The Auction (Club Indulgence Duet, #1)(75)

23





Blakely

Two Months Later





"Mmm," I utter, hugging my pillow tighter.

Riggs's hand slides over my ass. Tingles erupt on my skin under his hot breath. He kisses the back of my neck and murmurs, "We have twenty minutes."

"Until...?" I question, too sleepy to open my eyes.

He shifts on the mattress. The weight of his body presses over my back, his arms sliding under my hips. He lifts them, and the tip of his erection teases my entrance. He taunts, "You'll be calmer if I let you come before we leave."

My eyes flutter open. I rack my brain, wondering why Riggs thinks I'll be anything but calm.

More meetings.

I groan.

"Not the usual response I get when I'm on top of you naked," he teases.

"Can't we pick—"

He slides inside my pussy until his pelvis hits my ass.

"Oh God!" I breathe.

His tongue flicks my lobe. He keeps one arm under my hips and slides his other hand under the pillow. He pins my wrists to the mattress, slowly thrusting. He buries his face into the curve of my neck, asking, "How's that feel, pet?"

"So good," I admit.

He nibbles on my collarbone, thrusting faster. "And now?"

"Better," I confess, closing my eyes, enjoying every moment of Riggs's body in mine.

His fingers glide over my clit, circling it, and within seconds, he's ordering, "Come."

My body erupts into chaos. And I don't know what's happening between us anymore. Since my first day at the studio, Riggs has been different.

I thought he'd be upset with me after hearing my songs. Yet I rarely see him angry anymore. He didn't say anything about my songs, except for praising me for how well I did.

More and more, he's constantly asking me what I want or like. It took me by surprise at first. Now, I'm starting to get used to it, and it scares me. His actions only make me fall for him harder, and I'm already in over my head.

It's not that he's never demanding anymore. If anything, his need for control is stronger than ever. And his sexual desires are borderline insatiable. Not one day has passed where we haven't had sex, or he's not kissed me. Plus, I no longer have to think about touching him. I do it, and he never objects.

But he hasn't punished me since before that day. The longer I go without seeing his wrath, the laxer around him I become. And when I catch myself, I can't lie. Deep down, I know it's a mistake to think he's changed. At some point, Riggs is going to show his true colors. Our contract will be up, and I'll be replaced.

So I do everything I can to remind myself we have an arrangement. It's been a little over five months, and I'm almost halfway to the end.

The anxiety growing within me about leaving him won't fade. Yet I can't stop it.

"Christ, pet," he mumbles, holding me tighter to him, thrusting harder into me.

"Yes, like that, Sir," I cry out, not even realizing anymore when I call him Sir during sex until it rolls out of my mouth.

He loves it. I know he does, and pleasing him makes me happy.

He groans. "Fuck, you're perfect."

It's another thing he often says these days. The glimmer of hope I'll be his forever springs forward, and I try to push it away.

His palm slides up my arm and onto my neck. He glides it under my collar. There's no slack left, and his fingers sprawl around my skin, holding me in place. He thrusts harder until my body's out of control, convulsing underneath him, and he erupts inside me.

He stays on top of me, his heart beating into my shoulder, his sweat mixing with mine. His breath calms, and he rolls over, then slides his palm over my cheek. His eyes full of calm chaos meet mine.

"Do I really have to go?" I ask.

His lips twitch. "How many times have we gone over this, pet?"

"I don't like these meetings. Can't you just pick one for me?"

He shakes his head. "No. I'll interview and negotiate for you. But you need to feel comfortable with whatever agent you choose. This is important."

I crawl on top of him and trace his lips with my finger. "Or, I could stay home, work on some new music, and you could text me when you're on your way home. Then I could put on a mystery outfit and kneel for you until you come home and order me around all night." I beam at him, wiggling my eyebrows.

He chuckles. "A mystery outfit?"

"Yep."

He flips me onto my back.

I screech, laughing.

"Or, you can put on your big girl panties, attend a very important business meeting, and put on the mystery outfit when we get home."

"Aww," I whine.

He rises and pulls me off the bed. "Time to shower."

We get ready and leave the house.

"Who are we meeting today?" I ask.

"Phil Millin, then Jack Secroy, and after that, Noah Kingsley."

"We met with all of them last week," I point out.

"Yeah. They're the top three picks," he states.

I lean closer to him. "Sounds like you have this handled. Why am I here again?"

He sighs. "Blakely, you'll be tied to your agent for years. These aren't short-term contracts."