Highest Bidder Collection

by Lauren Landish

  I suck in another deep breath as I turn off the highway, taking the road that will take me straight to Sandra’s office.

  I’m free. Tears prick at my eyes. I hadn’t realized how much pain I was in just knowing that man was still breathing. I feel… relief. And guilt.

  And what about Lucian? I don’t know how to feel. But nothing matters without him.

  The thought causes a large lump to form in my throat and tears to sting my eyes.

  When I step into Sandra’s office, she’s waiting for me in her leather tufted chair, her legs crossed in front of her, her notepad and pen in hand. It’s after hours, but when I called she said she’d be here. She’ll never know how much that means to me. Her hair is loose in her bun and her cream-colored blouse is a bit wrinkled from being worn all day, but she’s here for me.

  “Dahlia,” she greets me warmly with a gentle smile. She gestures at the couch across from her. “Please, have a seat.”

  “Thank you,” I say softly, feeling nervousness start to set in, and trembling slightly. Barefoot, I walk over and sink onto the couch, pulling my legs up under me, sucking in a deep breath and exhaling slowly.

  “Now, would you like to tell me what’s bothering you?” Sandra asks me when I’m fully seated, her soft voice soothing the turmoil that’s roiling beneath the surface. Her pale blue eyes focus on me behind her glasses.

  I open my mouth to speak, but then close it when I realize something critical I missed on the way over. I can’t tell her anything that will incriminate Lucian, so I’m going to have to be very careful talking about my uncle’s death. I sit there for a moment, my mind racing on what I could safely disclose. I run my hand over my face, hating this and hating everything.

  “Dahlia?” Sandra prods gently.

  “My uncle is dead,” I announce, suddenly deciding that I will just go with a variation of the truth. Hopefully Sandra won’t read too much into it.

  Sandra lowers her pen to pad, scribbling, and frowns. “Oh, dear, Dahlia. I’m sorry to hear that.”

  I nod. I should be crying right now, but I can’t summon a single fucking tear. Or maybe I shouldn’t. I know it must look odd, but I can’t help it. “Shot in the back of his head twice.” I hate how flat my words sound, I could be talking about a piece of trash off the street.

  And that’s what he was, I tell myself. A piece of trash. But that doesn’t make his murder right. And I know it. I just can’t bring myself to care. I bite my thumbnail, just trying to think straight.

  Sandra shakes her head, anguish flashing in her eyes. “That’s horrible. I’m truly sorry, Dahlia.” She sets her pen down on the pad and leans forward. “Was this the uncle who hurt you?” her voice is soft and full of understanding.

  I nod my head, brushing the bastard tears away. “Yes, and he’s dead now.”

  “I see. How do you feel about that?”

  “I…” I pause, feeling a weight on my chest, “I feel like I’m somewhat responsible for his death.”

  Sandra writes something down on her notepad and then looks up at me, her face twisted with curiosity. “Why is that?”

  I shrug while shaking my head. Of course I can’t tell her everything, but I feel like admitting a partial truth will help me deal with my guilt. “I just do.”

  Sandra scribbles several lines and then focuses her kind eyes on me, compassion flashing in them. “You can’t blame yourself for your uncle’s death, Dahlia. It’s not healthy.”

  I shake my head. “Yes, I can. It’s because of me he’s dead.”

  Sandra frowns at the conviction in my voice. “Why do you say that?”

  “I don’t know, I just feel responsible for it in some way.” I choke on my words. “But I don’t feel bad about it,” I admit. “Except for the guilt I feel about not caring, I feel kind of relieved actually. Like, I’m totally happy he’s dead.” The silence that follows presses down upon me, and I cringe. I hate how that makes me sound, but I can’t help it. It’s the truth. I look over at Sandra and she’s watching me, sitting very still. I wonder what’s going on in her head. “Does that make me a bad person?”

  Sandra scribbles more notes down on her notepad before looking back up at me. “Considering what he did to you, no. Not at all.” She pauses as if thinking about how to formulate a question. “But now that he’s dead, do you think his death will help you?” She pauses again, but I know exactly what she means. “It’s important I document the impact that it has on you.”

  Hugging my knees to myself, I shake my head. “No. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I finally was able to let that all go.” That same guilt comes back over me, but I push it away. I hate the fact that I’m happy about my uncle being dead, but I can’t help myself.

  “I see.”

  I cover my face with my hands as I lean forward crying. It’s because of Lucian. It’s all because of him.

  “Dahlia,” Sandra’s soft voice prods me as she rises from her seat, the sounds accompanying my sobs.

  He killed him for me. My heart clenches. I’m a horrible person for loving him for that. That’s truly what I feel. It’s so fucked up.

  Her small hands rub soothing circles on my back. “Have you been able to talk to your partner about this?” she asks me in a small voice. ”Lucian?”

  I nod my head, wiping under my eyes and reaching for the Kleenex in her hand.

  “Do you think you’ll be able to confide in him?” she asks. I don’t know. My heart squeezes with pain. This is so real. It’s so much to take in. I love him. I know I love him, and I can’t bear the thought of him leaving me. The contract is over, but I’m not signing another. I want him. I want a commitment. I need it. I need him.

  Chapter 29

  Lucian

  I gave her a chance to come back to me on her own, and she didn’t. I’m not going to wait. I refuse to.

  The thirty days are over, we have no contract. This is just me and her.

  I check my phone one last time before grabbing my keys and opening the door. I swing it open and my heart stops as I stare back at Dahlia. Her eyes are red-rimmed and her hair is a mess.

  She came back to me. I’m still in the doorway as she looks up at me with uncertainty. I can’t believe she’s here. My heart thuds in my chest as she brushes her hair behind her ears and parts her lips.

  “Lucian,” she says and her voice is soft.

  “You came back.”

  She visibly swallows and takes in a sharp breath. I open the door wider and step to the side. I still can’t believe she’s here. I thought I’d have to drag her back here. I’m hesitant to think anything positive though. She’s obviously not well. And we need to set ground rules. We need to make sure we’re on the same page.

  She walks in slowly, her hands gripping the strap of her purse. This is either going to go one of two ways. Either she’s here to end it, or she’s here to stay. And if she’s staying, I’m never letting her go.

  Her heels click, the sound reverberating off the walls of the foyer as I close the door.

  “I’m struggling, Lucian.” She turns to face me, still tightly gripping the strap.

  I know she is, but everything is going to be alright. “Talk to me, treasure; I want to help you.”

  She takes in a shaky breath, finally putting her purse down on the table and walking toward me. I open my arms and she walks into my embrace freely. I breathe easy, feeling her pressed against me. Knowing she wants to be held by me. I kiss her hair as she nuzzles her cheek against my chest.

  “I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to leave,” I apologize. “What I did was something that needed to be done. It wasn’t meant to hurt you or to make you afraid of me.”

  She nods her head in my chest, but she’s quiet. I just need her to open up. I need to know what she’s thinking.

  “I don’t want you to leave again. I need you to stay, treasure.”

  “I don’t want to leave, I want you,” she whispers into my chest.

  “Forgi
ve me.” My voice is pained. If I had to do it all over again, I still would’ve killed him. I know I would have.

  “It’s not about forgiveness. I think… I love you, Lucian. And that scares the hell out of me.” Her confession breaks the wall of insecurity between us. I breathe easily, holding her closer to me and rewarding her honesty with a sweet kiss. My lips mold to hers and I pour my passion into the kiss, needing her to feel it. My hands travel along her body, wanting to claim every inch, but she pulls away slightly, breathing heavily with her eyes closed.

  I can feel a but coming. I blink the lust-filled haze away and wait for more. Just tell me what you need, treasure. I’ll give you anything.

  “I’m not okay right now, and all I want is you, but it’s not the same for you…”

  I pull away from her with my brows pinched. “What do you mean it’s not the same for me? You don’t think I want you? I’ve given you everything I can. I don’t want to lose you.”

  “It’s just. The contract-” The fucking contract. Just hearing her bring it up makes me snap. I don’t care about it. I don’t want anything in between us. My blood heats, and all I want to do is show her how much she means to me.

  “Fuck the contract! Just don’t leave me!” I stare deep into her eyes, feeling the emotions consuming me. I’m just as raw and vulnerable as she is. “I love you, Dahlia. I want you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you.”

  She takes in a sharp breath, her eyes searching my face. They’re filled with hope and doubt.

  I need to erase that doubt. I can handle anything but that. I want her passion; I want her heart. I want her everything.

  “I love you and I can’t let you go,” I whisper as I pull her close to me, crushing her small body against mine and molding my lips to hers.

  She pulls away from me, and I don’t want to let her go. I don’t want to break the kiss and lose her.

  My eyes are closed as the warmth from our breath comes between our lips, but her body stays pressed against mine. My hands slip up the back of her shirt, feeling her soft skin against mine, keeping her close to me.

  “Let me love you forever,” I say softly. That’s all I want. It’s all I need. “Don’t leave me again.”

  “Never. I’ll never leave.” A weight lifts off my chest as I crash my lips against hers again, needing to feel her. Needing to show her what she means to me.

  “I love you, Lucian.” Her words make my eyes slowly open and I stare into those beautiful hazel eyes.

  “I love you, treasure.”

  Epilogue

  Lucian

  I love that collar around her neck. My collar. The gold and diamonds belong there, letting everyone know she’s a treasure. My treasure.

  What’s better is how much she loves wearing it. She loves being mine. That’s all she wants, and that’s something I can always give her. Every day that passes I want her more.

  “Are you ready for the show?” I ask my treasure as the waitress collects our empty dinner plates. We’ve been coming here more often. Club X. It’s definitely helping her to learn how Dominants and Submissives are equals in their partnership. The show tonight will really bring that to light.

  Her eyes still light up with awe at everything the club has to offer. She’s certainly not a voyeur, but when the lights dim and the curtains open, she always asks to climb in my lap. She knows my fingers will travel right where she needs them as we watch. My lips are at her neck. My dick is already hardening. Soon.

  Isaac invited us to see the show tonight.

  He’ll be on the stage tonight, but it’s not with his Submissive. He’s yet to collar her, or rather, she hasn’t been willing to let him collar her. It’s been nearly a month of them finding each other’s limits within the club’s boundaries. No Dom has gone near her since they’ve started their play. But there’s still no collar around her neck. She submits for the shows and in the playrooms. She lets him take her to the private rooms. But it ends once she leaves the club, and she’s yet to accept any commitment.

  I don’t understand the dynamic, but it’s not my place to question it.

  Dahlia breathes in deep, setting her spoon down on the dessert plate. “I’m really excited.” She’s hardly eaten. It must be her nerves.

  “Stop worrying.”

  She’s been letting the stress of going to my sister's party get to her. Christmas is only a week away and I know she’s anxious. They hit it off last week when we went to dinner. We even got Italian water ice afterward, despite the cold temps. Both of them got lemon, of course. My treasure has nothing to worry about. Anna loves her already, for showing me I can love again. I'll always have my sister, and now with treasure it feels more like a complete family. I'll never be able to let the rest of my family in, but I'm finally at peace with that.

  I take her small hand in mine and turn it over, kissing her wrist. I close my eyes and hum at her soft touch.

  “I love you, treasure,” I say and kiss her wrist again. It’s her left hand and I know I’m going to be putting my ring there soon. I want everyone to know she belongs to me.

  “I love you, too,” she says sweetly, leaning in and kissing me on the lips. I can feel the eyes of other couples on us.

  “Settle down, treasure,” I warn her, nipping her bottom lip. She smiles sweetly and obeys. She’s still the perfect Submissive. Even when she doesn’t think we’re playing. I’m still not sure she quite understands, but she trusts me and that’s what matters. The trust between us is the only thing that matters.

  Continue on for Book 2, Sold.

  Sold. Book 2

  Prologue

  Isaac

  I’m silent as I step into her room, taking in the sight of her tempting curves. She’s spread for me as she lies on her back, her knees bent and heels digging into the mattress. My dick hardens in my pants as I see her pussy bared to me and glistening with need.

  It’s been so long since I’ve wanted something so intensely; she’s devouring my every waking moment. Katia, my little kitten. Even when I close my eyes, she’s there. I’m practically obsessed.

  And now I have her.

  My heart pounds with anticipation as I walk slowly toward her, the plush carpet muting the sounds of my movements.

  In this moment, she’s lost in her thoughts. Her expression is smooth, and her chest rises and falls with easy pressure. She belongs to no one. Not to me, not to her past.

  The thick comforter beneath her small frame appears completely white, but upon closer inspection I can see the thin silver threads woven throughout create a faint damask pattern. The strands match the color of the thin scars that mar her soft skin, trailing from her shoulders down her back.

  They only partially display her pain, but they also show her strength; they’re proof of what she’s overcome.

  She has more healing to do. I’m going to help her. I know what she needs, and I can be the person who soothes her pain by showing her the intense pleasure this kind of relationship can bring. A dark part of me craves it.

  She refused my collar for weeks. I knew she wanted it, but the last one she wore wasn’t by choice.

  It’s only several steps until I’m standing over her, admiring her gorgeous features. Her plump lips that beg me to kiss her, and her long blonde hair fanned out beneath her sun-kissed shoulders.

  My gaze drifts to my collar, firmly fitted around her neck. She could take it off if she wanted. But she won’t. She craves the trust and the bond between a Dominant and Submissive. But she needs the relationship of a Master and Slave.

  And now she has that. I’m proud that I gave that to her.

  At my seemingly sudden touch, her whimpers fill the silent room. Fuck. She’s soaking wet waiting for me. My fingers trail over her soft, wet folds and I marvel at how ready for me she is, my dick straining against the zipper of my pants. Her head falls back slightly while soft moans escape her lips, but with the blindfold over her eyes, she can’t see me. She didn’t even know I was next to her until
the tips of my fingers were hot and slick with her arousal.

  I can prove to her that she can trust again, and she can sate my desire for complete control.

  The moment she agreed and stepped onto that stage to be sold, she was mine.

  “I’ve missed you, kitten,” I murmur in a deep voice and even cadence that make her lips part with desire.

  “I’ve missed you, Master,” she breathes into the hot air, her breath coming in ragged and need lacing her voice. Her soft voice mirrors her skillful obedience. Obedience she learned from someone else, but it’s mine now.

  It’s only been a few hours, but knowing what I had to do, the pressing matters that kept me away, made the hours seem like days and I truly missed her touch.

  Her tight walls squeeze my fingers as I shove two in. I have to close my eyes as the divine feel of her begs me to take her in this moment. Instead, I pump my fingers in and out, listening to the wet noises mixed with the sounds of her soft moans. She deserves to be rewarded for waiting like the good girl she is.

  Katia bites down on her lip, muffling her cries of pleasure. Her sticky wetness drips down my wrists. She’s obviously missed my touch just as much.

  I watch her gorgeous body as she resists the natural instinct to writhe on the large bed as I stroke against her front wall, feeling the fires of desire stoking ever higher.

  Sometimes she prefers to be bound, the thick coarse rope holding her to the bed. Sometimes she even enjoys having it tied around herself. The sight of her waiting for me bound and helpless… I won’t lie; I fucking love it.

  Never her ankle though. I’ll never wrap anything around her ankle.

  The dim light in the room barely reflects the jewels shimmering from her studded ankle bracelet. It hides scars that have yet to fully heal for her. It’s heavy, mimicking the weight of the chain that once pierced into her skin at the bone. It’s her choice to wear it. One day, when I’ve truly given her freedom from her past, she’ll throw it away forever.