Raines, Elizabeth - Sold [Wicked Missions 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (3 page)

BOOK: Raines, Elizabeth - Sold [Wicked Missions 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
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The moment he saw the blonde, his heart took the reins.

Whether she was a criminal or not, he wasn’t leaving that auction without her.

Breathe. Be patient. See what they drive her price up to.

“Gentlemen,” the auctioneer shouted, “seems we’ve got a tempting one here.” He reached out to cup her ass, and her hand shot out to slap his face before he could even react. The sound was so loud that it echoed through the field, making most of the crowd burst out in guffaws in response. The auctioneer scowled at her as he rubbed his reddened cheek, but he quickly regained his aplomb and gave her a leering smile. “A feisty one, though. More than enough fire to keep you warm at night.”

“It’s plenty warm here already!” one of the men shouted back. “That much heat’ll burn ya!”

That response boded well. Carter had been right. Some of the men were actually afraid of her.
Fools, the lot of them
.

“I’ll give you a hundred uni-credits!”

“Hundred twenty-five unis!”

And so the bidding began while Carter waited patiently, calculating and ready to pounce as soon as the enthusiasm waned. Since the first woman was passably pretty and sold for the inflated price of five hundred universal-credits, he feared he might have to pay twice that much for this woman. He looked at her face again. Her eyes were now the color of the clouds before a lightning storm. Anger? Fear? Would they turn the same stormy gray when she was in the throes of passion?

Pay twice as much for her?
Three
times, if he had to.

“Holding at four hundred-fifty unis, gentlemen. Hard to believe a specimen like this’ll go that cheap. What happened to your balls, boys?”

“’Fraid she’ll cut ’em off if I let her have a kitchen knife!” one man called back.

“What’d she do to get thrown in jail?” another asked.

“Now, boys,” the auctioneer cautioned, “you know the rules. You can’t ask that. Everyone who comes to Pagonna gets a fresh start.”

“That means she murdered her husband!” a laughing voice shouted, setting more hilarity through the crowd.

The beautiful woman’s chin rose, and a small smile tugged at the corners of her pink lips.

“Five hundred,” Carter said, just loud enough to be heard but with no emotion or enthusiasm at all. A hard task considering that his cock was now standing at attention, wanting him to promise anything and everything to secure this woman in their bed.

Her gray eyes settled on him, capturing him and holding him in her grasp. He wanted to sweep her into his arms, take her back to the farm, and make love to her until neither of them could move. Shit, he’d have a hard time waiting that long. He’d probably fuck her on the boat trip back.

What the hell was wrong with him? When had he been reduced to paying for sex with a woman?

When he and Brandon immigrated to Pagonna where there were no single women, they’d pledged themselves as life mates and become Pilgrims, figuring it would always be the two of them. They’d quickly discovered they both missed the softness of a woman more than they’d ever imagined.

There was a fortune to be made on the planet. Covered mostly by freshwater oceans, the uninhabited planet was ripe for pod-farmers—people who grew their exotic plants directly in containers of water. The constant tropical climate gave them the perfect growing conditions. If a farmer was wise and planned well, he could be harvesting practically all year. Since he and Brandon had laid claim to over ten acres of the rare terra firma, they had their own island they’d turned into a farm. They grew their own food and raised their own animals, generating all their power by wind turbines, resulting in some primitive technology like lights inside the house and water purifiers. They were well ahead of most of the people on Pagonna.

Both men were frugal by nature, and they’d spent little on making their home anything but functional. Instead, they’d stashed away their money, hoping to one day return to Earth with enough wealth to live however they liked. Funny thing was now they liked life on backward little Pagonna and knew they’d remain for the rest of their lives. All that was missing was a woman. Sure, the sex between them was great, but both men were bisexual. Both missed the softness of a woman, the feeling of their cocks being planted deep inside a wet pussy. They loved each other, a tenderness that was clear in each glance, each touch. But he and Brandon both felt something important for their true happiness was simply…absent.

Which was why—frugal or not—Carter was here to spend some of their hard-earned money on a woman. Someone they could have at their beck and call every day and every long, lonely night.

He’d thought about tripling the price. Fuck, he’d quadruple it.
For her
.

“Five hundred unis, boys!” the auctioneer shouted. “That’s Carter Verdel gonna buy her. Think he can tame this woman? Are y’all gonna let him steal this beauty away for five hundred?”

“We’ll find his dead body floating in the ocean within the week!” a voice called back.

The auctioneer ignored the laughter. “Five hundred. Going once.”

Carter held his breath.

“Going twice.”

Please. Please. Please.

“Sold!”

Chapter 3

The man who now “owned” her wasn’t at all what Lyrianna expected. When she’d figured out exactly what this auction was for, she’d anticipated some kind of pathetic man, one who had taken himself away from the universe to settle on this water world because he couldn’t fit in with other people. Especially women. She’d pictured the kind of man who could only get a woman in bed by purchasing one against her will.

Instead, the man who now stood at her side was handsome enough that he’d probably have to beat women off with a stick back on Rozale. He was so tall the top of her head barely reached his shoulders. His hair was a dark brown as warm as well-polished wood, and she had to resist the urge to reach up and touch the ends that curled around his ears to see if they were soft or coarse. As he turned to stare at her, she realized his eyes were the same dark, inviting brown as his hair. A smile curved his full lips, making her heart leap into a faster rhythm.

Oh, no. He wasn’t
at all
what she expected.

Carter Verdel
. That was the name he gave the record keeper who sat at the table with the only technology she’d seen outside of the transport ship since she’d arrived on Pagonna. The overly thin man was probably typing the sale information into the computer while the man sitting next to him collected the funds. After the first woman was checked in, she and her new “owner” were ushered behind a curtain. The fact that Lyrianna could hear the sound of the woman cursing behind that red fabric wall didn’t bode well. She tried to swallow her apprehension and take each moment one at a time. It was the only way she’d survive this experience.

“Name,” the man behind the ancient computer asked, drawing her attention.

Since she wasn’t sure if he was asking her or the man who’d just wasted his hard-earned money on her, she started to answer. Her “owner” reached out to grab her hand and give it a mild squeeze. A censure? A desire to take the lead? She frowned at him and let him call the shots.
For now
.

“Carter Verdel,” he said in a rich, deep tone that sent shivers down her spine. Her core tightened, and that odd response to his voice and the fact that his big hand still cradled hers threw her mental balance off kilter. Was she reading his lust for her or was she feeling her own for him? Either way, that entirely sexual and far-too-strong response of her body to his touch frightened her.

Or did it excite her?

“Your name?” the recorder asked, staring at Lyrianna.

She contemplated lying, simply making up some stupid name. Perhaps she could call herself Maid Marian. That notion made her snort a small laugh.

Carter stared down at her. “What’s so funny?”

“Right now, my life,” she drawled in response.

“Name,” the recorder asked again.

A lie almost spilled out until she realized that if she used her real name, perhaps it would help Hannah find her when or if her friend ever came searching. “Lyrianna Seebré.” She spelled it, knowing few people ever did so correctly.

“Lyrianna,” Carter repeated. “Very pretty.”

Carter Verdel was a stupid man if he thought a little bit of sweet talk would be all it would take to get her pants off. “You don’t have to flatter me. You
own
me. Remember?”

“I don’t flatter. I say what I think.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Might as well get used to it. Brandon and I never mince words.”

The mention of another man’s name made her eyes widen. “Brandon? Who’s Brandon?”

“The other owner of our farm. He owns you too.” He turned back to the recorder. “Be sure and add Brandon Hunt to her papers.”

Two men?
She was now supposed to give two men she didn’t even know sexual favors because they’d bought her like a piece of meat at the marketplace? Before her anger could swell, Carter squeezed her hand again.

“You’ll like Brandon,” he whispered close to her ear. The heat of his breath washed over her skin and sent electricity down her limbs. “He’s got a wicked sense of humor.”

Her own body was a traitor, responding to the man against her will. Yet she quickly forgave herself. What woman wouldn’t respond to a masculine specimen like him? His body was perfection, all muscle and not an ounce of fat. The first two buttons of his loose, short-sleeved shirt were unbuttoned, probably due to the heat of the day. A small amount of crisp dark hair peeked out of the
V
. When he reached out to pay the man sitting next to the recorder, she got a glimpse of his strong forearm. Damn, but she was a sucker for men with strong arms. “If he’s so great, you don’t need me. Why don’t you just fuck him instead?”

“I do. Often. But we both want a woman, too.” He winked. “Trust me, you’ll like Brandon.”

Pride compelled her response. “Doubt I’ll be around long enough to get to know him. Or you, for that matter.”

The snorted laughs from Carter, the recorder, and the man taking payment raised her concern a notch. She
would
escape, no matter what they believed. She would find a way home. One day.

“Next!” Another man, this one wearing a white coat, had pulled aside the red curtain and was waving them forward.

Carter dragged her toward him and Lyrianna planted her feet. “Where are we going?”

“We have to finish processing,” Carter replied. “Then I can take you home.”

She pulled her hand back. “My
home
is on Rozale.”

“My sweet Lyrianna… One day, I promise, you’ll call Pagonna home.”

* * * *

This had been the part he dreaded. While he didn’t doubt his and Brandon’s abilities to keep Lyrianna on the farm, he also knew they couldn’t watch her twenty-four-seven. They spent far too much time in the ocean, working the pods. She’d have ample time to get into mischief, and since she didn’t know Pagonna and its dangers, the men had decided a behavioral inhibitor was for the best. They would never use the punishment aspect against her. They simply wanted the tracking device that accompanied the implant.

Not that he was worried she’d escape and leave them—he was worried she’d escape and get hurt. She couldn’t leave the farm and get too awfully far. Their island was an eight-hour boat ride away from anywhere, and even if she could manage to reach a neighboring farm or make it back here to Pagonna City, no one would help her find a transport off the planet. She had no money, no political connections. Whoever found her would bring her back for the reward offered for all escaped “property.” It was simply the Pagonna way of life, designed by the men who’d settled it and outnumbered the female population nine-to-one. Once purchased, a woman belonged to that man.
Forever
.

But just in case—for Lyrianna’s own good—he and Brandon agreed to let them plant the “tracker.”

“C’mon, honey,” Carter coaxed, noting how her wide, beautiful eyes narrowed to angry slits at the pet name. That’s what he thought of her as though—sweeter than honey, from her beautiful hair to the soles of her small feet. He’d just have to wait to call her that endearment at the right moment so she’d see it as it was intended as affection rather than condescension. Then he smiled, thinking that the right moment would be when he was buried balls deep inside her hot, wet pussy.

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