Sold to Him: A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance

by Cassandra Dee

  But nothing happens. The door yawns open, waiting for me, and I realize that as always, I’m on my own. I need to do this. I have no choice. This is my only option.

  “Go on,” says the Russian, not so kindly this time. “The club is waiting.”

  And with trembling knees, I step through the door. My entire body is encased in ice. My feet are freezing, fingers tingling with nervousness and dread. I feel their gazes on me, these twelve men, like judge and jury combined. It feels bad, but I have to do this for Mickey and Nana. I need to show that I’m worth it, even if Grayson doesn’t care anymore.

  Taking a deep breath, I approach the small dais, my swaying with each step. I climb onto the small circular platform, and a spotlight comes on, bathing me in heat. My eyes blink, trying to see past the glare, but it’s impossible. Suddenly, music begins playing, something sexual and sensuous, with a steady beat.

  Oh god! They want me to dance. Even though I can’t see the men in the booths, I feel twelve pairs of eyes on my flesh, expectant and demanding. I have to do this. They’re waiting.

  But I don’t want to do this.

  I can’t do this.

  But I have to.

  Taking another deep breath, I try to blank out my mind. To lift myself to another plane, and pretend I’m not here. My body starts dancing, but it’s not really Trina. It’s someone else inhabiting Trina’s form, as my mind floats elsewhere.

  Grayson. The thought of him comes suddenly to me unbidden. His bright blue eyes, and the way he looked at me, as if I were a precious jewel to be cared for. I shouldn’t be thinking of him now, when I’m about to be sold to another billionaire, but the memory of him is like a balm to my soul, and I grasp onto his image.

  Like magic, it works. A delicious tingle begins in my nipples and ripples out to the rest of my body, up my throat, and down to my pussy. My ass starts to rock slowly to the beat of the song. The friction of my behind moving against the velvet cloak causes my pussy to moisten, juices beginning to flow.

  Grayson used to love me like this. Soaking wet and ready for him, always.

  Grayson. I may hate him now but he’s the one who transformed me into a woman. His woman. Always ready for him, eager to bend over and take it any place, any time. As long as it was him. Only him. I can’t do it for these guys! I can’t!

  But the voice in my head sounds again. Control yourself. Nana needs this money. Mickey will die without it.

  Slowly, I let the robe fall to the dais, revealing my form clothed in the tiny scrap of gold material. The green lights above a few booths go on. The bidding has begun, even though I haven’t even really started dancing yet.

  But again, I try to take myself away from this place. I imagine Grayson looking at me and touching me. The music begins to flow through my limbs, each sway of my hips coming more naturally now. Even more green lights flash now, insistent like a jade eye. Oh my god, they’re all lighting up.

  But I don’t really care because my thoughts are all of Grayson. How handsome he is. How commanding, and how he stroked my curves over and over again, making me sigh with delight.

  Yes, that’s it. That’s how I’ll get through this. I’ll think of Grayson and that old pleasure, even tainted as they are right now with the pain of his betrayal.

  Instantly, a feeling of relief floods through my body. I can do this, and it will be a breeze. I’ll make them want me.

  Slowly, I gyrate to the left, then to the right, running my hands suggestively over my curves before cupping my breasts. It’s so sexy, and it’s actually turning me on. I feel the pulsing rhythm in my veins, and my nipples stand up hard and big. I feel it between my legs.

  The green lights of the booths flicker on and off as men bid, driving the price up and up and up. They want me. They think I’m sexy, and they want more.

  I give it to them.

  With slow hands, I untie the string around my neck, and the gold dress slithers off my curves to land in a puddle on the floor. Although I can’t see or hear the men, it feels like a giant hush takes over the room. Loving the attention, I tweak my nipples lightly, cupping my big Double Ds before sliding them down to my soft belly and throwing my head back in a delicious moan. Hot honey dribbles down my thighs and, shameless, I reach down to run my fingers through the wetness, before lifting my fingers to my lips to taste myself.

  My nectar is tangy and hot, and so appetizing. This is how Grayson would do it. Touch me until I was moaning for him. Over the booths, the lights pop on and on and on like sirens now, my price skyrocketing with every sinuous twist of my hips.

  Yes. I can do this. But only with Grayson on my mind.

  Would he love me like this? Would he enjoy seeing me touching myself like this for him? My fingers rub my clit. Electric lust buzzes through my twat and up into my belly, making me shiver. My eyes flutter closed, and I imagine him. His giant cock dripping wet and ready to fuck me. Those laser eyes of his holding me captive. His hands pulling my nipples and squeezing my big tits. His fat cock rubbing on my dripping twat, before diving in to split me in two.

  Oh yes! The memories propel me to new heights, and I rub my clit harder before slowly edging two fingers inside myself. Then three. They don’t feel anything like Grayson’s massive cock, but it’s enough for now.

  In, out. In, out.

  Juices gush over my digits. My wet channel squeezes down hard. I’m tingling and swimming in lust, and shamefully, knowing that twelve billionaires are watching turns me on even more. My fingers go faster, tunneling deep into my moist channel.

  But I want Grayson in my slit for real. I need his giant cock deep inside, pumping and dripping and gushing with seed.

  Grayson. I moan his name and frantically thrust my fingers in and out, holding my labia open with my other hand so that the billionaires can see everything. My hole being violated. The sweet, hard bud of my clit standing to attention. The copious juices smeared on my hands and thighs. The wet noise is so dirty and so loud that I can almost fool myself into thinking it’s Grayson’s dick plunging in and out of me.

  But suddenly, a familiar roar rings out, shaking the air around me. The air in the chamber vibrates, making my eyes pop open.

  “What--?” But there’s no time for anything. Grayson’s in the room, that big body moving so fast that he’s a blur of speed.

  The lights on the booths all go off. Another loud roar reverberates through the room, and then CRASH! Glass breaks as the main door slams open. Even with the spotlight blinding me, I see glass flying across the floor like scattered shards of diamonds reflecting the dim light.

  Grayson?

  Sure enough, my lover is dressed in the same outfit I saw him in before I was taken. Slacks, shirt unbuttoned at the throat, and shiny dress shoes. But that’s where the similarity ends. He looks frantic with his teeth bared in anger and eyes wild, surveying the room. Incredibly, there’s a giant bulge at the front of his slacks. He’s as hard as a diamond. Did he get excited watching me perform? A red hot flush takes me over from head to toe, his betrayal completely forgotten as I stand there stunned.

  But there’s no time to think. Suddenly, he’s on the small stage with me, his blue eyes brilliant and fierce. “Trina. Baby.” Then he kisses me hard on the lips, and there’s nothing I can do but to stare back, eyes wide. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he growls in a rushed voice. “I was stupid. I shouldn’t have let them take you,” he rasps. His body is hard and fierce and beautiful. “Forgive me, my sweet Trina. Please.”

  But we can’t speak right now because vaguely, I hear a cold female voice announcing in the background, “Auction aborted. Auction aborted.”

  But it’s too late because masked men are charging us now, ripping my man away. They’ve pulled him off of me, his big form held immobile between two men clad in black. Suddenly unfreezing, I whirl lurch toward him.

  “No! Grayson!”

  But what am I calling for? Do I want him back? But my body has a mind of its own, and I rush towards Grayson, beatin
g at his captors.

  “Let him go!” is my helpless scream, uncaring that I’m small and round and nude, and no match for these burly men. My fists beat down on their muscled arms. “Let him go!”

  But two other men appear out of nowhere and grab me, yanking me away from my man and jerking me towards a hidden door in the wall.

  “No! Grayson!” I scream his name. My shriek is high-pitched and desperate, the sound of hearts breaking, of lives ending. Oh my god, I can’t lose him again. “Graysooooon!”

  But it’s too late. I’m dragged through one door, and my lover through another, his massive, struggling form disappearing from view.

  “No!” he bellows. “Get the fuck off her! Don’t touch her, you fucking bastards!”

  Grayson’s lion-like roars shake the small room as they wrestle him away. He’s fighting them the whole time. Kicking and punching at his captors, pure rage and violence on that handsome face. My shrieks join his roars, and it’s loud and chaotic and utter madness.

  All the booths are open now, the billionaires descending to observe the chaos. They’re dressed immaculately in perfectly-cut suits, all twelve of them handsome, imposing, and powerful. Dark streaks slash their cheekbones as they watch my curvy, naked form disappear. Dispassionately, they watch Grayson too, fighting for his life as he tries to rescue me.

  And then they’re gone. The door to the auction chamber slams shut behind me and everything is suddenly silent. My chest is heaving, and my naked body covered with sweat. Was Grayson really just here? Did he really try to fight for me?

  In the midst of my frantic thoughts, the Russian woman appears again. This time her smile is gone, and her blue eyes are like ice. She looks displeased, to say the least.

  “Well, that was unexpected,” she says in a clipped tone and stands in front of me as the men hold my struggling form captive. “I don’t even think you’re worth all this trouble.” Her thin lips turn downwards in an unhappy frown. “Ridiculous.” She jerks her head down the hallway. “Lock her back in the room. We’ll deal with her later.”

  But where’s Grayson? What have they done with him?

  “You can’t do this to me! Let me go!” is my helpless shriek. I scream and struggle but it’s no good. The two men drag me down the hallway like I’m no heavier than a leaf. They shove open the door of my room and throw me in. My foot catches on the rug, and I stumble and fall to my knees, crying out in pain.

  And then they’re gone. The two guys disappeaer and the door slams shut, trapping me inside the cold, luxurious bedroom.

  Tears drip down my face and into my gasping mouth. My knees throb with pain from when they hit the floor. Misery. Sadness. Agony. These emotions twist and scrape inside me, doubling me over. I’m still on my knees but I can’t get up. It’s impossible. I can’t do anything but wail and cry and wish for Grayson and the life we might have had together, even if it was just a pipe dream.

  But it was never meant to be, and irretrievably, my heart shatters all over again. With me imprisoned and Grayson caught in their clutches, what will happen now? Any glimmer of hope I had fades … and I curl into a ball on the rug, pain rushing over my form in waves.

  Chapter 12

  Grayson

  Not knowing what happened to Trina after the failed auction is killing me. Because after that cluster-fuck, they locked in me another luxurious prison, this time at our mansion upstate. The Club has properties everywhere, and fuck, I’m familiar with this manor from being here often enough of my own free will. The place is lavish even by our standards. Gold covered everything, including the forks and knives. Maids and servants available at your beck and call. Luxurious pools, spas, and gyms, all of it in-house.

  My leather shoes are silent on the hardwood floor as I pace like a caged lion, wondering what the fuck is coming up next.

  I shouldn’t have done it. Of course I shouldn’t have. But it had to be done. I had to rescue my girl.

  Because once Costas left, I couldn’t sleep. I was exhausted, but every time I tried to close my eyes, all I saw was Trina’s beautiful face and the sense of betrayal in her eyes. The bitter tears quivering on her long lashes.

  I didn’t deserve to sleep, anyway. So the next time security came to my room, I took my chances. As one guard checked his phone, I made my escape. It was easy, so easy I almost felt sorry for them. One guy’s head whumped to the floor after a blow to the jaw, and the other guy never even saw what was coming. All he saw was the next level of Candy Crush before he crashed headlong into the wall.

  And then I crept to the garage and made off with one the cars. It was easy enough. Sure, these things are locked down, but before I made my billions, I was a petty thief, and the knowledge never left me. It was easy to hot wire one of the Ferraris and zoom off to the auction site.

  To the auction chamber.

  And I was right. She was there, dancing already, those luscious curves on display. The green lights were going crazy, my buddies bidding entire fortunes for some private time with my girl. But that’s the thing. She’s my girl, and only mine.

  But I wasn’t going to give them the chance to make her one of theirs.

  But now, shit is triply fucked up. They dragged us apart before we could make our getaway. I should have acted faster. I shouldn’t have stopped to kiss her, and to whisper apologies in her ear.

  But it was all worth it. The light in her eyes shone again once she heard my vows. Trina knows how much I love her, and how sorry I am about what’s happened. I’ll do anything to make it up to my love. But now, things are fucked up. We’re both locked up again, and this time, I know my brothers won’t be so dumb as to send half-assed security. I deserve a beating for sure, on top of some cold, hard solitary.

  Although I don’t pray often, I prayed then to get the chance to see Trina again. To tell her the vows in my heart. Because no matter what, I have to protect her. She deserves to be safe, warm and cherished.

  Trapped in my room, I pace the floor over and over again, a caged wolf ready to strike. A sound scratches at the door, and then comes the distinctive turn of a key in the lock. I spin around, my hands clenched into ready fists at my side. The door opens and I see six big guys waiting for me, muscles bristling obscenely.

  “Mr. Knight,” one of them says, loosely holding a plastic ziptie. “Your presence is needed before the tribunal.” He flexes his muscles like that shit’s supposed to intimidate me. Please. I’ve taken on bigger guys with only my fists and feet. But not six at a time, so with a growl, I turn my back and allow him to snap the ties around my wrists.

  Shit! The plastic digs hard into my wrists, but I don’t give them the satisfaction of making a sound.

  Here we go.

  On either side, guys grab my elbows while the others trail closely behind us. The hallway is long and straight, our heels clicking on the hard marble like gunshots. I feel people staring at me from the shadows, fucking cowards. But whoever it is, I can’t see them. With the guards surrounding me and shoving me forwards, I stare straight ahead.

  Is Trina here somewhere? I inhale sharply as the hands tighten on my elbows. Fuck these clowns!

  They take me down the stairs and through a maze of hallways and finally down to the club’s bar level. The entire bottom floor of the mansion has its windows blacked out to prevent peeping toms. It’s dark like a casino, a never-ending party.

  Thick double doors open as we approach. Low jazz music pours out of hidden speakers as we walk through the entryway and into the club proper. It’s a man’s wet dream in here. Nude, luscious girls everywhere wearing nothing but high heels and silly, frilly aprons. We call them hostesses as a euphemism. Smiling and looking sexy, they saunter from table to table, taking drink orders, or bending over and spreading themselves wide so guys can get an eyeful of the goods.

  Because this is their job. Sure, they serve drinks and make small talk. But they’re here to serve in a different way altogether. The women are at our disposal, trained to do anything and everythin
g we want, and all of it with a sweet smile.

  As I’m marched in, a few of the girls turn to look, curiosity on those beautiful faces as their big breasts heave.

  Yeah, how the mighty have fallen.

  But I don’t give a fuck. I’d do it all over again if it meant rescuing Trina.

  “Damn, is that Gray Knight?” I hear some asshole say in a hushed voice.

  “Shit! I thought he was one of the top dogs, totally untouchable.”

  Someone else grunts. “He must have fucked up bad.”

  I hold my head high, unwilling to even look at these fucking losers. The guards escort me through the bar and into a private room in the back, leaving the hushed voices of gossip behind.

  As another thick set of double doors swing shut, silence descending. There’s no music. No sound of giggling girls or clinking glasses. It’s a windowless room, but bright from the giant chandelier strung from the ceiling. This place looks like a traditional receiving room for a king, what with the ornate rugs and priceless artworks lining the walls. Three chairs sit high up in front of a long table, forcing any guests to crane their heads upwards.

  What a bullshit power play. But when a billionaire breaks the rules, this is just where we come. And as much as I hate to be in this position right now, I understand the system.

  I take a deep breath, ready to take my punishment, whatever it is. Just then, I notice a familiar form.