CHAPTER 5 – A LATE NIGHT ENCOUNTER #2
His lips curve. “Maybe. If I could afford it.”
We both know that’s a lie. He could buy the world if he wanted.
My head is spinning. I feel drunk, even though I haven’t touched a drop all day.
He sees it, and his smile softens. “You can take time to think,” he says. “No one will force you. But if you decide to do it, I’ll make sure you’re safe, Daisy.”
Safe. That’s the word that undoes me.
I nod, then look away, embarrassed at how much I want him to take charge.
He steps back, gives me space, and gestures to the next gallery room. “Want to see the rest?”
I follow, not sure if I’m hunting him, or if he’s hunting me.
The corridor is empty. The air is cool, but my skin is hot and prickling.
He stops by a painting that’s all white, except for a single, violent red slash through the center. I stare at it, as he stares at me.
“You’re not sure what to make of the artwork,” he says.
“Not really,” I admit.
“Most people don’t,” he says. “But that’s what makes it worth so much.”
He touches my arm, just above the elbow, and the contact is electric.
“Sometimes,” he says, “the most valuable things are the ones that can’t be explained. That can’t be put into words.”
I’m trembling, not just inside but all over. His hand stays on my arm, and I don’t pull away.
For a long minute, we stand together, not talking, just breathing. I let myself lean into his touch. I don’t want to, but I do.
I look up, meeting his gaze.
I don’t know this man, not really. But I do know that he’s godawful attractive, with that black hair, piecing blue eyes and strong jaw.
I want him to ruin me. But I also want to matter. Yet that’s the issue. If he buys me, it will be nothing more than a transaction. By definition, I won’t matter because he’ll only be paying for my curves. If he wins, that is.
I turn away, needing air. “I need to think,” I say, voice thin.
Hunter lets me go, but his hand drifts down to my wrist before I depart. “Whatever you choose, Daisy, it’ll be the right thing.”
I nod, and walk away, the club spinning around me like a planet.
All I can hear is the sound of my own heart, pounding in time with his.
I hide in my suite, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out what it is I want.
To be sold? To be owned? Or to run, and pretend I never saw the inside of this place?
All I know is that I want Hunter to want me.
And that scares me more than anything else in the world.
I decided to nap a bit, and when I wake, it’s pitch black outside my window.
The city glows below—distant, untouchable—but the suite is darker than a confession booth, and just as heavy with sin.
My mind is spinning from the day’s events: the exam, the gallery, Hunter’s face when he learned I was a “true virgin.”
Every thought runs back to him, loops through the memory of his lips parting as he stared down at me, blue eyes all fire and ice.
I want to forget the whole conversation about auctions and men who pay fortunes for forbidden fruit, but my brain replays it on a relentless loop.
Every time I try to breathe, I remember the exact way his gaze trailed down my body, slow and possessive, as if he’d already paid for me.
I can’t sit still. I get up, pace the suite, try on every dress they’ve given me.
Some are silk, some are soft cotton, but all of them are designed to make you feel like the best, most sexy version of yourself.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror: blonde hair wild, cheeks flushed, tits barely contained by the new lingerie they left folded in a box on my bed.
I look like a girl in a movie right before she ruins her life, or maybe right after.
Eventually, I lose the battle and text Hunter.
Me: “I can’t sleep. Can you come to my suite?”
OMG, what am I doing? Am I really inviting a powerful alpha male to my room in the middle of the night? But before I can unsend the message, a reply flashes.
Hunter: “On my way.”
He arrives ten minutes later, dark suit swapped for jeans and a black sweater that makes his body look even bigger, more dangerous. He’s carrying a bottle of expensive alcohol, and when he enters, the energy in the room shifts, like gravity has decided it wants him more than me.
He closes the door softly, sets the bottle on the table, and looks me over. His gaze is slow and deliberate, tracing every inch of bare leg between the hem of my nightdress and my knees.
“You look restless,” he says.
I try to play cool, but my voice is breathless. “I am. I can’t stop thinking about what you said earlier.”
He raises an eyebrow. “About the auction?”
I nod, sinking into one of the suite’s club chairs. “Do you really think it’s a good idea?”
The big male moves toward me, slow and unhurried. He sits across from me, knees spread, elbows on his thighs. The pose is pure alpha, and I can feel my pulse thudding everywhere.
“I think it could change your life,” he says. “But only if you want it to.”
I look away, embarrassed. “I don’t even know who I am, Hunter. I don’t know if I can do something like that.”
He’s quiet for a long time, just watching me.
“Would it help,” he asks, “if you knew what the other girls say?”
I shrug, but I want to know.
He leans in, voice low. “They say it’s the best experience of their lives.
The men are rough and dominant, to be sure, but they treat you like you’re made of gold.
Most girls enjoy it. And the money—” He makes a noise.
“It’s enough to wipe your slate clean. Start over.
Get out from under whoever you were before. ”
The words are logical. They make sense. But there’s still a panic clawing at my insides.
“What if I don’t like it?” I whisper.
His lips curve in a slow, devastating smile. “You will. Because you’ll be the one in control.”
He stands and comes to me, kneeling down until his face is level with mine. “Say you want it, Daisy. Say you want to be chosen. And I’ll make sure it’s exactly what you need.”
I tremble. “Are you serious? You’d let me do that?”
His eyes hold mine, and something in my chest goes hot and liquid. “You can do anything you want, Daisy.”
He cups my jaw, thumb brushing my cheek. The touch is light, almost reverent, but I can feel the strength in his fingers. I don’t pull away. Instead, I lean into him, breath quickening.
His mouth finds mine, slow and exploratory at first. The kiss is nothing like the ones from my half-remembered past—this is hungry, desperate, all teeth and tongue. I open for him, let him taste me, and the heat spikes so fast I’m dizzy.
His hands drop to my shoulders, then down my arms, tracing the line of my body until they rest on my hips. He pulls me closer, so close I feel the hard line of his cock through his jeans. It scares me, how much I want him.
He kisses me again, deeper this time, then breaks away and looks at me.
“The choice is yours,” he murmurs. “But I want you. Right here, right now.”
He presses a palm against my breast, slow and deliberate, thumb circling until the nipple pebbles under the thin silk of my nightgown. My breath comes in ragged gasps. I should say no. I should push him off and run, but I can’t. Every part of me aches to be claimed.
He kneads the flesh, then leans in and bites my lower lip, soft enough to tease, hard enough to promise what he’d do if given the chance. My hands are on his arms, gripping hard, but I still don’t pull away.
His voice is hoarse when he speaks. “You don’t have to wait for the auction. If you want, you can have me now.”
My brain short-circuits at the offer. I try to laugh, but it comes out as a whimper. “I don’t know what I want.”
He presses his forehead to mine. “That’s okay. You don’t have to know. You just have to feel.”
He slips his hand under my nightgown, palm warm on my bare thigh. My legs part without thinking. His fingers inch higher, teasing the sensitive skin, and I arch into him, desperate.
“Fuck you’re wet,” he rasps, skimming his fingers over my drenched folds. “Goddamn.”
“Mmm,” I moan, tilting my head back with bliss. “Oh, that feels good.”
Hunter’s slow, patient. He explores every inch of me with his hands, then his mouth, leaving marks that make me wild. He never rushes, never forces. He’s everything I should fear, but the only thing that makes me feel safe.
I lose track of time. At some point, we end up on the bed, Hunter’s body pinning me in place as he worships me with his tongue, his teeth, his clever, clever fingers. I’m so delirious I think I might drown. I want to beg, but I don’t have to. He knows what I need before I even ask.
“You’re gorgeous, baby girl,” he rasps after lifting his mouth from my nipple. It gleams rosy and shiny from his saliva, my ivory curves open for his enjoyment. “Some man is going to be very lucky.”
After all, Hunter’s in full control. The color on his high cheekbones is high, but he doesn’t fuck me. Not yet. Instead, he dips his head to my thighs again, gently licking at my hard nub before burying his tongue in my vaginal channel and fucking me with his mouth.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Oh shit.”
I’m so aroused that my back arches, my eyes closed with pleasure.
“Yes, Hunter, yes!” I cry out. “Mmmm!”
“You’re definitely a virgin,” he moans. “I just licked your hymen.”
What in the world? How is that even possible? But all thought flies from my mind because this man is controlling my curves. He makes me feel so good that I explode on his face, my pussy convulsing as he sucks at my clit, moaning words of praise.
“Yes, just like that,” he rasps. “You have a slutty cunt, Daisy. The kind that can only be satisfied by a hard fuck from your Daddy’s cock. You need to be auctioned to a man who can take care of your needs.”
What in the world? What is he saying? But I’m too lost to compute and merely shake and tremble, cupping my breasts as my pussy convulses with incredible pleasure again.
When we finally collapse, sweaty and tangled, I’m broken. I’m lost, wild, and utterly sated.
Hunter holds me, one big hand splayed over my stomach, thumb tracing lazy circles on my skin.
“Still scared?” he whispers.
I shake my head, burying my face in his chest. “Not as much.”
He kisses my forehead, so gentle it makes me ache.
“You’re going to be a star, Daisy. I promise.”
We lie there in silence, his arms around me. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. I don’t even know what I’ll decide.
But right now, in his arms, I finally feel like I belong to something.
Or maybe, to someone.
I drift off, his heartbeat in my ear, and dream of a world where I get to choose my own ending.