"Well, I do believe we're finished here! Thank you for your cooperation, Miles." She turned to me, smiling widely and I shuddered, reluctantly pulling myself to my feet. "And especially you, Rachel. Thank you so very, very much. I could never have gotten his agreement without your... assistance." I flinched at the pointed barb, and glanced timidly at Miles. He refused to meet my eyes, his jaw clenched with rage.
We left the building in total silence. On the long drive back to his mansion, I started to speak a few times, but the words died in my throat. I really didn't know what to say. Miles slammed open the car-door as soon as we arrived at his home, and stalked up the front door. Hesitantly, I followed him, but he never looked back. He strode down the hallway and flung open the door to what was clearly his home office, crossing the room to his desk. I drifted in behind him, and quietly shut the door.
Keeping his back to me, he opened a drawer and retrieved a dusty bottle. He poured a few fingers of some dark liquor into a glass tumbler, and then downed it in a single motion. A bit more calmly, he poured another, and then turned to face the lit fireplace, cradling the glass in his hands and still deliberately ignoring my presence. Gingerly, I stepped up beside him, and stared into the flames. After a long moment, he sighed, and his shoulders slumped.
I gathered my courage. "Miles... I am so, so sorry. I never meant..." I flinched, gasping, as he burst into motion, hurling his glass into the fire, where it shattered it loudly. He turned to me and snarled viciously.
"You're sorry?!? You're sorry?!? You stupid girl, you have no fucking idea what you've cost me!" I backed up a step, eyes wide with shock, but he crowded me up against his desk. His voice lowered to a venomous hiss. "I wish to God I had never met you!"
The cruel words stung, and tears rose to my eyes. I dashed them away as fury welled up from deep inside me, a massive eruption of pent-up hurt and fear and rage. "You ass! This isn't all my fault! Your ex-wife is a fucking psycho! And you..." I stabbed a finger into his chest, as his jaw dropped at my sudden attack. "If you'd just fucked me properly last night, none of this would have happened! I wouldn't have had to... This is all your fault!" I was shouting, tears pouring down my face, and he stepped back and raised his hands, blank-faced.
I shuddered and turned away from him, scrubbing my face with my hands and fighting down sobs. A simmering silence descended between us, and as my rage ebbed, I ached to bridge the gap. But I didn't know what to say.
He spoke first, his words cold and detached. "You're right. It's not fair to blame you for this mess, and I'm sorry that Clarice got you involved. This was never about you." I swung around to look at him, startled by the apology. He reached into his jacket, and pulled out the damned auction house contract. Grabbing a pen from the desk, he scrawled a quick signature across it. "I'm hereby declare our business transaction to be completed. The money will be deposited in your account by morning, and you're free to leave."
I staggered back, searching his face. He was expressionless, totally closed off. "You want me to leave?" I whispered.
He handed me the contract, carefully not touching me. "I think it best that you go home now, Rachel."
"I-I..." I shut my eyes and shook my head, trying to think. I should be glad to head back to my apartment and escape this hideously painful tangle of emotions. He was doing me a kindness, really. Blinking hard, my thoughts whirling, I gazed out the window and noticed that night had fallen. As though from a distance, I heard my voice say, "Can I stay the night, please? I.. I really don't want to be alone right now." I turned and met his gaze, holding my breath. A tantalizing flicker of heat seemed to shoot through his dark eyes, but it vanished in an instant.
After a long moment, he tilted his head. "If that's what you want."
Claimed by the Billionaire
Hands reached for me, huge and hairy men with cruel leering smiles. I tried to shove them away, but I was so weak, my legs and arms too heavy to move. I was helpless and my tormentors laughed as they shoved their hands between my thighs, spreading me open. Their hard fingers probed my tender folds, and then plunged deeply into my pussy and ass. The twin violations should have hurt terribly, but I moaned instead as perverted pleasure swept through me. My traitorous pussy tightened around the thick fingers pounding into me, and my ass clenched sensually around every degrading thrust.
"You like this, Rachel. You wanted this. Whore." I whimpered a horrified denial as a woman's voice whispered through my mind, poisonously sweet.
My ass and pussy throbbed in rhythm with the pounding fingers as my mind blanked with searing pleasure. Slowly, the two thugs tormenting me dissolved into one man, lean and poised, his dark hair streaked with silver. He frowned down at me as he plunged his fingers into my wet pussy, brushing my swollen clit with his thumb. I moaned as my hips lifted eagerly for his punishing thrusts and exquisitely erotic tension began to spiral through me.
He quickened the pace, his fingers diving deep inside my swollen twat again and again as I panted for breath. I trembled, my muscles tightened from the strain, as the coiling pressure in my core twisted higher and higher with every thrust. Finally, with one last hard shove of his fingers deep inside my quivering pussy, his thumb grinding painfully hard against my aching clit, he forced me over the edge. I cried out as the twisted knot low in my belly shattered into razor-edged surges of sensation and the nearly-painful orgasm tore through my body.
As the overwhelming pleasure slowly faded away, I reached out a hand to my stern-faced lover. He drifted back, melting into the shadows, his lush mouth twisted into a cruel sneer. "I don't want a whore, Rachel. Leave."
I woke with a jerk, sitting up in the bed with the sheets sticking to my sweaty skin. With shaking hands, I pushed back my tangled hair. My muscles were trembling and I teetered on the edge of panic, struggling for control. The awful nightmare had been so vivid that I could still see the faces of the two men who had attacked me earlier that day. And that voice... that woman's voice would haunt my dreams for years, I was sure.
Clarice Sinclaire-Jensen, the woman who had bought me at the virgin auction and then used me to torment and control her ex-husband. She'd given me to him for a single night, betting that he wouldn't deflower me so quickly. He hadn't and, by the contract I'd so naively signed, she owned my still-intact virginity. The evil bitch had called a meeting to reclaim my body. To my horror, she threatened to let her body-guards rape me if her ex-husband didn't meet her demands. The tender moments I'd shared with my dominating lover became a lash in her hands, a twisted leash around his neck.
I couldn't let him pay the price for my stupidity. I'd tried, oh God, I had tried so hard to foil her plot, to just let the thugs fuck me and be done with it. But I had broken under their cruelty and my lover had felt forced to intervene, stopping the nightmarish attack by giving in to Clarice's ruthless demands. The sadistic bitch had won because of me, because of my weakness. A man I'd known for less than a day had saved me at great personal cost.
The thought of Miles calmed me, and my panting breaths finally started to slow as the panic slipped away. It had been a stunning shock to recognize Miles Sinclaire after a sexy, scary night in his bed. A reclusive billionaire, famous for his genius and business sense, he'd become a virtual hermit since the bitter divorce that had cost him his software company. I'd been purchased to be a pawn in his psychotic ex-wife's vendetta, be the live bait on her hook.
I'd met Miles right after the virgin auction, when I'd been deposited on his doorstep, bound and terrified. A cold-eyed stranger, he hadn't been reassuring in the least to the scared girl he'd been so suspiciously given. His moods had swung unpredictably from teasingly playful to ruthlessly commanding, and he had demanded total obedience from me, not hesitating to punish me for defiance. He'd spanked me, shaved my pussy with a straight razor, tormented me with a vibrator in public and taught me erotic pleasures I'd never even imagined, all within a single intensely arousing day. To my utter surprise, I'd found pleasure in submitting both to his desires and to his twisted punishments.
I swallowed hard, my throat aching, as I recalled the fight we'd had after his gloating ex-wife finally released us. Miles had been so angry, enraged by the sacrifices he'd made to save me. He'd lashed out at me, his hard words like blows to my wounded soul. Drowning in guilt and pain, I had met his temper with my own. I had viciously attacked my rescuer, blaming him for not fucking me properly that first night, for not taking my virginity then and freeing me from the damned contract.