"Certainly sir," he said in a clipped tone. "Be happy to. Would you like the lady to be present at the meeting?"
And I shivered, eyes going wide. They wanted me to come to a club meeting to share my experience, testify like I was on the stand?
But Troy shook his head.
"Naw, no need to drag Ellie into this more, it's fucking fucked up and there's gonna be blood on the ground to say the least. Let's spare her the sight."
I breathed a sigh of relief. Because on the one hand, I was curious. Who were these powerful men, shadowy, discreet billionaires who bought and sold girls in a private club setting? Who had the connections, the deep pockets to indulge and fund such a venture? But on the other, my sense of self-preservation warned me away because danger loomed. These were dangerous, dominant alphas used to getting what they wanted and I couldn't take on a pack of them. Hell, I could barely handle Troy, the way he took charge of every situation, of my body, my wants, needs and desires, how in the world could I deal with twelve, fifteen, twenty Troys?
But the moment passed and Jeeves snapped his notebook shut, standing up with the stiff elegance of a butler.
"Anything else I can get you sir? Madame?" he asked, bowing from the waist again.
I shook my head while Troy growled, "Naw, that's all."
And with a click of his heels, Jeeves was gone once more, tails flying, stiff lip held high.
I giggled a little after he departed, once the door swung shut. "He's quite a character," I said wryly.
Troy chuckled.
"Yeah, he's actually the Club's first employee, our longest-lasting steward. We've got quite a couple of good people working for us, it's the only way this place could operate, but Martin is one of the best, mannered and subtle, yet nosy when he has to be," Troy said with a grunt. "He knew something had gone down with the auction, and was here to find out. The basketball game was just a pretense, he was here to talk to you."
My mouth opened, surprised.
"Me, really? I thought he wanted to get your feedback on the box," I croaked.
Troy shook his head.
"Naw, that was just a cover so you wouldn't feel intimidated. Martin is good honey," he said wryly. "As is the Club."
And I paused, thinking. The butler had been so skilled, carefully drawing out my story, making me think that I was in charge so that I felt comfortable recounting my experience. And it'd all been carefully planned, designed almost, waiting until the time was right, until I was safely under Troy's care. But I shook my head again. My story was out there now and what was important was getting results.
"So there are fail-safes, double checks to make sure everything goes as planned, right?" I asked again, my voice low. "They just didn't work in my case for some reason."
And Troy sighed, hauling me into his arms, pressing his lips to my ear.
"Honey, I have no idea what the fuck happened the night you were sold, how protocol was breached so thoroughly. But I promise I'm gonna find out," he said, leaning away for a moment to look deep in my eyes, blue eyes serious, big hands warm on my shoulders. "I promise, okay? I want this to be good for you, for you to enjoy yourself, have a good time."
And a feeling of safety, of warm contentment, seeped into my soul. Because despite the fact that Mr. Black was my captor, he made me feel protected, like I could relax in his arms, let go and not worry. I was like a hothouse flower, a beautiful orchid tended to in the warmth of a greenhouse, attention lavished on my form, treasured, petted, thoroughly fed and watered, making me rosy, bloom in adoration and love. What had happened to me was shocking, sure, but it was feeling less and less like an abduction. In fact, I was positively basking in the attention, the cooking, the eating, the basketball game, and most of all, my time getting to know the big man, learn more about him. So I wound my arms around his neck, pulling him close once more.
"Mr. Black," I murmured against his lips. "Do you want to watch more basketball, or do you want to … ?" I smiled at him, lips quirking gently as I pressed my bosom against his hard chest.
And the feel of my soft girls, luscious and warm, the sensation of my sinuous female body twining around him, made the big man groan, his cock popping to attention, grinding against my soft belly.
"Honey," he rasped, "I want all of you," he ground out before capturing my mouth with his own, seizing my lips in a kiss so persuasive, so thorough, that my heart hammered, bones melting in his embrace. Because somehow I'd surrendered, somehow this man had climbed all the walls, fought all the dragons, and I was putty in his grasp, absolutely his. And the worst part? I wanted it … I wanted Troy Black, mind, body and soul, all of him, forever.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Troy
A week later …
She was fucking gorgeous, curls spilling about her shoulders as she perched in my lap, her sweet, soft form, so curvy, so delectable.
"Guess this is all huh?" she mewled sweetly, giving me once last peck on the lips. Because I'd fucked her good this past week, taken that sweet little body so many times that Ellie was innocent no more, not by a long shot. I'd bent her over, pulled her knees up, practically made her do the splits while pummeling her back hole, the brunette coming again and again, breathless sighs of ecstasy ringing out as her body was violated by my dick, taking the massive shaft in her deepest recesses.
And yeah, I'd stuck to anal, there was no pussy sex. I'm an ass man because it's so fucking dirty and I love seeing a girl taking a huge dick up her back end. It's partly the graphic nature. I love having a woman lay on her back, knees pulled up to her chest, baring everything to me, hips canted up as I run my huge cock up her anus. It's forceful, it often pushes her across the bed, but the sight is such a turn-on, always makes me so hard, jizzing gallons of semen in her ass.
So yeah, I'm a sick mofo, I've never pretended to be otherwise and Ellie's ass is good and used now, she limped around for a few days sure, but recovered quickly, bouncing back to normal being eighteen, flexible and nubile. And I'm happy to say that she's able to take my dick without too much trouble now, I don't have to screw myself in with quite as much effort, her ring relaxes faster, she's got the breathing down, often pulling her nips to help ass relax as I drill her.
And shit, I'm letting it all walk away. Can you believe it? After a week with the gorgeous brunette, Ellie was on my lap now, exchanging a last kiss before she walked out the door, into a black car and out of my life. I'm not sure why I'm letting her do it. It's almost like I have a conscience, which I don't.
But the girl deserves better than this. The brunette made it clear multiple times that she wasn't here of her own free will. Unlike our usual females, my beautiful captive was full-on kidnapped, hands bound behind her back, tied and trussed up for auction. What the fuck? It was so fucking wrong, and I still had the board meeting where we'd deal out some punishment. But the more important thing was that Ellie had made it clear that this started illicitly, that although she grew to love my loving, to pull her ass open for me whenever I wanted, that it hadn't started out fair and square. She'd been abducted and I couldn't keep a girl like that bound to me, no matter how much she got paid.
So I was letting her go. I was letting Ellie walk away, without any strings, without any dumb shit like "I'll call you" or "Come and see me again." This interlude had begun on the wrong foot, and I wanted to make it right for her now.
So I kissed the brunette with all of my pent-up feelings, taking her mouth, parting her lips with my tongue, delving deep, big hands roaming all over her sweet tits, bouncing the huge breasts in my hands, one palm moving down between her skirt to caress lightly at her thighs, running over that sweet pussy once more. And fuck, it was wet, she was creaming, gushing from our embrace, our last kiss.
But I couldn't take her because it was time to go and slowly, I picked her up, swinging her into my arms. It was almost like I was gonna mount the stairs, take her to my bedroom and ravish that curvy form once more, love her again, giving her my sweet cum to drink, branding her with my body. But instead, I strode to the front door and swung it open, the town car already waiting outside. And with a few swift steps, I deposited her into the back seat, giving her one last kiss, feeling her sweet breath against my lips as she leaned backwards, relaxing into the supple leather.
"Goodbye, Mr. Black," she murmured, stroking my face one last time, small fingers warm and caressing. "Goodbye."
And I stood back, blue eyes blazing, even as I shut the door.
"Goodbye Ellie Danes," I rumbled, staring at her through the window as the car pulled away. It shouldn't have hurt, my heart should have felt light. I was ridding myself of a girl, that was the whole reason I'd gone to the auction in the first place. Because fuck yeah, that's why guys take part in the sale, why the Club provides the service. We don't want the hassle of a dating, much less a long-term relationship, so we've established a situation where you get a sensuous week with a beautiful girl before saying goodbye, no strings, no attachments, no nothing. And she knows going into it as well, knows full well that there's no potential for anything in the future, so there are no hurt feelings, no endless whining, begging or pleading, 24/7 texts and emails from a spoiled, entitled female.