Sold to the Hottest Bidder

by Layla Valentine

  I wrapped both legs around him as our lips enmeshed and his cock rubbed against my pussy.

  “Why can’t you just…”

  He paused and, pulling his lips away from mine, asked, “What was that?”

  I only shook my head, so he pressed his dick against me harder.

  “What was that?” he asked again.

  I moved my lips to his ear and, licking and sucking, moaned, “Let me go.”

  Grabbing me and tossing me onto my back, he lunged forward and shoved his hand down my sweatpants. His fingers toyed with my clit.

  “Is that what you really want?” he asked with a cruel smile.

  I could only moan as a response as his fingers slid up and pulled off the sweats.

  “Nice panties, princess.”

  It was a joke; I hadn’t worn any for the past day since I didn’t have any clean clothes to change into.

  “If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you wanted to fuck me.”

  He slipped his hand back and gave my ass a loud “whack!”

  He took off my bra in one swift motion, leaving my lying completely naked before him. His gaze slid over me, down and up, down and up again.

  “Jesus, Alice,” he murmured.

  He grabbed my ass and I grabbed his shirt, the white cotton soft as I pulled it over his head, revealing his muscles. As he stroked me, my hands ran over the tattoos. Every time I saw them, I noticed more details, like how this green-bodied, red-fanged snake strangely somehow looked kind with its wide-open yellow eyes and a pink smile that was almost gentle.

  My hands followed the long trail of the snake, from its head in the center of his chest, to its body snaking down and disappearing under the band of his sweatpants. But now Jake’s tongue was probing my lips, parting them and slipping in farther, almost down my throat, acting out what his fingers wanted to do as they probed my other lips.

  “Fuck, you’re wet,” he said, inserting two of his fingers easily.

  I could only let out a low moan as he pushed his fingers inside me and, with his other hand, grabbed my breast, moving in the same slow, torturous rhythm. Now his mouth was locked on my neck, sucking in the same slow-building rhythm that was turning my entire body into one throb of want. My hands moved frantically and yanked down his sweatpants until he was as naked as I was.

  His cock rising to meet me, he slipped out his fingers, flipped me around, and slapped my ass again, harder this time.

  “Who said you could do that?” he hissed in my ear, and I shoved my ass up in response.

  “Please,” I moaned, but he only pressed my face to the bed with his hand.

  Then, pressing his dick between my ass cheeks from behind, he growled into my neck. “I’ll fuck you when I want to, and not a second before.”

  I tried to twist around, but he held both my arms down. Then, running a finger from the top of my head, down the length of my back, and in between my ass cheeks, he probed my pussy from behind, sticking in just the tip of his finger.

  “So wet. So very wet, princess.”

  He stuck his finger in farther and, as I quivered, asked, “What would you do right now to get fucked?”

  He slid his finger out and stepped back. I got up, turned around, and took him in: his glittering eyes, parted lips, every inch of him concentrated on the unbearably wet, throbbing slit between my legs. As I kneeled down before him, he put his hand on my shoulder.

  His cock was thick, riddled with veins that seemed to match his tattoos. When I put my tongue to it, his hand moved to my head. I ran my tongue all over it, up and down and around again, as if it was a Popsicle I had to get every taste of. I slid the tip of his dick over my lips and, as his hand tightened in my hair, shoved it between them. Jake let out a low groan of pleasure as I took him into my mouth, down all the way to the base, when the tip of his dick rammed the back of my throat.

  Jake’s hand was clasping and unclasping my hair, urging me on, though I needed no urging. I wanted him, this; I wanted the length of him in me. And so, as I slid up and down, my tongue twirling along to my own impatient rhythm, I cupped his balls, opening my mouth farther to take him deeper.

  He groaned, and I did it again. I gave it to him in long, torturous, tongue-flicking sucks. Over and over and over again, as his hand gripped my hair, urging me on—faster, harder, deeper. Soon his breathing was shallow. I was so wet it could have been me who was getting sucked off. I was cupping his balls and he was groaning, pulling on my hair with pleasure. Suddenly, his half-lidded eyes opened wide.

  “You ready?”

  Mid-suck, I nodded.

  “You want it?”

  Throwing my head up and down, my tongue mashed its answer against his shaft and then, finally, his base: Y-E-S.

  In response, with a great shuddering, he groaned and poured into me, a hot surge down my throat as I pounded up and down. When I’d had my fill, I slipped off, and, incredibly, he still had more for me. I savored it, let his warmth rain upon me, upon my face. My eyes were closed, my lips parted, my tongue out—and time stopped and there was only this flickering, warm rain. After the last drop, his hand stroked my head, smoothing my hair back.

  His eyes closed while his hands played over my body. It wasn’t for anything but for the movement itself, for the enjoyment of this perfect moment between us. He ran his hands over me like mine was the only body he’d ever touched, like it was the only one he’d ever really felt. And, in a way, maybe it was.

  I lay there while he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me like it was the first time, running his hands through my hair like it was silk. I sank into him, lost myself in him.

  When I opened my eyes, we were under the covers. His head was enveloped by a halo of light. His eyes were intent on me.

  “You’re really something you know.”

  “Hold me,” I whispered, and he did.

  I stared into those eyes, those eyes that were full of want but something else too. Those eyes that—but surely I was wrong—looked like they belonged to a man who would do anything for me.

  It didn’t matter anyway; his hands were stroking me, and all that mattered now was how my body felt. There was no choice anymore, only a giving in. It was a must.

  His finger strokes were slow, light, leaving trembles in their wake. Slowly, he built my pleasure more and more, until his fingers were curling inside me and my whole body was thrashing to their rhythm and my lips were begging him, “Please, give it to me now. Please.”

  And he did. With one easy slide, he was in, and it was perfect.

  God, I was so filled.

  My pussy was screaming in ecstasy already, and it only grew as he pumped himself in and out of me. It was a slow, deep rhythm that was perfect, that was better than perfect, that was gasping out of me with moans and groans that I could hardly take, and yet there he was, fucking me harder, faster, deeper. When he slipped his dick out, I groaned, but when he flipped me around, propped up my ass up with a pillow, and began fucking me from behind, my moans were even more desperate for him to keep going and give me what I needed. It was a deliverance only he could give me.

  Already, I was on the brink, my whole body trembling with pleasure like never before.

  Grasping my chin in his hand as he pumped me slower and rougher, Jake asked, “Are you ready?”

  I nodded.

  Sliding himself all the way in and leaning down so his face was an inch from mine, he growled, “Do you want it?”

  Panting, I nodded.

  So, he gave it to me. Grabbing my hips, he fucked me full throttle, his cock crashing into me, the pleasure surging through me, my moans a foreign wailing, my orgasm coursing through me while I felt his cum inside me.

  We let out one final collective gasp of glorious victory before we collapsed onto the bed, him on top of me, still inside of me, our breaths one sated gasp. We lay there until we fell asleep in the soft morning sunshine.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jake

  Oh God, what
had I done?

  The blissful, sleeping creature before me was too perfect, her soft smile too serene. Her short, thick lashes ruffled slightly as she slept, totally oblivious to the warring sensations going on inside me. Instead of the usual superior self-satisfaction I felt at looking upon another one of my conquests, this time I felt fear.

  Alice was a good girl, a kind, generous, one-of-a-kind woman, and now I had inextricably involved her in my life. As I watched her sleep, as my fingers felt at her in the way I couldn’t get enough of, the realization was terrifying, ridiculous, and yet inevitable. I’d known Alice Pryce all of a few days, yet as I watched her sleep now, I knew I would never be happy watching another do the same.

  I got up and went downstairs. At the bottom of the steps, I already missed her, but I was hungry and needed to get away anyway. I couldn’t stand this helpless feeling.

  The refrigerator was as empty as the possibilities left to me. Alice was to be married; she had her life waiting for her. And me? I was a felon on the run, a criminal too irredeemable to be saved.

  Ransacking every drawer and corner of the old fridge was done in vain. All I found were some onion skins and one little triangle of Laughing Cow cheese that had expired months ago. The freezer wasn’t as dismal. I found a package of hot dogs—just enough for a hungry kidnapper and a sleeping princess. Holding the package, I checked Gerald’s tank. He looked about as miserable as I felt, and as hungry.

  “I’ll feed you after I’ve fed me,” I promised him, turning away.

  I paused, glancing at the door.

  Seeing Gerald reminded me of the others, of the shed, but I didn’t have time for that now. Later, maybe, I could slip away. Who knew what Alice would say once she woke up.

  Cooking the hot dogs was calming, easy. I knew what to do, what pot to get out, the water line already etched on the pot’s old interior. And then, standing there, I got to wait. I didn’t have to worry about what was coming or going, about the beautiful girl in my bed who I might have lost already. All I had to do was stand there and wait and wish it would never end.

  But it did. Too soon, the lid started clattering up and down—signaling it was time to turn down the temperature and take off the lid. Then, after only a few more minutes, filled with a test with a fork and a plop on an artistic-looking cracked plate, our meal was good to go.

  But I wasn’t. I took another useless look at Gerald, paced around the cabin, and then, finally, took a deep breath, grabbed the plate of hot dogs, and made my way up the stairs.

  In my bed, Alice looked completely at ease enveloped in the sheets, like she was a part of them, only a flopped-over foot and a blissful face visible among the expanse of ivory cotton.

  When I sat beside her, she only shifted her position and switched the side of her mouth that was smiling. When I poked at her lips with a hot dog, the pink-lipped side smile grew to cover her whole face. One eye fluttered open, then the other.

  “Jake?” she murmured.

  I lay beside her and slipped the hot dog between her lips.

  “Lunch.”

  She grinned, bit down, chewed, and then, sitting up, sighed.

  “Mmm…”

  We sat there, me feeding her, her smiling and chewing and smiling some more. I couldn’t take not kissing her any longer. My lips met hers, our tongues twirled together, and her hands gripped my face like she couldn’t bear me stopping. My hand slipped under the covers, and the hot dogs tumbled off the plate.

  “Shit,” I said as she giggled.

  Turning on her side to face me, Alice asked, “What now?”

  I lifted another hot dog, slipping it between her lips.

  “Now, we eat.”

  Alice took another bite. Then her expression became grave.

  “And then?”

  There was something in her face that indicated this wasn’t an innocent question; there was an answer I was supposed to give. And yet, while I had no idea what answer she expected or wanted from me, looking into those clear blue, hopeful eyes, I knew what I had to do.

  “Then I have something I want to show you outside.”

  She grabbed a hot dog and slipped it between my lips, nodding.

  “Okay.”

  Finishing the hot dogs took longer than I would’ve thought. Although Alice was ravenous, taking two huge bites at a time, it was the kissing that did us in. Every few bites, I’d glance over, see those intent, expectant eyes doing the same, and I couldn’t resist. I had to kiss her.

  And so I did, our kisses delicious and warm, my hands delighting in her body once more.

  God, I wanted her. And yet, I stopped my hands at her waist, stopped them from going farther toward their true desire. If I got started at that again, I’d never stop, and we’d never get anything done.

  When the hot dogs were gone and we’d had one last long kiss, I broke away. I walked over to my closet, picked out the biggest and longest shirt I had, and tossed it at her.

  “Some new fashion for you to rock.”

  She grinned and, cocking her head at me, asked, “Pants?”

  I shook my head and she pouted, so I threw her a clean pair of boxers. Hurrying downstairs stopped me from kissing her again as she got dressed. She followed me shortly after.

  “C’mon,” I said. “We’ve got to get some food for Gerald, but first I have to show you something.”

  “Okay,” she replied.

  And so we walked out of the cabin.

  Pip somehow knew already. She was grinning at the two of us as she danced at our feet, barking her congratulations for what we had done and what we were about to do. It wasn’t far to the shed, and Alice didn’t say much. She understood that now wasn’t a time for speaking but for seeing and understanding.

  The shed was quiet. It was tucked beside some trees, and even just putting my hand on the door calmed me. I swung it open, stepped in, and, grasping her hand, brought her in with me. Now the shed wasn’t quiet, but Alice was. Taking in what she saw, she took a moment before she spoke.

  “Jake… These…they’re all yours?”

  I nodded.

  She took another look at the cages. There was Bernie the owl with his bandaged-up broken wing; Oswald the baby marmot, still suckling its little bottle; and Helen the once half-starved pika, rolling gleefully around her pile of food.

  I regarded my little family, the collection I’d acquired over the past few months of wandering through the Rocky Mountain forests, and the words came forth to explain.

  “I’ve always had this love for animals, like they were beyond all the cruelty people had shown me. Like I could trust them. I found Bernie a few weeks ago, half-paralyzed at the bottom of a tree, abandoned by his family. Oswald I stumbled on a month or so ago, crying out of an empty nest for a mother who never came. Helen was trapped underneath a fallen tree, half-starved and too weak to move. The Internet told me what to do, and experience taught me the rest. These little guys, it’s silly, but they and Pip are the most family I’ve ever known.”

  Bending over, Alice peered into Oswald’s cage, the smile on her face growing.

  “Jake, you know what this means, don’t you?”

  Without waiting for my answer, she continued. “You could do this, Jake. You don’t need to be a criminal forever; you could really do this. You could help animals. You could get a regular job.”

  At my own thoughts voiced by her sweet, eager voice, I threw my arms around her. I held her, my most precious find of all, and she turned around and kissed me, while my animal friends chattered their approval.

  A few minutes later, when we’d finally separated, I asked, “So, you’re okay with going for a food run for the little guys then?”

  Alice grinned and nodded.

  “Of course. What do we have to find?”

  I rhymed off the list I’d memorized by now. “Helen eats sedges, alpine avens, and clover. Oswald will go for most grasses and flowers and any crickets or worms we get for Gerald. Bernie would like to eat Helen or Gera
ld if I’m being perfectly honest, but he’ll settle for some worms and insects too.”

  I held up the container I’d stashed in my pocket.

  “We can use this to collect everything.”

  “Sounds good,” Alice said. “Let’s go.”

  So we did, Pip bounding ahead eagerly while we walked behind. I hardly noticed we were walking; all I noticed was her warm hand in mine. We walked and we felt. We smiled.

  Maybe this was what love was, being able to walk with someone forever. Not really doing much and saying less, and it being all right. It being more than all right—good, great even.

  When I looked over at Alice, she was already looking over at me, smiling like she was thinking the same thoughts. Always ahead, always barking with glee, Pip danced as happily as our thoughts. Even when worry started to creep in about what tomorrow would bring, how in the world this could work, Alice would squeeze my hand just in time and I’d know. With this extraordinary woman by my side, everything was going to be all right.

  As we walked, gradually we spotted what was needed. It was just part of embracing our walking, really, the soft grass under our feet, the cricket smiling up at us. All of it presented itself to us, and we plopped supplies into the container and continued on. The rest of what we needed presented itself to us similarly—some worms by a rock, a bunch of flowers farther on, tucked amid some clover. Grass was everywhere; we just had to stop, pick it up, and drop it in the container.

  I didn’t realize Pip had been taking us back to the pond until we got there. It looked even more beautiful than usual. The willows had flourished in only a day, and it seemed like there was a long strand of leaves over every part of the pond. Sunlight was trickling through them just so, illuminating the strands the wind was playing with.

  Alice was illuminated, her smile soft, her closed eyes haloed as she inhaled the clear air. Then she opened her eyes, fixed her gaze on the pond, and a shadow passed over her face.

  And I realized I had made a terrible, terrible mistake.

  Chapter Thirteen