armor. He’ll protect me no matter what. I don’t know how I know that, but I can feel it down to my bones.
I bury my face in his neck, snuggling deeper into his warmth as he sits down with me on his lap. The hall is quieter than before, and I can feel the weight of all those hungry male gazes—I know what’s expected to happen next, what they want me to do. I heard the other girls talking while we waited to be sold.
I have to please my buyer.
“What’s your name?” I ask in a bid to fill the charged silence between us.
“Damien,” he answers simply. “Damien Hart.”
“I’m Rose,” I say, nervously worrying my lower lip like I do whenever I’m nervous.
He smiles at me reassuringly, though his eyes are soft and full of worry for me. “Just focus on me, okay? Forget about them. You don’t need to be afraid of me, Rose. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I know,” I whisper. I believe him. I don’t know why, but I do. And when he bends to press his lips against mine, I’m filled with the sudden desire to prove that I’m okay. That I want this and I’m not afraid of him.
So I kiss him back, and when he slips his tongue into my mouth, I can’t help letting out a gasp of pleasure. As our tongues tangle together, his hand trails from my hip up my side, over the curve of my breast, to trace my nipple through the sheer fabric.
I moan at his touch, blushing at how eager I am. I can feel wetness already pooling between my thighs.
He shifts me so I’m straddling him in the seat, bringing me into the perfect position to feel the hardness of him through our clothes. I can’t help grinding against him slowly, and he groans softly, pulling our mouths apart. “You’re perfect,” he whispers in my ear, trailing his lips along my jaw, nipping at my earlobe and kissing his way down my neck.
I’ve never felt anything like this before, never wanted anything so badly. And I know I shouldn’t want this, surrounded by lecherous old men in this terrible chapel, but my body has a mind of its own.
I continue to grind against his length as he pulls down the lingerie they forced me to wear and bares my breasts to the chill air. As he takes one of my nipples into his mouth and begins to suck gently, one of his hands sneaks between my legs, easily pulling the scrap of fabric there to the side and sliding one of his fingers inside me.
He moans. “You’re so wet, princess. Is this all for me?”
“Yes,” I gasp. “Please.” I don’t even know what I’m begging for, but I instinctively know that whatever it is, he can give it to me. I’m whimpering now with need, my legs trembling as his finger slides through my wetness, dipping in and out of my pussy, then circling around my clit.
Some chatter is starting to resume in the crowd as they prepare for the next girl to come out on stage. A sharp laugh from a man in conversation a few yards away threatens to steal my attention, making me self-conscious, and Damien sharply pulls my face back around to him.
“Eyes on me,” he says sharply. “There’s no one else here—understand?”
I nod, kissing him firmly. “I understand.”
His length is straining even harder against his pants, and I suddenly realize I’m not exactly holding up my end of the deal. I need to please him too.
And I want to please him.
Though I’ve never done this before, and my hands are shaking, I reach for the zipper of his pants. Realizing what I’m doing, his hand between my legs stills. “Are you sure, princess?” he asks me.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Please let me touch you too.”
Though there’s something like guilt in his eyes, he quickly helps me remove his hard length. As soon as my hand is wrapped around him and stroking tentatively, he resumes the movement of his finger inside me, building up that pleasure, making me feel things I didn’t know I could.
With his other hand, he pulls my face to his and takes my mouth again. We’re kissing, our tongues tangled together, and I’m riding his hand as his skilled fingers pull pleasure from my body.
I clumsily move my hand up and down his length in time with my own movements. He’s so hard, even more than I expected, yet his skin is soft beneath my touch. His hips are rising to meet each downward stroke of my hand, and his thumb is now circling my clit as his finger glides in and out of my entrance.
“Come for me, princess.”
As if I’ve been waiting for his permission, my pleasure reaches its peak. I gasp, letting out a moan that he captures with another kiss, and my body shudders, tightening around his finger.
“So fucking tight,” he groans against my mouth as he shudders his release too, his first spurt of seed serving to slick the surface of his cock as I stroke him through his orgasm. I’m in awe that I was able to make him feel even a little bit of the pleasure he brought to me.
We’re both breathing heavily and staring into each other’s eyes for a long moment. Smiling softly at me, Damien tucks himself back into his pants, gently wiping my hand off on his boxers, and adjusts my lingerie so that when we enter the crowds again I’ll be somewhat covered.
“Let’s go home,” he says.
I nod into his shoulder, trying to conceal my blushing face. I can’t believe I did that! And in front of all these people! A sliver of pride is mixed in with all the other emotions I’m feeling—a little bit of lingering fear, but also relief, longing, and exhaustion.
He carries me all the way to his car, a sleek black Mercedes, gently placing me on the passenger seat like I’m some delicate glassware. Then he starts to unbutton his shirt, his eyes never leaving mine.
“W-what are you doing?” I stutter, my eyes widening as I watch him.
“It’s alright, princess. It’s just to cover you up,” he says, his lips tilting slightly in an amused smirk.
He pulls off his shirt, revealing a tight white T-shirt underneath. My throat goes dry at the sight of his huge muscular arms covered in intricate tribal tattoos. I stare at them in fascination as he puts the shirt over me and urges my arms into the sleeves. He’s bending over me as he buttons the shirt, so close I can barely breathe. Or think. His dark, masculine scent teases my senses, his warm breath caressing my skin, setting my skin on fire.
He pushes the door closed and walks around to the driver’s side. I watch him settle in his seat and start the car, his face an unreadable mask.
He glances at my face, his gaze lingering on my lips. “Try to get some sleep, Rose. It’s a long way home.”
Home. He keeps saying that and I want to ask him what home he means—the same one where my evil stepfather resides, or a new home. I have no idea what awaits me.
I try to sleep like he advised, but the farther we get from the auction house, the harder my reality sets in. In the past few days, I’ve tried not to think about the state my mom would be in after not seeing me for days. I told myself it was useless worrying when I didn’t know my fate. Now that I’m out, I’m torn between wanting to go back home, or staying away like Jared wanted.
He probably told her some ridiculous lie that explains my disappearance. She’s too weak to fight him. Jared knows that and is taking full advantage of it.
I bite down on my lip as a familiar burning sensation flares in my chest. I recognize the emotion—it’s a feeling I’ve refused to acknowledge since my mom married Jared Fields. Rage. A vicious rage that threatens to consume me if I let it. I want to lash out at my mom for her choice, at myself for letting Jared walk all over me, and at the universe for being so unfair…but acknowledging this anger is what would hurt my mom the most. I can’t do that to her…not when she’s sick, and fighting for her life.
I should probably think about something else. Like the hot stranger sitting next to me.
I glance discreetly at Damien. Even from the side, there’s a rawness to him, a primitive edge that makes my heart skip a beat. His sharp jawline and angular cheekbones seem chiseled from granite, giving him an untamed appearance that’s both intimidating and irresistibly attractive. My gaze slides down to his full, firm lips and I feel an ache at my core, an echo of my earlier orgasm. I find myself wanting to run my finger over the soft flesh of his lips, to taste him again…
Oh, Rose…what are you thinking?
“Are you alright?” His deep voice cuts into my thoughts, like a splash of cold water on my face. I look up in time to catch a fleeting emotion in his eyes. Worry? I can’t tell because his expression quickly goes back to being blank. I nod quickly in answer.
“We’re here,” Damien says quietly, pulling into the parking garage of a tall, luxurious apartment building. He parks the car and comes around to the passenger side to open the door.
“Thank you,” I murmur, and just as I try to get out, he picks me up, his strong arms pressing me firmly against his body.
“I can walk, you know?” I say, unsure whether to be amused or annoyed.
“I know,” he answers seriously. “But you’re barely holding yourself up in those heels.”
My cheeks burn with embarrassment. He must have noticed me struggling to walk on that stage. Damien strides toward the elevator, effortlessly juggling me in his arms as he enters and pushes the button for the penthouse, scanning his card.
“Where are we?” I ask, clearing my throat nervously.
“Home.”
I want to ask why he brought me to his apartment and what he plans to do with me. I want to ask him why he has such a strange effect on me, and why I can barely think beyond the feel of his arms around me.
What is this feeling?
But I forget all my questions for a moment when the elevator doors open again and we enter the nicest apartment I’ve ever seen. We’re surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows, invitingly soft furniture, and abstract art in natural, earthy tones.
“What happens next?” I ask once we’re inside and Damien sets me down.
He shrugs, his expression frustratingly unreadable. “Whatever you want, princess.”
“And if I want to go home?” I say, folding my arms over my chest.
“I can’t let you go,” he says simply.
“Why not?” I ask, angling my head to hold his gaze.
“Because you’re mine now.”
My heart skips a beat. Not at the words, but at the finality with which he said them, the unabashed possessiveness in his deep brown eyes. A chill of awareness runs down my spine, and suddenly I want to give in to this crazy attraction swirling between us.
Maybe he can make the awful memories of the past few days disappear. Just for tonight.
I step closer, spurred by a sudden surge of courage and lust. I wrap my arms around his neck, rising on my tiptoes until my lips are mere inches from him. “Kiss me then.”
His eyes flare with something dark, but it disappears quickly before I can tell what it is, quickly replaced by a mask of coolness that I’m quickly growing accustomed to.
“I’m not going to stop at a kiss, Rose,” he says quietly. “And I’m not going to stop at just what we did at the chapel either.” His eyes burn into mine with an intensity that makes me hot all over.
“I know. I want all of it.”
He remains quiet for a long time, his eyes boring intensely into mine. And just when I start to think I’m about to be rejected, he grabs my waist and pulls me close, slowly lowering his mouth to mine.