Sold to Alaric (1)

Liora

The air in the room was thick and smelled of expensive cigars. I looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize myself.

“I shouldn’t be here,” I whispered to myself. I was draped in a black slip of a dress that felt less like clothes and more like an invitation.

My lips were painted a bleeding crimson, making me look like a wicked fantasy—a seductress born of desperation.

I didn’t want this, but I had to. My mother was dying in a hospital bed, and her bills were a mountain I couldn’t climb. Selling my body was the only way out.

“You look so hot, Liora,” one of the girls purred. She stood in front of me, her eyes roaming all over me, taking me in. “Men will bleed their bank accounts dry to own you for a single night.”

“I feel naked,” I whispered, tugging at the hem of the dress. It was useless. Every time I moved, the silk rode up, exposing more of my skin.

“That’s the point, honey,” she laughed. “Tonight, you’re just a prize to be bought.”

She spoke of it as if it were a sport. To her, it was business. To me, it was a slow death.

“Let’s go,” she said, grabbing my hand and dragging me along.

Suddenly, the auctioneer’s voice boomed through the speakers.

“Number eleven,” he shouted. “A pure, untouched prize. Golden hair, eyes like liquid amber, and a soul that has never seen the dark side of this stage. Who will start the hunt?”

Shame burned through me. He was talking about me like I was a piece of meat. I walked onto the stage, and a hundred pairs of eyes stripped me bare. I wanted to scream, to run, but then the first bid hit the air.

“Two thousand,” a voice shouted, and the atmosphere turned heavy, thick with greed.

The numbers started climbing fast, suffocating me. Am I really worth this much?

My hands shook so violently that I had to clench them into fists. Just one night, I told myself. Survive one night, and the bills will be paid.

Then, a heavy silence fell. A voice, deep and jagged like broken glass, shattered the quiet.

“Five thousand.”

The room went ice cold. No one dared to breathe, let alone bid higher.

“Sold!” the auctioneer barked. The gavel slammed down, and the sound of a cell door locking. My fate was sealed.

I looked into the crowd, searching for the man who had bought me. At the back of the room, a massive shadow rose.

He wore a black mask that gleamed under the lights. He didn’t look at the stage; he looked through me, like he already knew exactly how I’d feel under him.

The guards led me down a dark hallway to a private room. When the door opened, I couldn’t breathe.

Up close, he was a giant. His shoulders were broad enough to block out the light, and his expensive suit couldn’t hide the raw muscle underneath. He had dark hair and eyes so intense they made my knees shake.

He walked toward me, his movements slow and predatory.

“Mine,” he growled. The sound vibrated in my chest. I backed away, my knees trembling. I had never been touched by a man, let alone a monster.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, his eyes locked onto mine. “Are you afraid of me, little bird?”

“Yes—No... I mean, no, sir,” I stammered.

“Don’t lie to me,” he whispered, closing the gap until our bodies touched. He wrapped his large, warm hands around my waist and pulled me flush against his hardness.

I froze as he buried his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. “You smell like heaven. I’m going to ruin you.”

“Sir...” I whimpered.

He pressed a rough thumb against my red lips, silencing me. “Alaric,” he hissed into my ear, his breath hot and dangerous. “That is the only name I want to hear coming out of your mouth while I fuck the breath out of you.”

Alaric didn’t wait for an answer. He gripped the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my blonde hair, and forced my head back. His eyes were like dark glass, cold and hungry.

“Please,” I sobbed, the word catching in my throat. “I’ve never… I’ve never done this before. Please be gentle.”

He let out a short, dark laugh that sent a chill down my spine. “Gentle? Little bird, I didn’t pay five thousand dollars for gentle. I paid for a girl I can ruin. I paid for this.”

He grabbed the neckline of my black gown and ripped. The sound of the fabric tearing felt like a scream in the quiet room. The dress fell to my waist, leaving me shivering and exposed. His gaze dropped to my chest, and I saw his jaw tighten.

“God, you’re perfect,” he muttered, his voice sounding like gravel.

I tried to cover myself with my hands, my face burning with shame, but he caught my wrists in one hand and pinned them over my head against the door.

He stepped in closer, his hard body crushing mine. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the scent of expensive cologne and raw musk filling my senses.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

I looked up, tears blurring my vision. “Please, Alaric… I’m scared.”

“Good,” he whispered, leaning down to lick a path from my collarbone to my ear. “Stay scared. It makes you taste better.”

He let go of my wrists only to shove his hand between my legs, his fingers aggressive as they searched for my center. I gasped, my back arching against the door.

I was a mess—terrified, but my body was already betraying me. I was wet, and he knew it.

“Look at that,” he growled, showing me his glistening fingers. “You’re begging for it while you’re crying for mercy. You’re a little liar, aren’t you?”