The Auction: A Dark Romance: Chapter 5

The heat begins to fade as my body cools from Riggs stepping away and leaving me. I stare at my naked body, restrained to the wall, still red-cheeked from how Riggs touched me, with a thousand thoughts attacking me.

A debate flares inside me. Common sense tells me to yell for Riggs to release me. This is already out of my comfort zone. No one’s ever been so aggressive with me. It should scare me, but if I’m being honest, it wasn’t fear that raged throughout me.

It was excitement.

I’m unsure if it’s because it’s Riggs, and I’ve harbored too many feelings for him for way too long that I don’t believe he would ever hurt me, or if it’s something else. But if anyone else had done to me what he did, I would have been petrified.

Something deep inside me that I didn’t know existed rears its head, making me question if I’ve lost my sanity. It’s a craving to see what else Riggs will unleash upon me. There’s a desire to prove to him that I can handle whatever he wants to do to me better than any other woman he’s done it to.

Maybe I’m crazy. When I was eighteen, I wondered what he did with other women. I pretended I was one of them, but I knew I never could be. He was too tight with my father. Then he cornered me on my twenty-first birthday. It was the last time I ever saw him.

That night, I vowed that if he ever touched me again, I would prove to him I was worth taking the risk and getting past whatever loyalty he felt toward my father.

Now, whatever is going on between him and my father seems to have allowed him to get past the barrier that used to be between us. So while one part of my brain screams at me to get out of here, the other won’t let me. It reminds me of the ache I’ve never lost all these years, wondering what it would be like to have Riggs as mine. So even though he’s into things I’m too naive about, the memories won’t let me run.

A long time passes. I start to shiver from the cold, with goose bumps breaking out on my skin. My teeth chatter, and I grow tired of my body being in the restrained position. Sleepiness sets in, and I fight the urge to doze off.

The physical agony almost makes me break my resistance. And then the real questions come.

I stare at the expensive gold band around my neck, wondering why Riggs even has it.

Jealousy ripples through me, making me shiver harder. Something about the possibility wakes me up. I don’t take my focus off it as the cold continues to sear through me.

The only thing that tears my eyes off it is when I hear Riggs state, ‘You look cold, pet.’

I jerk my head toward him. ‘How many women wore this before me?’

Amusement fills his blue eyes. He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms, pointing out, ‘You’ve been in here three hours, and that’s what you want to know?’

Anger suddenly replaces my anxiety. I seethe, ‘Was there something else I was supposed to think about? Did I not pass your test?’

His lips twitch. He steps forward, turns on the oversized tub, and adds bubbles. Then he moves in front of me and slips his fingers under the collar, grasping it, so his knuckles press into my neck. He reaches around my body. His warm palm grips my ass, and he tugs me tight against his frame.

A deep-rooted quiver rips through my core. He shifts his body, and his erection presses into my stomach. He murmurs, ‘Why didn’t you yell for me to release you?’

Defiance floods me. I ignore the zings bursting through my cells and square my shoulders, hating and loving his arrogant expression in equal measure.

He slides his knuckles over my neck, and the tension grows, creating the same nervous anticipation I felt when he put his hand on my neck earlier. His lips move an inch in front of mine, and he challenges, ‘Is my pet a jealous pet?’

More humiliation fills me. I curse myself for asking him about the collar, but then I reprimand myself. I assert, ‘I don’t care what’s in the contract, Riggs. If I’m here, with you, no other women.’

A mix of surprise and approval takes over his expression. He stays quiet, assessing me.

‘I mean it. Promise me, or I’m going,’ I threaten.

‘What did I tell you, Blakely?’ he questions, lifting his thumb and tracing my lips.

I close my eyes, suddenly exhausted beyond anything I’ve ever felt and getting a new adrenaline wave brewing in my veins. I admit, ‘I don’t know. I’m so tired.’

He leans into my ear, and tingles burst where his breath hits my skin. He claims, ‘You’re my pet. I’m in charge. You don’t make demands.’

My eyelids fly open. I turn to him, snarling, ‘It’s not negotiable.’

He chuckles, releases my collar, and slides his hands over my wrists, unlatching the cuffs.

‘It’s not funny,’ I reprimand.

He spins me, massages my wrists, then arms, and I close my eyes again, feeling the rush of exhaustion once more. His arm slides around my waist and pins me against him. He murmurs, ‘Relax, Blakely. I’m a one pet owner.’

I glare at him in the mirror.

‘What? You don’t want to be my pet?’ he taunts, cupping my pussy and arching his eyebrows.

I stay quiet, torn between wanting him to repeat what he did to me earlier and wishing I could go to sleep.

He chuckles again, then swoops down and picks me up so I’m fully in his arms.

I gasp, then stare at him in question.

He states, ‘You need a bath, Blakely. Your feet are black.’

Embarrassment floods me. ‘Oh. Sorry.’

He pecks me on the lips and then sets me in the warm bubble bath.

I sink into it, and a tiny moan flies out of me. The water feels like heaven.

Riggs picks up a washcloth, pours soap on it, then lifts one of my feet out of the tub and questions, ‘Why are your feet black?’

I open my mouth and then snap it shut. Maybe it’s best if he doesn’t know about my father’s men. If he has his secrets with my father, then perhaps I should too?

‘I asked you a question, Blakely,’ he demands.

I decide a half-truth is best and reveal, ‘I was late to the auction and didn’t want to run in my stilettos.’

His piercing gaze never leaves mine as he scrubs my feet. He asks, ‘Why were you late?’

‘I came from my job.’

‘And where is that?’

My stomach flips. I’m not embarrassed by where I work, but Riggs is my father’s partner. Surely he’ll look down upon it?

‘Just tell me the truth. Don’t ever lie to me,’ he orders, as if he can read my thoughts.

‘I’m a server at a place called Cheeks,’ I confess.

Riggs doesn’t flinch. ‘The strip club?’

‘Yes. You’ve been there?’ I inquire.

‘No.’

‘Oh,’ I say, suddenly feeling super exposed.

He glances at my foot, lowers it, and picks up the other one. He asks, ‘You’re a server or stripper there?’

‘Server. I just said server,’ I angrily answer.

‘Easy,’ he says in a low voice.

‘Don’t judge other women or me for what we do to survive,’ I chastise.

His tone stays neutral. ‘Who said I was judging?’

I glare at him, crossing my arms over my chest under the bubbles, pointing out, ‘I know you’d never understand what it’s like since you grew up with a silver spoon in your mouth, but there’s a lot of hardworking people trying to make ends meet. It’s not right to judge them.’

He freezes. The washcloth stays pressed against my foot. He scowls. ‘I just told you I wasn’t judging. And before you get all defensive, get your facts straight.’

‘My facts? About what?’ I question.

He clenches his jaw and glances at the ceiling. He takes a few breaths, then returns to cleaning my foot. He releases it and pushes a bottle toward me. ‘Wash the makeup off your face.’

His tone makes me think he doesn’t approve of it. I ask, ‘Is there something wrong with my makeup?’

He studies me, then replies, ‘When did you start wearing so much?’

‘It’s not that much,’ I claim.

‘No? Seems like a lot more than what you used to wear,’ he comments.

I pour the facewash in my hand, and note, ‘I’m on stage a lot.’

His disapproval intensifies. He adds, ‘So? You don’t need it.’

My heart swoons. I don’t doubt Riggs means what he stated. He isn’t a bullshitter. It’s one of the things that annoyed my father. He would declare Riggs needed to learn how to schmooze his friends better. Riggs would always claim otherwise.

I wash my face and rinse it with fresh water, then Riggs unplugs the bathtub, asserting, ‘Time for bed.’

‘Are you going to answer me about what facts I got wrong?’ I push, not wanting him to ignore my inquiry.

He rises, reaches for my armpits, and lifts me to my feet. He moves me onto the mat, grabs a towel, and wraps it around my body.

‘Riggs?’ I demand.

He takes another towel, diligently dries me off, fists my hair, and tugs on it. I gasp as he positions his face over mine. In a no-nonsense voice, he claims, ‘It’s bedtime. You need your rest.’

‘What about you? Don’t you need rest?’ I hurl.

‘Sometimes.’

‘You don’t sleep?’

‘No more questions, pet.’ He spins me, leads me to the bedroom, pulls the covers back, and motions for me to get in.

I slide in, and he tugs the blankets over me. ‘Go to sleep,’ he orders, then disappears into the bathroom, and the sound of the shower hits my ears.

I fight the urge to sleep, and after several minutes, the glow of his naked body is next to the bed. Butterflies erupt in my belly and then I glance down and gape at the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen.

It’s long and girthy, complete with a perfectly smooth head that instantly makes my mouth water.

‘Like what you see?’ he arrogantly asks.

Embarrassed, I curl into the pillow, wondering what it would feel like to have Riggs inside me.

‘Open your eyes, pet,’ he demands in his commanding tone.

I obey, unable to defy him.

He pats the mattress. ‘On your knees, ass on your calves.’

I swallow hard, my pulse kicking up several notches.

‘Don’t make me repeat it, or you’ll be punished for the rest of the night,’ he threatens.

I obey, positioning my body as instructed. He steps in front of me, positioning his cock right in my face. My breath hitches. I glance up at him.

He reaches for my chin, caressing it with his thumb, stating with approval, ‘Good girl. You always wait for my directions, understand?’

I stay quiet, my chest rising and falling faster.

He commands, ‘Sit on your hands.’

I arch my eyebrows at him.

He returns my stare with a challenging look.

I slide my palms under my ass.

He strokes my hair, tucking a few locks behind my ear, his erection in front of my face growing harder by the minute.

My mouth waters so much that I have to lick my lips.

‘How many men have you been with, Blakely?’

I tear my gaze off his dick and stare at his six-pack, feeling super vulnerable. Nothing I’ve done with anyone has prepared me to be with Riggs. They’re all boys compared to him.

He softly says, ‘Look at me and tell me.’

I slowly glance up, admitting, ‘Three.’

Arrogant satisfaction explodes on his face. He quizzes, ‘Were any of them past their twenties?’

I shake my head.

He continues, ‘Did they have cocks like mine?’

I swallow hard and shake my head again.

He leans down and murmurs in my ear, ‘Do you know what I learned tonight when I slid my fingers inside you?’

Heat rolls through me, and I don’t know why. I barely whisper, ‘What?’

He drags his knuckles over my bare breast, then traps my nipple between two of his fingers. He admits, ‘I assumed you’d be tight, pet. But you’re tighter than I thought.’

My cheeks flush with fire. I turn away, but he moves my chin back so I’m facing him.

He locks eyes with me. ‘Why are you embarrassed?’

I take a deep breath. My insides quiver, but I don’t know if it’s from lust or humiliation.

‘Are you on anything?’ he questions.

‘I don’t do drugs. Well, I’ve had some weed, but that’s it,’ I blurt out.

He bites on his smile and shakes his head. ‘No. I meant birth control.’

More embarrassment fills me. ‘Oh jeez. Umm…no. I’m, umm… I don’t take it unless I’m with someone.’

‘That’s what I thought. Roll over on all fours and stick your ass in the air,’ he instructs.

‘What? Why?’

‘You really do have an issue with questioning authority figures. We’re going to need to work on this,’ he declares.

‘I’ll do what you want but…umm…you’ll put a condom on, right?’ I fret, reprimanding myself for not even thinking about birth control once tonight.

He grinds his molars, then reaches for me. He flips me so quickly onto my stomach, I gasp. His hard frame presses against my back, and his erection slides between my thighs.

I turn my cheek and press it to the mattress.

He brings his lips to my ear and says, ‘I told you I’d protect you, right?’

‘Yes,’ I answer, shifting my hips so the tip of his cock hits my entrance.

‘I meant it,’ he states.

A sharp pain shoots through my ass cheek, and I yelp. My back arches, but Riggs’s frame holds me steady.

‘Shh,’ he coos, kissing my neck.

‘Riggs? What…?’

‘It’s just a birth control shot. It’s okay,’ he informs me and rubs my ass cheek. He adds, ‘But for your information, there’s no way I’m using a condom with you. My bloodwork was attached to the contract for your review, so you don’t have to worry about my status. If you looked at it, you would have seen it.’

I close my eyes, suddenly so tired and overwhelmed by everything, I just want to sleep.

Riggs rises, and the loss of his body heat makes me want him to lie back on me. He pats the mattress. ‘Bedtime.’

I don’t argue and slide under the covers.

He goes into the bathroom—I assume to dispose of the needle—and then returns. He gets in bed next to me, and I curl into him.

His body freezes.

‘What’s wrong?’ I mumble.

‘Did I say you could touch me?’ he questions.

I lift my head and look at him to see if he’s serious.

‘Well?’ he asks.

Something about it makes me emotional. Maybe it’s too much, or I’m taking it as rejection, but my bottom lip trembles. I blink and roll away from him, curling into a fetal position and hugging the pillow.

He slides down, turning toward me. He doesn’t touch me, but I can feel his body heat permeating my skin. It’s like torture. I want to curl up in his arms and don’t understand why I can’t. He asks, ‘Where have you been all these years?’

‘Living,’ I answer, then yawn.

‘Meaning?’ he pushes.

I contemplate how to answer his questions. I finally mumble, ‘Singing. Trying to make my dream happen.’

‘Where do you sing?’

I shrug. ‘Wherever I can.’

‘Want to be more specific?’

I blurt out, ‘Want to tell me what’s going on with you and my father?’

Silence fills the air. The longer it lasts, the thicker the tension gets.

I finally spin and realize he’s way closer to me than I thought. I quietly ask, ‘Why do you care?’

He doesn’t hesitate, answering, ‘I’ve always wondered where you went. You’ve been here this entire time, and your father couldn’t locate you. I know the resources he’s spending. So I find it amazing that you were able to still work on your dream and avoid him.’

I keep my thought to myself and admit, ‘I mostly sing at the Lizard Lounge. But there are other venues from time to time.’

‘I’m surprised an agent hasn’t picked you up. I remember you singing. You have talent,’ he says.

Pride fills me. Something about Riggs saying that to me hits me hard. ‘Thank you.’

‘You do. So why do you think you haven’t gotten an agent yet?’

‘Who said I don’t have one?’

He arches his eyebrows. ‘Do you?’

I wince. ‘No. I need a demo tape. I’ve been saving, but it’s expensive if you do it right. And you definitely want to do it right so they take you seriously.’

He studies me for a while, then says, ‘I’m sorry about your father.’

‘What do you mean?’ I ask.

‘He drove you away. I’m sorry you got a bum deal in the father department.’

I shrug, then yawn again.

Riggs kisses me on the forehead, then says, ‘Get some sleep, pet.’

I reach up and touch the collar. ‘Can I take this off to sleep?’

‘Is it too tight?’ he asks.

‘No.’

‘Then why do you want it off?’

I shake my head. ‘I don’t know. Why do I need it on?’

He slides his hand under it and curls his fingers around the gold.

My pulse quickens. I squeeze my thighs together.

His lips curl, and a sinister expression fills his face. ‘Because of that, right there.’

‘What?’

He slides his hands between my legs and slowly circles my clit with his middle finger. His other hand pulls on the collar, adding more tension to it.

I shift my hips, and my breath shortens.

‘You like it, pet. You enjoy knowing who you belong to. And when this collar is on, you’re mine. So your collars will stay on at all times until our year is up, understand?’ he states.

More surprise fills me. ‘Collars?’

His lips twist, and butterflies ignite in my belly. In a low voice, he adds, ‘You’ll soon understand. Go to sleep, pet.’ He releases my collar and removes his hand from my thighs, then comes toward my face. I hold my breath, thinking he’s going to really kiss me this time, but he gets an inch from my lips, stares at them, then turns away from me.

Suddenly, I’m no longer tired. All I can think about is what it’ll be like to kiss Riggs. And my mind is racing with too many questions that only Riggs or time can answer.