Chapter 62 - SIXTY TWO

Chapter 62: Chapter SIXTY TWO

DAMIEN

I started thrusting up into her mouth, using my grip on her hair to control her movement. Deep, brutal strokes that made her gag, choke and cry. I fucking loved how my cock escaped her mouth and came out shiny. My balls heavy with cum that desperately needed release.

Her mascara was already running, black tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Look at this fucking mess," I growled, watching saliva drip from her chin onto her white dress, leaving dark wet spots. "You’re ruining that pretty dress. You’re covered in spit and you’re still begging for more. My perfect little slut."

"Yes, I’m your slut," She choked around me. And it was everything I needed to hear.

"I’m going to fucking cum. And you’re going to swallow every drop like the good little cumslut you are. But first—" I pulled my cock out suddenly. It was still glistening with precum and her spit.

She looked up at me, confused, her face absolutely destroyed.

"Open your mouth," I commanded. "Stick out your tongue."

She did, and I stroked myself once, twice, watching her.

"Keep it open. I want to see you covered."

I came with a groan, the first splat of thick white cum hitting her tongue, but I aimed the rest at her face.

Streaks of cum painted her cheeks, her nose, her lips. Some landed on her chin and immediately mixed with all the saliva there, dripping down onto her dress.

"Don’t swallow yet, let me see!"

She kept her mouth open, my cum pooling on her tongue.

"Fuck, you look perfect," I breathed. "Now swallow. Show me."

She closed her mouth and swallowed hard, then opened again to show me she’d taken it all. Her tongue was clean from all traces of cum.

"Good girl," I praised, then used my fingers to scoop the cum from her face and push it into her mouth.

"Every drop, remember?"

She sucked my fingers clean, her eyes locked on mine as she whispered, "Thank you Daddy," She smacked her lips clean, as if wanting more of my cum.

When I pulled my fingers out, I just looked at her. She was absolutely beautiful.

Traces of cum still visible on her skin despite my efforts to feed it to her.

She looked like she belonged to me.

"You made such a mess, baby," I said, reaching for a handkerchief. But I only wiped her face partially, leaving her mascara smudged, her lips swollen and red.

"Now, everyone will know that you belong to someone. You’re not some untouched virgin they can corrupt—you’re already corrupted."

And with that, our evening began.

*

*

The auction hall was exactly as oppressive as I remembered.

The smell of dark intentions. Evil had a certain stench to it, but not everyone knew this. I’d always been comfortable with it, the cruelty of the underground, until now.

My Angel was at stake.

I’d made the rounds, playing the usual game of chatting with associates. Andres was talking about his shipping concerns, though I barely heard a word he said.

My mind was counting down the minutes. Vincenzo wasn’t here—he had been banned from the function after he’d killed those council members in a fit of rage—but his absence didn’t comfort me. If anything, it made me more paranoid.

Several other auctions had already taken place, a sculpture that was definitely stolen from some museum. Briefcases full of cash kept changing hands.

Then the lights dimmed.

Every muscle in my body went rigid, coiling tight like I was preparing for combat. Which I honestly was.

The auctioneer’s voice rang out, "And now, gentlemen, our final item of the evening. A rare acquisition. Thoroughly trained. Absolutely exquisite."

The curtain parted slowly.

And there she was.

My Angel.

Standing on that stage like a lamb at slaughter.

The room went silent. Every head turned in attention. All eyes were fixed on her with a hunger that made me want to rip out throats.

She stood there in her white dress—still stained from the car, looking small and fragile under the lights.

But something was different. My brows drew in a frown as I watched her, her face was covered with a butterfly-shaped mask which covered everything I had done to her:

Only her mouth and that golden hair cascading down her back were visible.

Irritation flared through me instantly, why the fuck was she wearing a mask? That hadn’t been part of the plan.

"Bidding starts at five million," the auctioneer announced cheerfully.

A paddle went up immediately. Then another. The numbers climbed fast—ten million, fifteen million, one-twenty-five.

I waited for the losers to stop raising their paddle, it was getting harder not to lash out.

Each bid felt like a violation. I could imagine their hands on her each time they called out amounts for my sweet girl.

"Forty million," Andres said with that fucking smirk on his face, looking directly at me. Challenging me.

That was more than enough.

"Hundred million," I said, my voice cutting through the room like a gunshot.

Complete silence fell, I could feel every head whipped toward me. Shocked whispers of disbelief buzzed in the air.

I knew what they were thinking, I had been her trainer, but it appeared this wasn’t just business for me anymore. I couldn’t give two fucks about their thoughts.

"A hundred million dollars," I repeated, staring directly at Andres. Daring him to challenge me so I’d have an excuse to put a bullet in his skull right here in front of everyone.

He held my gaze for a long moment, then slowly—wisely—lowered his paddle.

"Any other bids?" the auctioneer asked, and I could hear the excitement making his voice shake. This was probably the highest bid they’d seen in years. "Going once... going twice...Sold! To Mr Ricci for one hundred million dollars!"

Satisfaction flooded through me, dark and complete and violent.

She was mine.

Officially.

I made my way toward the dressing rooms where they’d be preparing her for collection. My cock was already hardening again, anticipation and possessiveness making my blood sing.

I’d take her right there against the wall. I wouldn’t even wait to get back to the hotel. My cock pumped with the thoughts of fucking her until she screamed and everyone in this building heard it.

I pushed open the dressing room door, already reaching for my belt.

She was sitting there in the white dress, her back was turned to me, the butterfly mask still covering her face.

"Turn around," I commanded, my voice raspy with need and hunger.

She turned slowly, almost reluctantly.

Something felt wrong now that I was seeing her up close. The way she moved—

Hell no.

It couldn’t be.

I reached up and yanked the mask off her face.

Blue eyes stared back at me. Blonde hair, yes. Same build and white dress with those telltale stains.

But this woman wasn’t my Angel.

A stranger’s face looked back at me with wide, terrified eyes.

The mask slipped from my fingers and clattered to the floor, as my blood completely turned to ice shards, pricking my skin harshly.

I looked around the room like Angel would somehow appear:

Someone had taken her.

Someone had stolen what was MINE!

A sound ripped from my throat—inhuman, feral.

I had my phone out, and I didn’t even remember pulling it from my pocket.

"Surround the building!" I snarled, not recognizing my own voice. Something violent had crawled up from hell and taken over my vocal cords.