Under the lights.
Dressed in black silk that clung to his body like it was made only for him to wear. The heels added just enough height to make his legs look longer. The diamond choker caught the light every time he moved.
He looked beautiful.
Too beautiful.
My body reacted instantly.
A sharp, undeniable pull low in my stomach.
But it wasn’t just desire.
It was something much darker.
Something deeper.
Possession.
Because the moment I saw the way the others looked at him —
The way their eyes lingered, the way they leaned forward, hungry —
Something in me snapped.
No.
Absolutely fucking not.
They don’t get to look at him like that.
They don’t get to touch him with their disgusting hands.
It won’t happen.
Because he’s fucking mine.
Every inch of him belongs to me.
His breath. His thoughts. His wishes. His desires. I’m the only one who can make them happen. No one else.
Every fucking piece of him is mine.
Because even the idea of someone else bidding on him – and actually winning —
It wasn’t an option.
It was never an option.
So when the bidding started, I waited.
I let them play their little game.
Six hundred thousand. A million. A million and three hundred thousand.
It was all pointless numbers.
I let the host count.