by Bethany-Kris
Slave.
Emma was frozen to the chair as more lights turned on. With a single pat on her head, the man made a beeline for the only door that would lead out of the room. Not a second later, the voice from earlier was back, echoing up above.
“Cost per bid is five thousand. Bidding starts at one hundred thousand. Increments of ten thousand per bid. Transactions are instant. Begin.”
Immediately, red lights flashed above the mirrors. One after another … after another.
Emma tried to keep up; she tried to count them. There were too many. She found herself clenching her fists tight again, just to keep calm, and biting the inside of her cheek to stay quiet.
Fuck these people.
Fuck their money.
She still wouldn’t cry.
“Stand.”
It was the only thing Emma heard before the sound of a door opening somewhere behind her echoed in the darkness. She had been blindfolded when the red lights stopped blinking, directed out of the circular room, and put in another where she was made to sit again and wait.
At some point, Emma had gone numb.
Maybe it was when the man speaking into the speaker had announced the bids had crossed the million-dollar threshold. Maybe it was when he said it crossed the two million mark.
Emma didn’t know.
But she couldn’t feel the tips of her fingers, anymore. Her mouth was flooded with the metallic taste of blood, as she couldn’t stop biting her cheeks and tongue long enough for the bleeding to quit. Her fingernails had cut into her palms.
She still couldn’t feel a thing.
She still couldn’t breathe.
Emma’s eyes stung from holding back tears and her throat was raw from keeping the panic at bay. Someone had purchased her like a piece of meat at the market less than thirty minutes before. She was someone’s something, now.
Well done, the old woman had said afterward.
Like she should be proud.
Like it was good.
Who were these people?
Uncertain of her fate, Emma stood like she had been told. Being blindfolded left her shaky and unsure of her position in the room as squeaks and soft murmurs echoed around her. She couldn’t discern enough about the voices, but something was familiar.
Cologne.
Woodsy, deep, and warm.
A man.
Emma knew that smell. She was sure she did.
“Tradition for the new clients,” a man said, the one from earlier who had taunted her about the bidding war. “Other bidders almost enjoy seeing a taste of what they lost out on. She didn’t quite break the record, but she came pretty damn close at the two-point-two mark. Another two hundred, and she would have.
“Congratulations. Remember the remarks in her information, she needs to be out of the state by morning.”
Emma shuddered, and finally, her body began to feel again. Pain constricted her chest, squeezing tight and making her ache. Her palms stung and her eyes watered. Nausea caused her to sway on the spot. A hand grazing her shoulder with the softest touch grounded her to the floor instantly.
Not a second later, a door closed.
The scent of the man surrounded Emma, making her feel strangely comforted and maybe even safe. She wasn’t sure why, but his gentle touch on her skin and the smell of his cologne was familiar enough to lull her out of her panic.
“Tradition, he said.”
Emma stilled.
No way.
It wasn’t possible.
“Control your face, Emmy,” came the dark, calm murmur along the shell of her ear. “You wear those emotions on your sleeve, remember?”
Calisto.
Emma’s heart might as well have jumped from her chest. More than anything, she wanted to reach out to find Calisto, grab him tight, and not let go until she was far away from this place and these horrible people.
She tampered the need down.
Calisto’s next words helped a little. “People are watching, so be mindful and follow directions. Seems this room looks a lot like the last room you were in with mirrors for windows.”
Tradition.
What did that mean?
What did the people want to see?
“Okay,” Emma breathed, barely letting her lips move at all.
“You scared the hell out of me.”
“Sorry.”
“I’m sure you are, now. Had you not gotten mixed up in this mess, I doubt you would be saying the same thing.”
Emma didn’t know about that. She’d made a rash decision, hoping to get out of a marriage, and look at how she ended up.
Not much better.
She felt the softness of Calisto’s suit jacket as he moved around her slowly. The tip of his finger stayed pressed on her skin and dragged over her shoulder, across her collarbones, and up her neck to her chin.
At her mouth, he swept the pad of his finger over her parted lips.
“I never told you this, but I like your mouth the best,” Calisto murmured.
Emma shivered, unable to stop the reaction. It was entirely inappropriate, and not the right time, but her body heated at the sound of sex in his tone.
“I like your mouth the best because your top lip is just a little too big for your bottom lip, and your teeth peek out, even when you’re not smiling. It makes your mouth look ready and open to be filled by something—a cock, preferably.”
She sucked in a sharp breath when his finger ghosted back down her neck, between the valley of her breasts, covered by the white chemise, and stopped below her bellybutton.
“I’ve been told they can’t hear what we say in here, but for safety’s sake, I will keep my voice down until they’re satisfied.” Calisto sighed deeply and she felt his finger skim under the hem of the chemise. He continued his slow trek around her still body, lifting the bottom of the chemise and letting it fall across her skin as he went. Oddly, her skin was sensitive enough for the soft fabric to feel like it was caressing her. “I was pissed off at you for running—for fucking this up for me. My life for yours, Emma. That’s what would have happened if I had to go back to New York without you. So yeah, I was pissed.”
“And then?”
Her question came out breathy.
She didn’t understand why.
Pressing her legs together in an attempt to soothe the ache between her thighs, Emma tried to figure out a way to calm down. She shouldn’t be turned on right now. Not knowing what she did and being where she was.
“And then I was scared,” Calisto admitted so quietly she strained to hear. “But there was a reason Affonso decided to let me watch you, and my ability to find people—should the need arise—was at the top of his list. Seems it came in handy, after all.”
She felt three of his fingers ghost along the swell of her ass.
Emma’s entire body lit up under the touch.
She wanted to see him; see his eyes, his face, and what he was doing. She didn’t like the darkness, or the fear still edging around her senses.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Touching you. They want to see something, Emmy,” Calisto told her. “Something to make their loss of cash in the bidding war worth their time and effort. I don’t want them to see a fucking thing—I don’t even want Affonso to see a goddamn single inch of you, but I don’t have a choice. You don’t know this, but I’m a monster.”
“You’re not.”
“I am, but I’m not so much of a monster that I would force you into doing something that you don’t want. I won’t take anything from you, but I have to make it believable. I’ll keep the blindfold on. All you have to do is feel, dolcezza.”
Emma wondered what he meant, but not for long.
“Wider,” Calisto demanded. “Open up for me. Show me what I bought.”
His palm snapped against her thigh. The sting heated up her skin, shocked her still, and made her pussy clench all at the same time.
What was wrong with her?
&nbs
p; “Emma,” he said lower, “do not make me take it from you, please.”
She widened her legs, still shaky and confused. “I want to leave.”
Calisto was there.
He found her; saved her.
Somehow.
Why couldn’t they leave now?
“I know,” Calisto said, offering nothing more. “Do you know how much you went for in there?”
“Two million.”
“Two-point-two.”
He practically growled the number.
Emma swallowed hard. “Oh.”
“Straight out of my offshore bank account, Emmy,” Calisto said.
His hand landed on her ass with a hard snap. Emma jumped in the heels she wore, shocked at the pain that seemed to travel straight from her backside to her sex. She shouldn’t like this, not at all, but she did.
And she couldn’t deny that she liked Calisto.
Then, his palm slid down her ass, kneaded the flesh with enough force for it to hurt, and traveled lower, between her spread legs. His hand cupped her sex through the lace panties, and Emma held her breath.
“You can’t even begin to understand the shit I had to go through today to find you. You scared me.”
How many times had he said that?
She didn’t have to know what he’d done for her.
His voice said it all.
“Thank you,” Emma whispered.
Calisto let out a quiet hum before his fingers rapped along the seam of her panties. She felt the light touch everywhere.
Fucking everywhere.
“You’re wet,” he said softly.
Emma dropped her head, feeling both ashamed and turned on.
“And hot,” he added deeper.
“I—”
Calisto stopped her next words by grabbing under her throat. Emma felt him tilt her head up like he was putting her face on display as his chest molded to her back. His fingers between her thighs began to stroke without warning, sweeping back and forth overtop the lace panties, harder with each swipe.
Emma gasped in a gulp of air, shuddering when Calisto’s fingers rolled against her clit again and again. It felt so fucking good, and terribly bad at the same time. She wanted more, but she knew people were watching, and she didn’t want that at all.
Still, she rolled her hips into his hand.
Like a little whore.
She wanted more.
“Fuck, feel you, ragazza,” Calisto said in her ear. “You want this, huh? And I don’t even have my fingers buried inside you, yet.”
Jesus.
His lips brushed her skin, tantalizing and wicked.
Promising.
“Please,” Emma managed to say.
She wasn’t sure what she was asking for. More of his fingers, more of his touch. More of his words, more of his breath against her skin. Maybe for him to stop, to get her out of there, to make the watching eyes go away.
“I have thought about touching you since I saw you sitting on that sink in the restaurant that day,” Calisto told her, his tone husky. “You jumped down, your dress rode up, and I wondered … And your mouth, of course. I’ve thought about that. I dreamed about you being on your knees, sucking me so deep into your throat that your eyes watered and you still wanted more. I’ve thought about a lot, Emmy.”
Emma whined, unable to do much else.
“Let me do what they want,” Calisto said. “Let me do what I fucking want right now, because I won’t get another chance.”
He wouldn’t, she realized.
He saved her.
Calisto saved her, but he had to take her back. New York was calling her name. An arranged marriage was waiting for her in just a few days. He saved her, just to give her away.
Emma stopped thinking.
She felt instead.
Three of Calisto’s fingers slipped under the lace panties, swept along her hot, sensitive slit, and then plunged inside with a hard, deep thrust. Emma practically fell into his hand, lost in the sensation of his digits filling her, stretching her open, and fucking her hard.
Over and over.
Her wetness smeared to her inner thighs. She heard the sounds of his fingers thrusting in, pulling out, and taking her again. She could smell her sex in the air.
The chill was gone.
She was hot all over.
“Just like I thought,” Calisto said against her neck. “You feel like fucking heaven.”
Emma opened her mouth to say something—anything—but nothing came out.
Calisto’s hand on her neck trailed higher until two of his fingers were pressing between her lips. She sucked his digits in as his fingers fucked her even harder.
She was going to come.
On a bidding block.
With a blindfold on.
In front of God knew who.
But Calisto wanted it, he had said so. Emma gave it to him.
Emma
Calisto’s fingers pulled from Emma’s mouth. The wet digits dragged down over her lips and chin to her neck, where he grabbed tight. She swallowed against the hold, feeling her throat constrict from the firmness in his grip.
The sensations traveling through her nervous system was wicked and sinful, intent on driving her fucking mad. Calisto didn’t let up in the hard thrusts of his fingers. When he started curling them on every drive, seeking and searching, Emma started trembling.
Panting.
Needing
Wanting.
Her fingers twisted into the sides of her chemise, fisted tight, and she bit down on her tongue to try and keep her sounds quiet.
It didn’t work.
“Stop fighting it,” Calisto said darkly.
Emma wanted to fight it; she wanted to push aside the desire to come, the want for her release. Not here. Not with people watching. As much as she loved it, as much as her body betrayed her, it scared her, too.
But she still came.
Hard, fast, squirming in Calisto’s arms, and crying out.
Emma managed to keep the scream of his name from coming out with the rest of her wailing, but barely. It stuck in her throat, trying to claw its way out as bliss and shame warred through the rest of her body.
“There it is,” she heard Calisto whisper in her ear.
Emma shuddered all over.
Something hard and long pressed to Emma’s lower back. The closer Calisto pulled her into his chest, the harder it seemed to feel.
His cock.
He was hard for her, for this.
Emma liked that too much.
His fingers withdrew from her tender pussy, smearing wetness from her slit and back over her ass before she felt his hand come to a stop at the small of her back. It was just the lightest press of his palm on her skin, but it comforted Emma in a way she hadn’t expected.
“Almost done,” he said softly.
Emma didn’t understand what else there was to do. Her mind wouldn’t slow enough to let her think, and already, she wanted more. She shouldn’t want anything from Calisto at all.
Calisto’s hand slid around her hip, down to her thigh, and then he grabbed a handful of the chemise. Still unable to see because of the blindfold, Emma went off the feeling of Calisto’s touch to know what he was doing or what he might want from her.
He lifted the chemise, she felt his lips curve into a smirk at her neck, and his fingers drive down her stomach and under the panties again.
Emma jerked with a whimper the second his fingers came in contact with her hot, sensitive clit. Then, his hand was gone from her panties and she only had a second to think before the blindfold was taken off her face, allowing her to see.
Calisto spun Emma fast on the spot, nearly making her stumble in the white heels she wore. She barely had time to take in the room around them, but it looked similar to the one she had been in for the bidding with glass mirrors, white walls, a lot of lights, and a high ceiling.
Wide-eyed, Emma stared up at Calisto. He wore a black mask that covered half
of his face, but it was him. He was fucking unmistakable to her. Especially his soul-black eyes.
What now?
Calisto’s eyes had turned from their usual hardness, to a softer glimmer as he looked her over. His hand came up to graze her cheek with a light caress. It was brief, barely there, and then it was gone.
But she had felt it.
The coldness was back. His soft touch turned into a stinging burn when he fisted her hair and yanked downward. Sucking in a hiss of air, Emma dropped to her knees instinctively. It put her eye-level with his groin. She could plainly see the length of his rock-hard erection straining against the zipper of his dress pants. Strangely, her fingers twitched with the desire to reach out and feel his cock.
Emma had to get away from that thought, and fast.
She wondered where his suit jacket had gone to, as he only wore a dark-red, silk shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Emma’s stare drifted down the length of Calisto’s arms, following the roped lines of his forearms and the definition of his muscles. At his hands, her lips fell slack at the thought of him fucking her pussy deep while he stuffed her mouth full with his other fingers.
Needing something else to focus on instead of the way her pussy throbbed and her arousal soaked her panties, Emma focused on the ruby ring Calisto wore on his pinky. The golden band glinted under the bright lights. It was the first time she had ever noticed the piece. It fit his hand perfectly without seeming out of place.
Where had he gotten it from?
“I should make you service me while you’re down there,” Calisto said.
Emma blinked, her head snapping up fast. “W-what?”
He wouldn’t.
Would he?
“Unfortunately, I don’t have the urge to watch you swallow a load of my come just yet,” he added with a smirk.
Jesus.
Just yet, he said.
Emma didn’t miss how he phrased that at all.
“Now be a good girl, and keep quiet,” Calisto said.
Before she could even agree, Calisto grabbed for what looked like a white, material bag hanging out of his pocket. He let go of her hair a second before the hood was shoved down over her head.
Emma’s immediate reaction was to scream, but it only came out as a yelp. Panicked, she threw her hands out to find something and keep her steady, but she only came up with air. She could breathe through the soft mesh of the hood covering her head, but she couldn’t see.