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Story: King of Desire

“She’s good,” another says, grabbing my arm to haul me up.

I stumble, trying to get my feet under me, and another grabs my other arm.

My head swims and my knees threaten to give out again as they tighten their grip on my arms.

On the other side of the curtain, I can hear the jostling of the crowd, male voices that sound rough and angry.

“Gentlemen,” a male voice calls over the noise. “There is room for all.”

“Bring her out,” one calls.

“I want to see her!” another yells.

More yells fill the space as panic rises in my chest.

Whatever man takes me will have fought to be in this moment. He’ll be heated and… “I can’t do this,” I whisper, a cry breaking from my lips. “I can’t…”

“You can.” A third woman is at my back, her hands on my shoulder blades as the other two hold tight.

“Take yourself elsewhere when he’s on top of you,” another advises. “Focusing on the pain won’t help.”

What have I done? Another cry falls from my lips, but it’s cut off as I’m thrust through the curtain and onto the stage.

My eyes struggle to adjust to the bright light as I throw a hand up to block it.

But that only seems to make the crowd more riled, the noise growing deafening as I stand on a narrow stage that’s only a few feet above the regular floor.

A man wraps a beefy hand around my upper arm, to hold me in place. He’s got a microphone in the other, but I can’t attend what he’s saying because several men have reached out and are running their hands over my legs. I cry out, trying to back up but the man holding me barely allows me to move an inch.

“Certified pure, auction floor price for this lovely young thing begins at fifty thousand. This auction will be done via our app, silent only.”

The room goes dead quiet. It’s the only sound that frightens me more than all the frantic noise.

I sweep my gaze across them, wondering which man will be the one who….

But my gaze stops as a door in the back of the room bangs open.

I jump, all heads turning as a man steps into the room. His dark penetrating eyes meet mine and a sob breaks from my lips.

“Triston,” I whisper, broken, as I go limp next to my jailer.

Two more men move into position next to him, I know they are his brothers, but their names escape me as his eyes hold mine.

I feel myself leaning toward him, my entire body begging him to come closer.

He storms toward the front and that’s when I realize even more men are filing in behind him, including the man who made me sign the contract.

I gasp, my knees buckling as I start to fall again.

The guy holding the mic lets out a string of words I don’t understand, but I can only assume are curses as he drops the mic, the sound deafening, to grab me with a second hand. Triston pushes his way to the front of the crowd, a snarl pulling at his lips as he vaults up onto the stage. “Take your hands off of her.”

“You’re here,” I stutter out, my breath erratic as I reach out my free hand to clutch his jacket.

“Who are you?—”

“Do as he says,” Dimitri barks out from the center aisle.

There is a pause that lasts for a second before the auctioneer lets me go and Triston bends down, lifting me on my feet before his shoulder lands in my stomach. Suddenly I’m up in the air, my head down his back as my legs dangle over his front. He’s got one arm wrapped around my legs.