Sweet Persuasion (Sweet #2)(34)

Fingers touched her hair, separating the strands. It was all like a haze brought on by too much alcohol. Everything seemed in slow motion, like a dream world. She heard the men, heard their every lustful thought. Heard their promises, that if she were theirs, how they would pleasure her and take care of her every need.

As she and her keeper circled the room, lustful gazes followed in her wake. Such power made her heady when she should have already relinquished it. She had none. Or did she?

She hadn’t expected to actually feel when Damon walked into the room. It was merely a product of her fantasy, her overwrought imagination. But she did indeed feel the shift in the air, the sudden rise of tension.

She looked to the doorway and saw him standing there, his gaze arrogantly searching the room. For her.

Her breath left her, and she swayed unsteadily. Her keeper put a solicitous hand to the small of her back and murmured a command for her to stand straight.

Damon found her and their gazes locked. Smoldering awareness danced between them. It was nearly tangible in the air. The room was thick with it.

Arousal sparked in his dark eyes, and a slow smile carved his sensual mouth. He strode toward her, and the crowd parted, leaving his path to her unimpeded.

It was as if the words she’d penned had jumped from the pages. Every nuance, every detail that she’d painstakingly written had come to life at Damon’s hands. Which could only mean he’d carefully orchestrated every detail according to her e-mail. And that meant . . .

She swallowed and tried to calm her shaking nerves.

Damon stopped beside her keeper and murmured close to his ear. As she’d done in her fantasy, she strained to hear what Damon said, but her keeper pulled sharply at her leash. A reprimand.

She straightened and waited, though her entire body was strung so tight with anticipation that she feared breaking.

Damon came to stand in front of her and then reached out, cupping his hand behind her neck. The strands of her hair were wrapped around his knuckles, and he pulled her roughly to him, tilting her head so that she looked him straight in the eye.

Her neck was exposed to him, and she felt vulnerable standing there as he towered over her. There was a pleased look in his eyes, as if he found her satisfying.

Her pulse jumped and raced, for she knew what he would say as soon as his lips parted. They were close to hers, so close she could feel the warmth of his breath, smell the crisp mint on his tongue.

“You will be mine, Serena,” he said in a silky voice.

She trembled, her body alive with need and desire. Damon stepped away and melted into the crowd, and it was all she could do not to call him back, to beg him not to leave her even for a moment.

Her keeper pulled at her bound hands and she stumbled as he led her away. She looked back over her shoulder, searching frantically for Damon, but he was lost in the crowd of men who were pressing close in anticipation of the auction’s start.

In the distance she heard a man announce that the bidding would start. Her keeper turned her around and positioned her so that her body was displayed. His hands coaxed down her sides then around her abdomen and slowly glided upward until he cupped one breast in his palm. He ran his thumb over her taut nipple as the crowd urged him on.

Slowly he circled behind her, his hand still at her breast. He pressed in close, his chest molding to her back. She began to shake in earnest when his arms enfolded her and his hands molded both br**sts, plumping them to their best advantage, showing each man what could be his if he was willing to pay a high enough price.

He tweaked her ni**les, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger until they were tight and throbbing.

The bidding started and immediately, hands went up. For the first several minutes there was a flurry of bidding as the price increased. Then, as it grew higher, only a few men remained, each determined to outbid the other.

Where was Damon? She couldn’t see him even though she searched frantically among the crowd. Forgotten was her fantasy, and that she’d penned this part and knew well how it should end. Her only thought was that she couldn’t find Damon, that he’d somehow left her to the mercy of another.

Finally it was down to two men. As one raised his hand to raise the bid, the other remained silent. The announcer paused and then said, “Going once . . .”

Serena held her breath, her body rigid against her keeper.

“One hundred thousand dollars.”

Damon stepped forward, his demeanor calm, but determination flashed in his eyes. How easy it was to forget this was a carefully orchestrated charade. It seemed so real. It felt real.

There were a few gasps and more than a few grumbles but no one stood forward to top the bid.

She shook with excitement, with relief. Her keeper pinched one nipple and uttered a command in her ear for her to be still.

“Sold to Damon Roche,” the announcer said.

She sagged against her keeper, relief making her weak. At the same time, profuse joy flooded her. This was really happening! She had to blink to make sure she wasn’t imagining it, that she wasn’t indulging in her fantasy from the comfort of her dreams.

As her keeper walked around her, she could see the smile on his face. Damon walked forward to greet her keeper . . . and to claim his prize.

As Damon approached, her keeper pushed at her shoulders, forcing her to her knees.

“You will show your new master proper respect,” her keeper murmured.

Serena sank to her knees, only too willing to please Damon. She forced her gaze downward, waiting for him to command her.