Page 37 of The Auction (The Black Ledger Billionaires #4)

I wake before Jaxon does.

The early light through the curtains makes him look even more handsome, his jaw relaxed, lashes dark against his skin.

I scoot closer, throwing a leg over his and tucking myself into his warmth. He doesn’t budge. Just sleeps like a rock while I snuggle in, breathing in that clean, masculine scent of his skin.

I try to drift back off, but it’s useless. My naked body is pressed against his, and the heat building low in my stomach refuses to be ignored.

I place a kiss on his chest but, nothing. He’s out like a light.

A few more gentle pecks on his chest, his abs, working myself lower. His cock hardens and my pulse spikes. I glance up at him, but he’s still completely out.

Biting my lip, I slide my hand under the covers, wrapping my fingers around him. I give him a gentle squeeze and stroke.

He groans, low and deep, but doesn’t open his eyes.

A slow smile curls my lips.

If he’s not going to wake up, I guess I’ll have to wake him.

Carefully, I shift down between his legs, dragging the covers with me until they drape over my head like a tent. I take him in hand, licking from base to tip, and his cock jerks in response.

I tease the swollen head with my tongue, swirling around it before taking him in, slow at first… then deeper, until I can’t anymore without gagging. I pull back, suck harder, then dive in again, letting my tongue work every inch.

He’s moaning now, but still on the edge of sleep. I can feel the exact moment he starts to wake—the subtle shift of his legs, the slow thrust of his hips toward my mouth.

“Fuck, baby…” His voice is rough, wrecked from sleep.

The covers are tossed back, and he moves my hair out of my face so he can watch. “Look at you—waking me up with your slut mouth around my dick.”

God, I love it when he talks like that.

“My beautiful Cricket couldn’t even wait for me to wake up? You needed my cock that bad?”

I hum around him in answer, still sucking, still taking him as deep as I can.

I keep going until his breathing turns ragged and his thighs tense under my hands.

“God you feel so fucking good.” I suck harder, faster, moaning around him wanting him to lose it.

“Fuck—Cassidy—” He holds my hair tight, as he tenses his abs and there is a slight arch in his back. “Holy shit, you’re going to make me come.”

God this makes me so wet.

I feel him lean up watching his cock slide in and out of my mouth. He pulses his hips with my movements. Cussing praises and gives me everything. “Fuck baby,” He pulls on my hair slightly still holding it, thrusting deeper as I take every drop, licking and swallowing until he’s shuddering.

When he finally slumps back, I let him slip free and run my tongue along him again, catching the few stray beads I missed.

I climb back up to him, grinning. “Good morning.”

He catches my chin and kisses me—slow, lazy, the kind of kiss that says he’s in no rush to start the day.

“Morning,” he murmurs against my lips, one hand sliding down my back.

I snuggle into him, leg thrown back over his hip, my cheek pressed to the warm skin of his chest. His heartbeat is steady beneath my ear, his arm heavy and protective around me. For a few blissful minutes, we just breathe together, the world outside this bed feeling so far away.

It’s perfect.

And then my phone rings.

I groan, reaching blindly toward the nightstand, but the second I see the name on the screen, my stomach twists and I sit up.

It’s my brother.

Jaxon glances over, frowning. “Fuck. I forgot to tell you.”

My fingers tremble as I swipe to accept the call. “Hello?”

“Where the fuck are you?” His voice roars through the line, all rage and accusation. Jaxon sits up hearing the tone.

My blood runs cold. “Are you… back?”

“I’m back. And I want you here. Now .”

The call ends before I can reply. My hands feel clammy, my chest tight. My perfect morning crumbles like it was never real.

“Cass?” Jaxon scans my face and knows somethings wrong. “What is it?”

I force a shaky breath, pulling the sheet tighter around me. I shouldn’t have let this go so long. I should have told him.

But I need to do this. Me. Alone.

“It’s… something I have to handle. My brother.”

He studies me, jaw flexing, like he already knows he’s not going to like whatever comes next.

“Cassidy—”

“I can’t tell you. Not yet.” My voice cracks. “Please… just trust me. I’ll tell you everything when I get back. But right now… this is between him and me.”

His breathing is picking up, likes he’s struggling with how much to push.

“Does this have anything to do with why you put yourself up for auction?”

It makes my throat burn and my eyes water. I grit my teeth and nod. Suddenly, not touching him is making it hard to breathe so I climb on his lap. My arms are around his neck, and he buries his face in mine. I love it when he does this. He takes a deep inhale like he can bury my scent into him.

“Hey,” He pulls back cupping my jaw. Concern etched into every dark rivet of his eyes. “You don’t have to do this alone.” He whispers against my lips but doesn’t kiss me.

“I do though.” I kiss him. “Just trust me.”

His eyes are hard, but he nods once. “You come back to me.”

“I will.” Forever.

B y the time I reach the house, my pulse is pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears.

“Mom?” “Shanae?”

This will be easier if they’re here in the house. Jonathan acts tough unless someone else is there. Because he’s actually a coward. An insecure asshole who’s trying to be more important than he really is.

“She’s at the doctor.” He comes out of the kitchen wiping his hands and finishing a bite of something.

Shit. I forgot—they had that follow-up doctor’s appointment today.

Which means it’s just me and him.

“It’s time to go.”

“No.” I drop my purse on the table, trying to sound steady even though my stomach’s twisting itself into knots.

His eyes narrow. “Excuse me?”

“I said no. I’m not going. I’m not going through with it.” My hands are shaking, but I don’t let him see. “I’m in love with Jaxon. And I’m going to be with him. We can… we can work something else out.”

His expression morphs from disbelief to fury in a blink. “You’re in love with him? Are you fucking insane?” He steps closer, voice rising. “Did you fuck him?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Oh but it is my fucking business. You were supposed to be a virgin, Cassidy. That was the whole deal, you stupid fucking bitch. He already saw your doctors exam confirming that slut cunt of yours was—shockingly—untouched.”

I cross my arms, forcing the words out before I lose my nerve. “Then you go marry the English lord. Take it up the ass if he needs a virgin hole to fuck… unless yours has already been claimed by someone before.”

The slap comes so fast I barely see his hand move. My head snaps to the side, skin stinging, eyes watering.

“You ungrateful little whore.” His breath is hot, sour with rage. “I’ve done everything for this family?—”

“No. You’ve done everything for yourself.” I’m backing away and reaching into my back pocket for my phone when he shoves me hard, my back hitting the wall with a thud. The edge of a picture frame digs into my shoulder.

I make a break for the door—I can run to Ben—but Jonathan catches my hair and yanks me back. My knee buckles, and the phone skids across the floor, clattering against the baseboard just as the doorbell rings.

Before I can move, he’s yanking me upright until my scalp burns. “We’re leaving,” he growls, dragging me toward the door. “You’re doing what you agreed to.”

“No, I’m not.”

I try to activate my phones voice command. “Call Jaxon.” God I hope it does.

I kick at his shins, nails raking at whatever skin I can find, but it only makes him yank my hair harder until white-hot pain shoots across my scalp. His other hand clamps around my face, fingers digging into my cheeks so hard I can taste blood from where my teeth cut the inside.

“You think this is a choice? You already agreed.” His voice is low and poisonous. “If you don’t cooperate, I’ll sell this house right out from under her. I’ll sell the horses—separately. And I’ll tell her it’s your fault. I’ll make her hate you.”

Hot tears spill down my cheeks. “You’re a monster.”

“No.” His smile is pure venom. “You’re the monster. Lord Greville is offering to get her better treatment—a shot at a real cure. All you had to do was marry him and let him fuck your virgin cunt.” His grip tightens, and I can’t even cry out. “But no… you had to go be a whore. For Jaxon.”

The doorbell rings again, shrill and jarring.

“Coming!” his voice booms at my back. Then, he returns to me in a hiss: “You want our mother to die and have it be your fault?”

“Don’t act like you’re doing this for her.” There is venom in my voice and tears running down my face.

“You think she can survive the cancer, losing the house, the horses? Knowing her daughter did it to her?” He leans in close, his breath a hot whisper against my ear. “No. She’ll die of a broken heart. And you’ll be the one who killed her.”

He drags me to the door by my hair, my scalp screaming. The door swings open.

A sleek black limo idles in the driveway. The man standing beside it—dressed in a tailored suit and wearing the coldest expression I’ve ever seen—doesn’t even blink at the sight of my brother manhandling me.

Before I can think, I’m shoved inside. I scramble for the opposite door, but the handle doesn’t budge. Of course it’s locked.

My brother slides in beside me, pushing me to the floorboard. The door shuts, sealing us in as he lands a kick right to my thigh. “Get the fuck away from me. Fucking pathetic.”

The engine hums, and the limo glides away from the house, from safety, from everything.

And I’m trapped inside with the devil.

I try reasoning with him again, pleading for him to just think about another way, but Jonathan’s eyes flash—and then he snatches a crystal glass from the limo bar and hurls it at me.

I brace for the hit and it thumps hard on my knee. It doesn’t break, just falls to the carpeted floor. I cover my knee with my hand, swallowing back the cry of pain.

“Shut the fuck up,” he snarls. “And practice closing your fucking legs. Maybe the lord can be fooled on your wedding night when he fucks you.”

My stomach churns and I close my eyes. I should have brought Jaxon. I should have listened when he tried to help me. I should have been honest with him.

My eyes scan the limo for something—anything—to help me. A phone. A pen. A weapon. There’s nothing.

The car slows, pulling onto a stretch of tarmac that gleams under the afternoon sun. My heart plummets when I see the sleek jet waiting at the end. A coat of arms glints on the fuselage, the same one stamped on the box Jonathan gave me. The shirt. The necklace.

The symbol of the prison he was preparing for me.

The driver opens our door. Jonathan doesn’t wait to see if I’ll cooperate—he yanks me out by the arm, hard enough to wrench my shoulder.

A man descends the jet’s stairs, buttoning a navy blazer over a too-slender frame. Older than I expected. His balding head catches the light, and his beady eyes rake over me like I’m meat on display.

“Even more lovely than the pictures,” he says.

Jonathan shoves me forward, and Lord Greville steadies me—but only for a moment. I snap, kicking at him, trying to tear away, but he spins me around with frightening speed, fisting my hair and clamping a hand around my throat. His grip tightens, choking me until spots burst in my vision.

“I take it you trust my discretion on the manner best to make my fiancée heel,” he says over my head.

“She belongs to you. Do as you see fit,” Jonathan replies without hesitation. Then he turns back toward the limo… and stops. “And Cassidy?”

I glare at him, tears of pure rage and hatred burning tracks down my cheeks.

“An early congratulations on your marriage.”

He smiles like it’s the cruelest joke in the world, then walks away.

Greville’s fingers bite into my neck as he pushes me toward the plane. He’s not as physically strong as Jonathan, but the clammy malice in his grip makes my skin crawl. I fight for breath with every step.

Inside, he shoves me so hard I stumble across the plush cabin and hit the floor. I scramble on my hands and knees toward the narrow hallway, then stand and sprint. Desperate to find a door I can lock. But I slam into a wall of solid muscle.

A large man—built like a boulder—looks down at me without expression.

“Sit down, my bride.” His words slither down my back and make me shiver.

Greville doesn’t even glance at me, already lowering himself into a leather seat and buckling in. “We’re taking off immediately.”

The wall of muscle hauls me up and throws me into a chair so hard the air leaves my lungs. “Put on your fucking seatbelt. Now.”

I glare at him, but my hands obey, knowing in my bones this man wouldn’t hesitate to break me in half. Jonathan’s abuse was cruel, but cowardly. This man… he’s killed before. I can feel it radiating off him.

The only saving grace—the one thin thread I cling to—is that the lord wants a virgin bride. He plans to wait until the wedding night to consummate.

That buys me time. At least a week.

I just need to make it to London. From there, I’ll find my way out.

I’ll keep my promise to Jaxon.

I will come back to him.