Highest Bidder Collection

by Lauren Landish

  “Kitten!” I hold her close to me, keeping her upright as her nails dig into my skin. Shit! I seethe through my teeth as her nails scratch down my arm. My heart twists in my chest so tightly, as if it’s wrapped in barbed wire. The pain is unbearable.

  I hate this. I never thought this would be the outcome.

  “Katia, I’m here.” I call to her, holding her close, but she’s not listening. She’s not here with me. She’s far away and caught in a hell that was meant to be lit on fire and left in her past where it belongs.

  She cries out, her eyes open, but not seeing what’s in front of her. I shake her, I cup her face, forcing her to look at me. “Look at me!”

  But she’s not listening. She’s fighting me, pulling away and scratching and trying to run.

  He has her.

  Her former Master. I want to spit the word.

  He’s not allowed. He’s dead. I won’t let him have this control over her.

  She’s mine!

  I push her back against the wall and shove my forearm under her chin, keeping her from biting me. With her wrists pinned above her head and my hip pushed against hers, I have her still.

  “You think of only me when you’re with me,” I command her, pushing my thigh between her legs and pressing her back firmly against the wall. She whimpers, and her eyes finally find mine.

  “You belong to me. No one else.” Her body tenses as her pupils dilate and recognition flashes in her eyes. My kitten. Stay with me. Only me.

  I crash my lips to hers, slowly lowering my arm and she responds. Her lips part and she fights me again, but it’s to hold me back. To grip onto me and kiss me with a passion that makes her heart beat so hard I swear I can hear it even over the sound of my own blood rushing in my ears.

  “Only me.”

  “Only you.”

  “Who do you belong to?” I ask her, pushing my hand between her thighs and rubbing her clit.

  “You,” she says in a strangled cry.

  “Why did you take it off?” I ask her.

  She breathes in a sharp inhale and her eyes widen, afraid to answer for a moment. But she obeys. “Because I was told to. You told me to.”

  “You’re such a good girl,” I whisper into the crook of her neck as I rub my palm against her clit.

  I kiss along her jaw and down her neck, rocking my hand and feeling her grow wetter and hotter. I need to get her off. I need her to be rewarded for facing her past like she did.

  I bury my head in the crook of her neck, feeling her long blonde hair against my nose and cheek. “Such a good girl.”

  I slip my fingers into her heat.

  “Thank you, Master,” she moans. Her head turns to the left and then the right.

  She runs her hand down my forearm and I can feel the blood smear along my arm from where she scratched me. Her eyes are closed. She's just enjoying my touch.

  Thank fuck. She needs this. She can’t be afraid to take it off. She needs this more than she could possibly know.

  “Cum for me,” I tell her, pulling away slightly and looking at the soft curves of her face. Her forehead’s pinched and her soft lush lips are parted. Her flushed skin and quick pants of heated breathing only prove to me that she’s close. I can’t take the sight of her so wound up and turned on. So fucking gorgeous. This is how she should always be. Lost in the pleasure I give her. Never in pain.

  “Please cum for me,” I practically beg her, my heart hurting and my body feeling cold and nearly numb.

  She cries out as the warmth of her arousal leaks from her and her thighs tremble. Her body stiffens as she grips me with a force equal to the intensity of her orgasm.

  “Good girl,” I softly say as I pull my hand away and hold her close to me.

  I kiss her hair, then her cheek and her neck as she lolls her head to the side, gripping onto my shoulders and resting her cheek on my shoulder.

  It takes a moment for her to calm, and all the while I just hold her to me.

  “Are you alright, kitten?” I ask softly, pulling away from her for just a moment. She hides her face at first and I hate it. I hate that she’s ashamed of confronting her past.

  I grip her chin in my hand and force her to look at me.

  She pulls away, moving her head to the side and responding softly. “I’m okay.”

  I think about questioning her. Making her talk about it. But we both know what happened.

  I don’t want her to hurt anymore. I pull her into my chest and rock her slightly. She holds me back with a force that’s new to her. She’s holding me as though she’ll fall if I let her go. As if she’ll shatter without me here to hold her up.

  My poor Katia. I kiss her sweetly, my heart breaking.

  I wish there was more I could do.

  But this will take time.

  Every time she puts that anklet on, she knows what she’s doing, what she’s enabling.

  This was bound to happen, but I still hate it.

  I lay her on the ground, breathing heavily and catching her breath while I turn the shower on. The loud sprays hit the wall, drowning out her heavy breathing. I turn to look at her, my hand under the stream, waiting for the water to warm and she’s still, her eyes wide open, staring at the gorgeous anklet, laying across the bathroom floor from her, as though it’s a snake waiting to strike.

  I’m not surprised though, when she’s showered and pampered and the time’s come to either wear it or throw it away. I’m not surprised that she puts it back on to keep the night terrors at bay. But the look in her eyes is different now.

  It’s progress.

  “Katia, what does being a Master mean?” I ask her as I sit on her bed and gently pet her hair.

  “I don’t know, Master.” She answers so quietly I almost don’t hear her.

  “What do you think it means?” I ask her.

  “I feel so confused,” she admits.

  “What if I told you you’ve only had one Master, Katia? What would you say then?”

  She turns in the bed, finally looking me in the eyes. “I’d say a Master is a good thing. A Master is a savior.”

  Her admission makes my heart hurt. I want to save her. And I will.

  Chapter 24

  Katia

  I can’t believe I’m doing this.

  I look over at Isaac as he drives us down the road toward my family’s house in his spare Mazda CX-5, handling the car in a way that manages to turn me on, even when I’m on edge. Everything he does is just so sexy. His mannerisms, the way he talks, the way he moves. The way he owns me.

  I shake my head. I can’t believe I’m letting this man meet my family after only knowing him for a few weeks.

  10 days into being his slave… A man that owns me, mind, body and soul no less. It almost makes me laugh that we’re even coming with gifts, after I’ve avoided my family like a plague, all because he thinks meeting them will be for my own good. As much as I don’t like this, I have to trust him. And deep down, I know he’s right. I still love them. And I know they love me.

  But that doesn’t change the fact that this entire situation is fucked.

  My heart jumps into my chest as we turn onto Waverly Road, the familiar houses popping up in front of me, my childhood memories coming back to haunt me. I walked down this street the day they took me. I close my eyes, trying to block the visions, not wanting to get emotional. The last thing I need to do is break down in front of my parents with Isaac standing there. Who knows what might happen? I suck in several calming breaths before opening my eyes and focusing on the present as Isaac pulls up in front of my childhood home, parking the car next to the curb.

  There it is. Home. I sit there for a moment staring at it. It looks just like I remember. A two story rustic brick home, with partial cream-colored vinyl siding and a cozy porch with several rocking chairs sitting out in front of it.

  “You okay?” Isaac’s deep baritone penetrates my thoughts.

  I look over at him, blinking rapidly as something pricks the ba
ck of my eyes. That better not be a fucking tear. I just need to hold it together for maybe an hour. Hopefully by then we’ll be long gone. “Yes,” I reply, trying to keep the dread out of my voice.

  Isaac’s lips draw down into a point as he frowns, but I hardly notice it. Even with dressing down, in just blue jeans, a red sweater, and a worn brother leather coat, he looks hot. His hair is parted and slicked to the side, the scent of his masculine cologne filling the car.

  I was surprised when he didn’t wear a suit, but when he brought out the Mazda for us to drive in, I figured he didn’t want to show up looking like he was drowning in cash.

  “You will not lie to me, kitten,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous.

  I lick my lips. I know I can’t argue with him. “I’m terrified,” I admit. “I really don’t want to do this.”

  Isaac shakes his head. “I know you don’t. But you will. Do you understand?” His voice is firm, indicating that he’ll accept nothing less than my perfect obedience.

  I hate it, but I force myself to nod, not trusting myself to speak.

  Isaac stares at me, the intense look in his beautiful green eyes making me squirm. “You will engage in every conversation that’s initiated, and you will answer honestly. Even questions you find make you emotional. The only exception is questions about us.”

  I hold in a groan. Oh God, why is he doing this to me? I can lie about the two of us, but everything else that makes the pit of my stomach churn is fair game? Does he want me to cry? 'Cause that’s exactly what’s going to happen. I know it. I’m tired of crying. I’ve never wanted to defy him more than in this moment. But I don’t. “Yes, Master,” I reply, barely able to keep the tremor out of my voice.

  I can’t take staring into his stern gaze, so I look back over to my family home.

  My mother refused to leave it after I was taken. She had deluded herself into thinking I’d come home somehow. Like one day I’d just appear for her, but if she moved, I wouldn’t be able to find my way back to her. Bless her heart.

  Thinking about it causes tears to form in my eyes, and I fucking hate it. I hate that I feel so raw still. I’ve been on a roller coaster of emotions the past week, feeling as though I’m invincible and then completely raw and vulnerable. I don’t know what I am, but right now I know I don’t want to do this shit. It’s just too much, all at once. Why can’t Isaac see that?

  “Text your mother,” Isaac says, taking my hand and gently kissing the back of it. His tone has softened, and he seems to recognize how terrified I am. But he’s still going to make me go in there when I don’t want to. “You’re going to be perfect for me, kitten,” he reassures me in an attempt to boost my confidence, and giving my hand a slight squeeze. “Trust me, you can do this. You will do this.”

  I want to tell him no, tell him that I can’t do this. I don’t want to have to face my mother, to have to be reminded of the pain I caused her. But looking at Isaac, I know there's only one answer he’ll accept. “Yes, Master,” I whisper.

  “Katia!” As soon as I walk through the door, my mother is pulling me into her arms, gripping me into a fierce bear hug. I’m already filled with anxiety, so I can hardly breathe as she squeezes me and kisses me, telling me she loves me and how much she’s missed me over and over.

  “I’ve missed you so much, baby!” she cries with tears in her eyes, finally pulling back and allowing me to breathe, giving me a chance to look at her. She looks really nice, dressed up in a tweed skirt suit with heavy makeup on, something that is totally unlike her. I don’t remember her this way at all. She always had pajamas on for most of the day with her hair in a messy bun during the holidays. It was typically even worse on Christmas Day, when she’d have stayed up the whole night before wrapping presents and baking treats for the family.

  Today, she looks beautiful.

  “I missed you too, Mom,” I say, my voice quavering from emotion.

  Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, I tell myself over and over in a litany meant to strengthen me, knowing that if the first tears fall that I’ll turn into a blubbering mess. I don’t know how I can’t do anything but break down, I feel too weak.

  Isaac's words come back to me in that moment. You’re going to be perfect for me, kitten. As if he knew I was thinking about him, I feel a gentle squeeze on my left hand and I look over to see Isaac gazing at me with strength and confidence in his eyes.

  My mom freezes as her eyes fall on Isaac, her jaw going slack as if she’s just now noticing he was there. “Well,” she says, her voice filled with wonder, her eyes wide with shock, “who is this handsome young man?”

  I know seeing Isaac with me must be hitting her pretty hard, since I’ve never had an official boyfriend. She probably can’t believe I wound up in an actual relationship. But what I have with Isaac is anything but normal, and probably never will be.

  “Mom,” I say, swallowing back a tide of emotion, “this is Isaac, my-“

  A quick pinch on the ass from Isaac reminds me to be careful of what I say next, and my cheeks burn with fire, my heart pounding from the oh shit moment. I hesitate for a moment, not wanting to make a mistake, but Isaac steps in.

  “Boyfriend.” It’s such a strange word, especially coming from his lips.

  “Boyfriend,” I agree quickly, hoping my mom doesn’t notice my flub. “Isaac is my boyfriend.” Boyfriend. I can’t believe that word just came out of my mouth. It sounds alien, and it certainly doesn’t fit the description of what Isaac is to me. Nor the name I call him every night. And he sure as fuck isn’t a boy.

  My mom can’t keep the shock from her face as she extends her hand in greeting. It’s like she thinks Isaac must be a hologram that’s going to vanish at any second. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Isaac. Kat told me that she had someone new in her life, but she didn’t tell me that you were so handsome.” She shakes her head and gives me a look.

  Isaac takes her extended hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mrs. Herrington. I see who Kat inherited her beauty from.”

  My mom turns a furious shade of crimson. A warm sensation flows through my chest at her expression. I haven’t seen her light up like that in… well, I don’t remember when. And I must say that I’m impressed by Isaac’s demeanor and charm in front of my mother; he’s nothing like he is when he’s at the club where everything revolves around sex. It’s a side of him that makes me curious. I like his charm, but it has me wondering how much of this is an act.

  “Oh stop it,” Mom says when she can finally find words, waving away Isaac’s compliment and chuckling nervously, trying to hide her embarrassment. She turns and motions us toward the living room. “Please, come and meet the rest of the family.”

  Isaac looks over at me and winks before we follow her into the living room. I’m really liking this side of him. He wraps his arm around my waist, and the display of affection catches me off guard. But In a good way though. It’s just something I wasn’t expecting.

  The minute we step into the room, I’m greeted by the sight of my family huddled together and overwhelmed by everyone talking at once as they rush forward to greet me.

  “Well, long time no see, Katia!” My father’s voice comes from across the room as my sister hugs me, saying softly in my ear, “It’s so good to see you!”

  “It’s been too long.” The voices seem to blend as I imagine turning right around and leaving. Of course I don’t, and instead I plaster a smile on my face, hugging each person in turn.

  “Why, you look like you’ve lost so much weight!”

  And from my cousin Lyssa, “Who’s the hot guy?”

  I’m surrounded by relatives, each one pulling me into one hug after another, telling me how much they love me and how happy they are to see me. I have to once again start chanting to myself, trying to keep my emotions in check. I try to answer every one the best as I can, almost becoming dizzy with confusion from all the questions, and not even knowing who’s talking to me. I think I count ten people in the room,
several aunts, uncles and cousins who are around my age. But the last person to come to me is someone I’ve been avoiding just as much as my mother.

  “Hello, pumpkin,” Dad says, holding his arms out to me. He’s dressed in grey slacks, matching tie and a white dress shirt. Like my mom, he’s aged quite a bit with his almost fully grey hair and a spider web of wrinkles around his eyes. He worried himself to death over my disappearance. “God, how I’ve missed you.”

  Once again, it’s an effort not to just break down and I know if I let out one sob, one sigh even, it’s over for me. I have to keep reminding myself of Isaac’s words. You’re going to perfect for me, kitten. If I can get through this without turning into a complete mess, I know I’ll be rewarded. It’ll make him happy. It’s my job to please him. I cling to that fact, letting it be my strength to pull through, letting it be my armor.

  “I’ve missed you too, Dad,” I say, my voice heavy with emotion, but not in danger of cracking as he pulls me into his arms for a fierce bear hug, kissing me multiple times on my cheek and telling me how much he loves me, much in the same way Mom did.

  When he’s done showering me with affection, he pulls back and eyes Isaac with slight apprehension, his body language instantly changing and on edge.

  He’s definitely not giving Isaac the warm welcome my mother gave, but I understand why. “Who’s this young man?”

  I open my mouth to tell him, but Isaac steps forward, extending a hand. “Isaac Rocci, your daughter’s new boyfriend.” Just hearing the word boyfriend come from Isaac’s lips again nearly causes me to swoon. I just can’t get used to thinking about him in that context. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Herrington.” Isaac’s words are smooth and confident as he places a hand on my lower back, sending a subtle but powerful message to my father.

  My body tingles with the wave of anxiety. This is something I hadn’t anticipated. I didn’t give any thought to it whatsoever.

  My dad seems taken aback by Isaac’s boldness for a moment, his mouth opening and closing several times before he takes Isaac’s hand and shakes it. “It’s a pleasure.” I’m not sure, but I think Dad’s respect for Isaac has gone up several notches, which is surprising. I half expected him to challenge Isaac to a duel right then and there.