Page 11 of Cunning Vows


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Vance and Clay follow me to my private room during the auction intermission.

I’m fucking furious.

River won a collective vase with erotic paintings on it that took me months to curate, and I have no doubt the fucker doesn’t even know or appreciate its worth despite purchasing it and throwing a wolfish smile my way.

I don’t know why it irritates me that he purchased it, most likely because it impedes my ability to kick him the fuck out for not bidding.

When I get into the room, I pace back and forth.

That man is so insufferable.

Why is he even here? I understand being determined to reach a new market, but isn’t being rejected multiple times enough to make him take the hint? What else could he want or need? Or is he outright stupid and stubborn?

This man needs to be taught a lesson.

He thinks he can buy me? Like I’m an object he can own and put on display?

I mean, I did take his money, but that was payment for being near me. Not many get that opportunity unless they’re bidders in the auctions, and even then they don’t speak unless spoken to.

“Miss.” I look up as Vance steps toward me and drops to his knees. Clay comes up behind me, and his hands curve around my breasts. I sigh into their touch, doing everything I can to get one certain fucker off my mind.

Sometimes you just need to have an orgasm to clear your head.

It’s the best therapy, really. And I highly recommend it.

Vance hikes my dress up, exposing bare flesh because I never wear panties, and lifts my leg over his shoulder before his mouth descends on my clit. I’ve trained them well enough to know I need a change of pace to unwind. Which their mouths usually provide. Clay’s hands disappear under the top part of my dress as he squeezes my nipples, and I lean my back against him. I can feel his hard length through his trousers, and while I sometimes fuck them, I don’t need to. I like this level of worship, control, and power.

Vance inserts a finger into my pussy, and his tongue makes perfect circles around my clit, exactly the way I like it. Just like I taught them. And while they don’t always get it done perfectly every time, they try. Each time, it gets better and better. Vance slides another finger in as I hear cheering from the other side of the door, and I know my star of the auction just walked on the stage.

She’s a newcomer, and I knew the minute I saw her, the customers would be very happy with how she looks. She has that perfect hourglass figure with large breasts, a large ass, and long blond hair that falls in waves down to her ass. Pink, supple lips and a baby doll face.

Men like to dominate, and she gives off that innocent vibe they can’t seem to say no to.

I let a moan slip through my lips and turn my head. When I do, I notice the handle of the door turning. When the door swings open, I lock eyes with River as he stands there, his mouth in a firm line as he watches.

Vance goes to move his head, but I grip his hair and push him straight back down. Clay instinctually goes to move, but I growl out, “Do not stop.”

I can sense the friction between my men, but they do as they’re told. River’s hooded gaze drinks in every moment. And I thrive on it. Let him see firsthand the only purpose a man has in my life.

I’m not a woman to be fucked with, only fucked. And certainly not by the likes of someone like him.

I pay no attention to him but am eerily focused on his presence in my peripheral.

“Am I interrupting?” he finally asks.

“Considering this is not a room that you were invited to, yes,” I say lazily as I try to focus my attention back to my men. How good they usually make me feel and how I can get my next hit. Especially considering the man I’m frustrated with now stands in this very room.

“Thirty million,” River says, interrupting again.

“That’s a reasonable amount if you plan on watching the entire time,” I say, trying to focus on Clay and Vance, but I can only focus on him.

It’s fucked the whole mood because while I’m like this, looking for my release, he’s the last person I want to be thinking of.

I let out a frustrated growl. Clay moves his hands from my breasts, and I push Vance away, righting my dress. Now I’m pissed that he interrupted something that could have made this night better.

“Leave,” I tell Clay and Vance. They seem confused.

“Miss, for your safety—”

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