Owned: Highest Bidder Read online

  Owned

  Highest Bidder

  Willow Winters

  Lauren Landish

  Contents

  Owned: Highest Bidder

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Epilogue

  Bought: Highest Bidder

  Sneak Peek of Given

  Also by Lauren Landish and Willow Winters

  Copyright © 2017 by Lauren Landish & Willow Winters.

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design © 2016 by Coverluv.

  Cover Model: Rus Ridge.

  Photographer: Jules Godfrey

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.

  All characters are 18+ years of age and non-blood related, and all sexual acts are consensual.

  Owned: Highest Bidder

  By Lauren Landish & Willow Winters

  She thought this was a game. She thought she could walk away.

  She thought wrong.

  I’ve lived a cold, unforgiving life. I’ve seen things, I’ve done things, that would break a man. If they didn’t kill him first.

  With my past behind me, I have nothing. No way to atone for my sins and nothing to lift me from the depths of despair I’ve come from. And no one to give me the control that I so desperately desire.

  But as soon as I saw Lilly walk through the halls of Club X, something inside my cold heart flickered. With her large, blue eyes, and her seductive curves, I wanted her. Lilly, my flower. There’s a sweet innocence about her that steals the breath from my lungs. She brings my darkness to the surface, and what’s more… she craves it just as much as I do.

  The danger is what lured her to me. But she didn't realize how intense this would be when she signed that contract.

  She thought it was all fantasy and make-believe. But I'm not a knight in shining armor. I'm not a hero from a romance novel. I'm the villain.

  And now she wants to leave?

  I won’t allow it.

  I own her. And I’m not letting her go.

  **Owned is a Dark romance. A full-length standalone novel with an HEA and no cheating.**

  Want more? Join our mailing list to receive bonus deleted scenes! (If you’re already on our lists, you’ll get this automatically).

  Prologue

  Joseph

  I’m quiet as I walk into my bedroom, hoping to get a look at Lilly without her knowing. But those doe-eyed baby blues are shining back at me the second I enter.

  Hating me. They pierce into me, giving me a look that could kill a lesser man.

  I’ve been given more hateful glares. From deadly men who intended on killing me, who despise me and my very existence. I’ve never been affected.

  But the look in her eyes guts me.

  Because I know she’s hiding pain behind the hate.

  “Let me out,” she says in a low voice as she wraps her fingers around the silver steel bars. Her voice lacks the strength and conviction she’d rather I hear. She adjusts slightly, and as she does she winces. My eyes follow her movements; the grates of the cage have left an imprint on her knees. It’s only been a few hours since she’s been given her punishment. And I’m already regretting it.

  I have to remind myself that this is for her own good. She’s being punished for a reason.

  She wanted this.

  She asked for this.

  And now she wants to leave?

  I won’t allow it.

  My hands ball into fists as I stalk forward, my bare feet sinking into the lush carpet with each heavy step. The cage is large, much taller than her own height, and she rises to meet me although she remains on her knees.

  Here’s a side to her I’ve never seen before. The fierce woman who was always there, hiding behind the facade of obedient eyes.

  She liked to play the submissive. She thought this was a game.

  She thought wrong.

  Lilly looks back at me with daggers in her eyes as I crouch lower, leveling my gaze with hers. Even with the anger swirling in her blue eyes piercing into me, she gives off an air of purity, of innocence. She’s so delicate, so sweet. My flower.

  Her rage only makes me want her more.

  “Are you ready to obey?” I ask her, tilting my head slightly. My words piss her off. And I fucking love it. The comprehension of her predicament makes her eyes narrow for a moment. I watch as her hands attempt to ball into fists, but she corrects herself, warring between what she craves to do and what she feels she’s expected to do.

  She clenches her teeth, but her eyes water. Tears form in her eyes as her lush lips part, but then quickly close without a sound being uttered.

  I question everything in that small moment.

  “Fuck you,” she finally responds with a sneer, but then instantly lowers her gaze. She’s strong, courageous even, but she’s a true Submissive. I have yet to earn that side of her. But I will.

  “You want to,” I answer with a sharp smirk that curves my lips up, and that brings her glare back. We're at an impasse. If she’d give in, so would I, but she’s fighting it.

  She didn’t realize how intense this would be when she signed that contract giving her freedom over to me. Neither did I.

  She doesn’t respond, but I see her thighs clench ever so slightly. The small action makes my dick instantly harden with desire. She loves what I do to her. She still wants me, even when she hates me.

  “All you need to do is obey, my flower.” I regain my strict composure, waiting for her answer.

  My nickname for her makes her lips part just the tiniest bit with lust. It makes me lean into her that much closer. Wanting more. My fingers wrap around the bars just above hers, barely touching her, but feeling the heated tingle I always do when I’m with her.

  She knew I wasn’t a good man.

  That’s part of what drew her to me. I know it is.

  “Fine,” she says in a mere whisper. I cock a brow at her answer, daring her to continue with that disrespectful attitude.

  Our days are numbered, and if I let her, she may leave me the moment she can and never look back.

  But she craved this arrangement for a reason. The same darkness that drives my desires is also in her. Stirring low in the pit of her stomach, fueling her hatred for me, but making her want me so much more.

  “You know that’s not the way I’d like you to address me.”

  “Yes, sir,” she says obediently, h
er voice the proper tone as she squares her shoulders. She’s still eye level with me, and there’s still a fierceness to her, but she’s willing to play. That’s just how I want her.

  I’ll show her how good this can be.

  But first, she needs to be truly punished. The cage door opens slightly with a gentle creak. I need to leave a lasting impression.

  She may be angry with me, but she’s still mine.

  I own her. And I’m not letting her go.

  Chapter 1

  Lilly

  “What in the effin' hell?” I slam Playback, the romance paperback I’d been reading closed with an angry growl. My blood is boiling like an evil witch’s cauldron.

  “How could it end… like that?” I grit my teeth, shaking my head at the gall of whoever’s written this. I fell in love with this storyline, and totally felt the heartache and brutal pain the hero and heroine went through. I was rooting for Liam and Tilda. Their story gripped my heart from the very first page, and I was quickly drawn into their struggles to overcome the heartbreaking obstacles keeping them apart.

  I’d read each page breathlessly, flipping through the book like a hungry wolf in search of his next meal, practically dying to find out how it all ended, and then… I gulp as my throat constricts into a ball of tight anger, unable to understand how someone could be so cruel. I’d invested so much of myself into the story, hoping to be rewarded with a satisfying conclusion to such a tragic relationship.

  Then it ended abruptly. Just like that, with no happily ever after, no resolution. Only a tragic heartbreak that left me feeling raw. I can’t believe how completely engrossed I was in the book, feeling like I was part of the characters' lives, only to be shafted at the very end.

  Burning up with anger, I turn the book over and peer at the binding, determined to commit the author’s name to memory so I can make sure to stay clear of reading any more of their future work. Lauren Winters. “More like Slutty Winters,” I mutter angrily, feeling thoroughly cheated.

  I know it’s fiction and it’s not real, but I hate when I get emotionally invested in characters and then something like this happens. It makes me feel absolutely cheated.

  I groan my frustration, tossing the book on the end table. My eyes are drawn to the roaring flames of the marble fireplace in front of me. The heat of the fire pricks my already heated cheeks, and I relax slightly as I’m enveloped by cozy warmth. Despite my sour moment, I love this.

  It’s one of my favorite pastimes during the cold winter months, sitting in front of a roaring fire with a hot mug of coffee and burying my nose into an engrossing romance novel. I just like it better when it’s a book that doesn’t leave me feeling like my heart’s been ripped out of my chest and stomped on in front of me.

  “I need something more mindless and smutty after that,” I mutter, picking up my cup of coffee and taking a sip. I’m calm now, but I still have a slight urge to toss the book into the flames. I must admit the author did a good job with everything else. I just didn’t like her ending.

  I just wish I hadn’t stepped on my Kindle. I had like fifty awesome books piled up on my to-be-read list.

  Sighing, I get up from my cushioned recliner with the book in my hands and stretch out my limbs, several of my bones popping as I stand. But it feels so good, I hold the position, letting my limbs come back to life.

  My eyes take in my living room, and my mood lifts again slightly. It feels so homey in my new townhouse, especially with how cold it is outside. I’ve decorated it with warm earth tones that make me feel right at home. The walls are lined with decorative shelves that are filled with books. I’ve read every single one of these books. A few of them are even autographed.

  I love my new bookends, too. They’re pale blue mice carved from stone stone to look like they’re holding the books up. Just seeing them makes me smile.

  This room is completely mine, and finally feels like a home. I still have the rest of the rented townhouse to put my stamp on, but this one room is just perfect. I walk to the large window across the room to open the curtains and let the evening light in. I can feel the cold from the winter air coming through.

  Outside, I can still see confetti lining the streets from the New Year’s Parade as I place my hand against the window. It’s a few days past the first of January, and a few pieces are still blowing along the edges of the building.

  I grin as I take it all in, the ending of the book quickly forgotten. I could write a romance that would leave me with feelings that would brighten my day. It’s okay to make my heart hurt a little, but I don’t want it broken. That’s not why I read romance novels.

  I’ve actually had a very good year, albeit a long one. I just finished my next-to-last semester at North University and I’ve passed all my classes with a B or better. I even managed to get a B+ in Advanced Calculus, something that's always been a struggle for me, all while working hard as a guidance counselor with troubled students at a local high school. I will never understand why psychology students have to know calculus. At this point, I just want to graduate and start giving back by helping make a brighter future for others as a teaching counselor in the local youth detention center. It’s their last chance before their delinquency sends them beyond public schools and straight to jail. It’s not a job I take lightly.

  I can’t handle the high school kids though. That’s for damn sure. For this past paid counseling internship, the program threw me in a classroom with twenty students. I’m only twenty-four and petite, so even on my best days, I hardly look over twenty-one. To say the students didn’t take me seriously doesn’t even begin to cover it. I cannot handle working with older teenagers. At all. Sure as hell not twenty of them at once.

  Some of those kids got under my skin so bad that I thought I was about to have a stroke. It takes a lot to get me worked up and thinking negatively. But I found it difficult to stay positive as the semester progressed. I still managed to persevere though; a few students showed so much improvement, and I know I made a positive difference in their lives. In the end, that’s all that matters.

  That internship is over, thank God. Next year, I’ll be in a middle school and that’s where I really want to work. I feel like I could do the most help there.

  And now I have the entire winter break to catch up on all the romance books I’ve neglected as reward for my hard work.

  I glare balefully at the book in my hand, thinking, I just need to make sure I don’t read any more disasters like this one.

  Huffing out another small sigh, I walk over to my bookshelf and pause before I slip the book back into its spot. I really should toss the damn thing into the fire. I’ll probably never read it again. In fact, I know I won’t. But I can’t bring myself to do it. Books are my biggest obsession; even ones I don’t love. They keep me sane and positive. They give me hope.

  It’s time to get dressed and move on. I love my book boyfriends and getting lost in romances, but I have other plans tonight.

  My body crackling with excitement, I put the book back on the shelf and make my way to my bedroom. I’m going to Club X tonight, a place that literally embodies the BDSM fantasy elements I love reading about. It’s a fantasy come to life, and I freaking love it. It’s been my secret pleasure for a while now, and I’m having a blast just showing up and observing the BDSM lifestyle. From the rich, powerful men, to the beautiful and willing sex slaves, and the hot and heavy playrooms with wild, untamed sex—it's all so incredible. I suck in a breath as heat burns my cheeks, and my nipples pebble at the thought. The experience has been so much more liberating and intoxicating than I thought it would be. Even if I haven’t actually participated yet.

  It’s exactly the place I need to be to research the themes I’m putting in my romance novel that I’ve been writing on my downtime while at school. The book isn’t anything I’m taking too seriously, and I don’t expect for it to ever be published or seen by anyone else’s eyes but mine. I just love writing the stories that come to me. It’s a stress-
relieving outlet I enjoy indulging in, especially when I’ve had a particularly bad day.

  I walk into my bedroom, tingling with excitement, and dig out a beautiful red nightgown out of my closet. I bought it just for tonight. There’s a PJ theme tonight at Club X, and I don’t want to be sent home for breaking club protocols. I set it down onto the bed, running my fingers along the soft silk fabric, thrilling at how luxurious it feels.

  My skin pricks as I stare at it. I hope I’ll look beautiful in this tonight. Just thinking about the looks I’ll get from those powerful, handsome masked men causes my breath to quicken, and my pussy to clench. A fiery blush comes to my cheeks, a little bit ashamed at how turned on I am. I don’t engage with them though. I stick to the safety of the trainers. I’m not ready for this to truly be real.

  I can’t imagine how people at school would react if they knew I was attending a place like Club X. A twinge of worry pricks my chest at the thought. I don’t want anyone finding out, and I’m filled with anxiety every time I show up at school after a night at Club X. I worry that someone will recognize me and out me. But with how strict the rules are at the club, and the non-disclosure agreements that have to be signed just to get through the doors, I let the worry slip by.

  I’m still slightly shocked about how I found out about it. Or rather, who told me about it. One of the teachers at the high school I work at, Mrs. Nicole Flite, mentioned the place to me after she saw me with my nose stuck in an erotic romance novel over lunch break. She was cautious at first, probably scared that I would look down on her or rat her out to the principal when she told me about the darker elements of the club. But when she saw how intrigued I was by the whole thing, she let loose, filling me in on all the exotic details.