Sold: Highest Bidder

by Willow Winters

  There are only two options I can think of. One, they left me alive to torture me because I went to the cops. Two, they left me alive to torture me for fun. Knowing Lorenzo, it’s number two.

  I close my eyes, letting the realization settle in. My body shakes as tremors of fear run through my limbs, but I try to soothe them. I got out before. I’ll do it again. I may be a meek little mouse, as that fucker used to call me, but I fight when I have to. And right now, I have to.

  My eyes slowly open and adjust to the light.

  The air is cold and damp, but my throw is in a pile on the floor next to me. I quickly grab it and wrap it around me as though it can protect me. Fear cripples me as I hear the sound of a chair moving across the floor. My heart stills and a chill prickles my skin. I’m not alone.

  As I search the dark, vacant room, I see him. The look of a hunter stares back at me. I don’t recognize him. His broad chest and chiseled muscles flex as he leans forward. His eyes are a brilliant light blue and they pierce through me. His cheekbones are sharp and only appear more contoured with the shadows from the dim light. If he had any other expression on his face, I’d think he was the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met.

  As if reading my mind, he smirks at me. The fucking bastard thinks this is funny. My heart tries to climb up my throat as he sits back in his seat and his hand settles on the raging erection in his jeans.

  Fuck!

  My eyes dart back up to his. That shit’s not happening. I’ll claw his fucking eyes out. I look for a door and then back to him. I don’t see one, but I don’t care if I kill him and I’m locked in here and starve to death. I won’t let that happen.

  We stare at each other in silence. I want to ask him what he wants from me, but I already know. I want to plead for him to let me leave, but I’ve learned that doesn’t work. Instead I wait for his move. He cocks his head after a moment and slowly stands.

  As he moves toward me, I resist the urge to scoot away. I can’t do that. I can’t back myself into a corner.

  He crouches in front of me and leans in closer. His eyes hold a hint of danger, but also a spark of desire. I’m just not sure what he wants to do with me exactly, besides the obvious. “I’m supposed to kill you,” he says. His deep baritone voice is low and threatening. He tilts his head as I slide slightly backward on my ass out of natural instinct. I take control of my body and tilt my chest away from him, giving myself leverage to kick this motherfucker in the balls if he gets any closer.

  His full lips pull into an asymmetric grin. “You can’t get away from me just yet.” I hate how he’s taunting me, like he expected this.

  My breathing is ragged, and my heart is beating so fast I swear my chest won’t be able to contain it. It feels as though my heart's trying to leap out of my throat. I barely get the words out, but I manage to say, “I don’t want to die.”

  His grin widens into a perfect smile. This man’s too handsome to be a predator. There’s a darkness about him, but he could fool anyone with just a small amount of charm.

  “I don’t want you to die either, kitten.” His pet name sends a bolt of desire to my clit. Shame washes through me. I shouldn’t like it. This is wrong. He stands up and towers above me. I tilt my head to keep my eyes on him. “You have a choice,” he says.

  I wait for him to continue as I stay huddled in a ball beneath him. My blood rushes loudly in my ears and I try to calm my racing heart. He doesn’t want me to die. That should relax me; it should make me feel even the faintest bit better. But it doesn’t.

  “You can die.” He speaks to the far wall, not looking at me. I find my eyes searching for a door, looking for a way out. To my right, I finally spot a steel door, with a keypad to its left. “Or,” he continues, and I feel his gaze on me as my eyes fly to meet his and my heart thuds painfully in my chest. “You can agree to be mine.”

  I can’t help that the way he says it makes my core heat. A wetness pools between my thighs and I feel ashamed. This isn’t a fantasy. This is real life. I feel the blood drain from my face as I become lightheaded. The only reason I’m not dead is because he wants to keep me. But I doubt his intentions are anything but kinky and sick.

  I don’t want this. Tears leak from the corners of my eyes and I shake my head. “No.” My voice is hoarse and barely audible.

  This isn’t real. This isn’t happening. I wait for him to grab me. As soon as he does, I’ll strike. But he merely searches my face for something and stands far enough away that I can’t do any real damage.

  He cocks a brow and his voice softens as he says, “You haven’t heard my terms. How sure are you that you don’t want to be my pet?”

  Terms?

  Again the offer makes my pussy clench and my cheeks redden with a violent blush. “No,” I blurt out without thinking.

  His chest rumbles with a deep chuckle. “Some part of you wants me. There’s hope for us after all.” He smiles down at me and turns to walk away. My limbs refuse to move and attack him. Instead I stay frozen on the ground. I watch his corded muscles ripple as he walks to the door and enters in a code.

  “Where are you going?” I ask before thinking. Apparently the fear of being left alone in this room to rot is greater than my fear of him. I don’t want to die here, left to starve because he changed his mind. I may have said no, but I sure as fuck don’t want to die here.

  He turns and gives me the same sexy smirk. “My kitten needs to eat.”

  Tension coils in my body. I can’t let him leave. I need to get more information. I don’t like not knowing anything about this situation and not having any other options.

  “Wait. What--” I swallow thickly before continuing. “What are your terms?”

  He smirks at me as he opens the door and says, “The first is that you’ll listen to me. I’ll be back soon.”

  My chest rises and falls with anxiety and fear as I stare back at him in silence. I pull the throw tighter around my shoulders and watch as he walks through the door and leaves me in the dark room. I'm all alone and barely able to breathe. After a short moment, lights in the ceiling slowly come to life, illuminating the room dimly and gradually getting brighter. I look around my surroundings and see a small toilet in the corner and the metal chair my captor was sitting in, but nothing else. Tears prick my eyes and my blood runs cold. I can’t stay here like a prisoner.

  I stare at the door waiting for him to come back, letting everything sink in.

  I’ve been taken.

  And he wants to keep me.

  The only thing I’m certain of is that I need to find a way out of here. Run as fast as I can, and never look back. But I’ll have to rely on him to get out of this fucking cell first.

  Chapter 4

  Anthony

  I’ve never done anything that’s felt this wrong before. Nothing's ever come close to giving me this thrill that’s surging in my blood. Her reaction was perfect. I knew she’d deny me, but the fight in her is something I didn’t expect. I fucking love it.

  I had to be in there when she woke up. I didn’t want her freaking out, thinking she was going to die. Instead she can be absorbed with thoughts of me and being mine. My dick is fucking leaking in my jeans. I can’t help that I want this. I want her. And now I have her. But not her submission though. That much is obvious and expected.

  I feel like I’m on the highest high I’ve ever had in my life. I should feel conflicted. I should have second thoughts about this, or feel remorse. But I don’t. She’s mine.

  I pace back and forth in the kitchen as I think about what I’d like to feed her. I’m not sure what to offer her first. I need to make it tempting for her to obey me, but this isn’t a reward. I have to stay vigilant. I want to shower her with everything she’d ever want to convince her she’d enjoy being my pet. But that would defeat the entire purpose of all this, and she needs to know what her position is. She needs to earn her rewards just as much as I need to earn her submission.

  There are simple truths to this relationship.


  I will always give her shelter and food, no matter how disobedient she is. Even if she refuses every order, which I imagine will happen at some point. Hell, I fully expect her to try to kill me at some point, too. Even the best submissives refuse their positions at times. And she’s being forced into this, so I wouldn’t blame her if she did. There’s no reason for me to deliver physical punishment unless I’d like to prep her for pleasure. Which I can’t fucking wait to do.

  I imagine it’ll be her mouth that makes me blister her ass red. My dick jumps in my pants at the thought of watching her ass turn a beautiful shade as my palm smacks against her pale skin.

  Equally as important as punishment is reward.

  Although I’ll always feed her, some kinds of food are definitely a reward. This won’t be one of them. But it needs to be good. She didn’t eat dinner, so I know she must be hungry. It’s far past breakfast, so a light brunch it is.

  I looked up her credit card history and I know what she likes to eat. I’ve taken everything she does into consideration. I know everything about her. I’ve spent every day for nearly a month studying her habits and learning how best I can meet her needs and reward her. I also needed time to get the rooms together and decide on the best way to go about everything in between taking care of the other hits. I’ve fantasized about this day since I got the approval from the mob bosses. But I never imagined I’d get this fucking rush of adrenaline.

  One thing I hadn’t decided was what her first meal should be.

  Although she’s not too picky, I don’t want it to be mediocre. However, I can’t spoil her just yet, so I decide on fresh ahi tuna. It's something that will be simple to feed her. I smile as I realize I’m going to feed my kitten tuna. A rough chuckle rumbles through my chest. I’m sure she won’t find humor in that, but I sure as fuck do.

  I grab the tuna tartare from the fridge. It’s fresh. I bought it just for her since it’s one of her favorites. I’ll give it to her now even though it’s certainly on the reward side of food. She needs to know I’ll treat her well and give her what she likes so long as she obeys. She’ll probably throw it in my face or on the ground, but I’m prepared for that to happen. And then she’ll have to settle for something less appealing when I serve her dinner.

  If she’s a good girl, I’ll move her into her room. I don’t think she’ll react well to being kept and told to obey, but the thought makes my dick press even harder against my zipper. I’m dying for her to disobey me, but there’s a very real possibility that it’ll take a long time to convince her that she should listen to me. I can’t get carried away with my excitement. I have to be patient. I have to give her every reason I can to submit to me willingly.

  She will though. I’m certain of it. I know this turns her on as much as it does me. It’s what sealed her fate. We both have this fantasy, and I’d be a fucking idiot to let it pass us by. That’s why I watched her for so long. I needed to make sure this is really what I wanted. And it is. She's exactly who I want. Everything she does is perfect. She's a natural submissive.

  I pull back the plastic wrap holding the delicately pressed chunks together, and place the stack neatly in the center of a ceramic plate. It looks delicious. I grab the accompanying plastic container of sauce and put it on the dish. She’ll enjoy this...if she eats it. I thought about using a plastic plate, but I want the dish to be breakable. I want her to think about smashing it and using it against me. Fuck, in all honesty, I hope she tries. That way I can show her how useless her struggle would be. It feeds into my need to train her to be submissive to me. Maybe it’s wrong of me to tease her like that and to dare her to disobey me, but I don’t give a fuck.

  Right now I just need to get her to agree and follow a simple command. To eat.

  I have to adjust my erection at the thought of her parting those full lips and letting me slip chunks of tuna into her mouth. I’m so fucking hard for her. All I want to do is pin her down and sink deep into her hot cunt. I know she’s turned on by this. If nothing else she wants to fuck me. It’s a long way from her craving to be all mine, to wanting to submit to my every wish. But at least her desire is a start. A really good fucking start. I wasn’t anticipating that just yet.

  I thought she’d be crying by now. I imagined her screaming and begging to be set free. That's not what I want, but that would be a natural response. Maybe that’ll come later. I’m hopeful that it won’t though. She’s too smart for that shit. I think she’ll probably pretend to play along and wait for the perfect opportunity, just like she did earlier. She'll go along with everything, waiting to see my hand and then calculate her next move.

  I’ll be ready though. I can’t wait till she lets her claws out and tries to fight me so I can show her just how easy it would be to take her.

  I shake my head, hating where my thoughts are going. I’m such a sick fuck. For as long as I can remember, I’ve had these dark desires. I want her to fight me, to run from me. I want to feel her body struggle against mine. But I want her to do all of that willingly. I want her eager for me to chase her and pin her down, forcing her legs open and fucking her until she’s limp and filled with my cum. I won’t give in to that temptation, not until she begs me. Not until I earn it.

  I can’t get carried away. I need her to want this just as much as I do.

  As I prepare to head back to her cell, my phone goes off in the dining room. From the sound I can tell it’s a text, and I know it’s from Vince. I put the plate on the counter and walk to the table to give him the news.

  Is the shipment taken care of? he asks in his text.

  Usually I’d reply with a simple yes, meaning that the unlucky bastard on my list is dead, but that’s not the case this time.

  It’s been delivered, I respond.

  You’ve kept the shipment?

  Yes. I’m quick to answer. My heart beats faster in my chest. He gave me permission, so now I'm keeping her. I don’t like that he's questioning me. Maybe he was wondering if I’d really go through with it. I watch my phone and see he’s writing a response. Then nothing. Then he starts typing again. I’m not sure if he doesn’t know what to say, or if he’s just trying to figure out how to word it.

  Will the order keep a shelf life? he asks, and I know what he’s really asking. Will she live? Am I going to kill her? Or possibly he thinks she’d rather die than be with me.

  I stare at my phone and look through the kitchen toward the back room where the door to the basement is. I’ve got all three of her rooms set up with locks on them. The cell, her suite, and her office. I didn’t do all this prep work and make sure she was the one for me only to have her taken away. Or worse, have her choose death. She may have said no to being mine out of a knee-jerk reaction at first, but she’s curious, and I know I can change her mind. She doesn’t mean it. Before I leave her cell tonight, I’m going to leave her wanting more. I want her to start fantasizing about being mine and what an opportunity this really is for her.

  I type in my answer and push send, leaving the phone on the table and walking quickly to get back to her.

  I’m keeping her.

  Chapter 5

  Catherine

  After a minute of watching the door, I slowly rise and take a look around the room. It’s small and a bit cold. The only escape is the door he went through. The one locked with a keypad.

  I can’t fucking stay here like a caged rat. My heart stills in my chest. That’s what I am to them. My eyes rise with defiance to the door. I did what I thought was right, and the only thing I could do to survive. They can all fuck off. I don’t deserve this shit. I’m not a mouse or a rat.

  I picture that sexy smirk and hear the man keeping me here call me kitten. It sends a shiver down my spine. I’m not his fucking kitten either. Even if I do think that pet name is sexy as hell, and it makes my pussy clench.

  I walk to the chair and imagine smashing it against his head when that fucker gets back in here. I don’t know the code to unlock the door though. I'd hav
e to be on the other side of the room to get a good view of him punching in the keys. Even then, I doubt I’d be able to make them out; it’s too fucking dark. I need to get the fuck out of this room, and I don’t know how I’m going to be able to do that unless he physically lets me.

  I know pleading with him to let me go would be of no use, but maybe I can beg him to let me out of this room and into another. One without a fucking lock. I need to be smart about this. I grip the back of the chair wanting so desperately to just beat the shit out of him, but I can’t. First of all, I’m weak as shit. Second, no matter how much I don’t like it, I’m stuck here until he decides to let me out.

  My body tenses as the door opens. I watch as he walks into the room with a plate balanced in his hands. Anger heats my blood. This is a game to him. He thinks he can play with me. He stops as the door clicks shut behind him and he stares at me. I try to school my expression to neutral, so I don't reveal how I'm really feeling. But then I see his expression, and he looks pleased. He’s happy that I’m angry. I release my grip on the chair and take a step back before I give in to the urge to pick it up and throw it at him.

  “You look upset, kitten.”

  My nostrils flare. I decide to settle on the truth. “I am.” I keep my hands straight so I don’t ball them into fists. It won't do me any good to fight a man like him head on. I need to save my energy for when I'll have to fight him off, since I'm sure that's coming. I should also be adopting a more submissive tone considering I’ve come to terms with the fact that he’s the only way I can get out of here. But I’m holding on to my anger. It’s better than giving into the hopelessness of the situation.

  “With me?” He tsks and shakes his head as he takes slow and deliberate steps toward me. I take another step back as he sets the plate down on the chair. “Don’t be angry with me, kitten. I--”