The Auction, #1 by Charlotte Byrd

Author:Charlotte Byrd [Byrd, Charlotte]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Charlotte Byrd

12

When the mask is on…

I wait on the bed breathing very fast for what feels like forever. My fingers nervously fidget and run along edge of my restraints. I can’t see the robe that I’m wearing, but I know it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever worn for a man. Plus, the feathers feel very soft and comfortable. It’s like I’m wrapped in luxury.

Waiting is pure torture. There’s room in the mask for my eyes to open freely without my eyelashes touching the fabric, but all I see is blackness around me. How long do I have to wait like this? My thoughts keep going back to the amount of money that the mysterious Mr. Black paid for me. $250,000. That’s a lot of money. I wonder what kind of night he is expecting from all of this. To tell you the truth, I’m not the most exciting girl in bed. I’m actually quite boring. I don't like to do a lot and I’m not a huge fan of being on top. When I’m on top, I can never relax enough to actually orgasm.

The door swings open. I exhale and inhale deeply, trying to compose myself. My body suddenly gets really cold and really hot at the same time. My hormones must be going nuts. I hear the footsteps approaching the bed.

“Hello?” I ask, not able to bear the anticipation much longer.

“Good evening,” he says after a moment. His voice is smooth, and deep, and has a kind of oak quality to it. He doesn’t sound very old, but then again, what do I know about voices?

“Are you Mr. Black?” I ask.

“Yes, I am,” he says slowly. “But you may call me Sir.”

“Just sir?” I ask.

“Yes, just sir.”

I don’t know what he’s doing, but it sounds like he’s walking around the suite. At one point, the closet doors open and close. And the sound of his walk changes. It’s almost as if he took off his shoes.

His footsteps are lighter, not as heavy. A moment later, I’m pretty certain that he’s either barefoot or at least in socks. I chew on my lower lip nervously, my eyes are fixed on the darkness inside the mask.

Suddenly, something touches my lips. It’s soft. It takes me a minute to realize that it’s his finger. I listen to his easy breaths and feel his presence on top of me. Yet, the only thing that he’s touching is my lips.

“It’s going to be fun,” he says slowly. His voice is almost smoldering now, as if a voice could be smoldering.

“I’m sorry, it’s just a nervous habit of mine. I chew my lower lip a lot.”

“Well, we’ll have to work on that, won’t we?” he says coyly.

I can’t see his face or his body, and yet my body is suddenly having a very strong reaction to him. I don't know if it’s his voice or him touching my lips, but my legs suddenly have these little pangs running through them. I curl my toes to try to relax, but more come.

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