Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
He was enormous. Even seated, he dwarfed everyone else. He had shoulders twice as wide as Burn’s and his thick body looked like it had been carved out of stone.
And worst of all, he had three heads.
The head on his right shoulder was snoring, its enormous beard rising and falling like waves. The one on the left stared blankly into space, cross-eyed and slack-jawed, drooling slightly.
But the central head—the one that met Noelle’s gaze—that was the worst of all.
Yellow eyes glowered from beneath heavy brows. Two curved tusks jutted upward from his lower jaw. His lips pulled back in a hungry grin as he looked over Noelle and her Kindred protectors as though inspecting cuts of meat at a butcher’s shop.
No… no, no, no, Noelle thought, feeling sick. Blessed Virgin, please… don’t let him be the one who spoke. Don’t let him be interested in buying us!
But then the three-headed troll leaned forward, the seats groaning under his weight, and the central head opened its massive mouth.
“I want to see how they perform,” he growled.
A hush fell across the crowd.
Cold trickled through Noelle’s veins.
Perform? Perform what? He can’t mean—
The troll jabbed a thick finger toward the stage.
“Make them perform before the bidding starts!” he thundered. “I want to see what I’ll be getting if I buy them!”
Burn growled beside her and Bright stiffened, stepping in front of her protectively.
But all Noelle could feel was her heart dropping into a void.
What in the world are we going to be forced to do now?
32
BRIGHT
Bright could feel the hungry eyes of the alien crowd on his bare skin—there was plenty to look at, since the thin strip of leather he was wearing barely concealed his shaft. The lights overhead were hot, making sweat bead along his spine and slide down the small of his back.
Every muscle in his body was coiled tight—half from humiliation, half from his anger at being displayed like a prize, with Noelle between him and Burn. All of them were collared…all of them helpless, and yet…he wanted the curvy little Elite beside him more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life.
He wasn’t sure why—maybe because it seemed as though her scent had changed again. She smelled even hotter than she had last night, when he and Burn had made her come. What was going on with her? Did it have anything to do with the warning the little orange dwarf she’d called “Lupin” had given her about not completing the second half of the fertility treatment?
Bright didn’t know. He stood on the stage, the chill of the air a stark contrast to the heat coiling low in his belly. The tiny leather loincloth he’d been forced into was a mockery of modesty, the rough seam chafing against the sensitive skin of his heavy balls with every slight shift of his weight. The lights of the Flesh Bazaar were blinding—a kaleidoscope of garish colors that swept over the jeering, leering crowd of aliens and mercenaries—all prospective buyers. But Bright’s gaze was fixed inward, the noise fading to a dull roar as he fought to keep calm.
The alien auctioneer paused her spiel as she considered the three-headed Trollox’s request that they “perform” before the bidding started.
"A demonstration?" she mused, her long tongue flicking out. "Why of course we can give you a little show before the bidding starts. We can't show any actual breeding, of course—that's against the rules of the Flesh Bazaar."
A wave of disappointed grumbles rippled through the spectators and the alien auctioneer raised one webbed hand.
"But there's no harm in a little oral action." Her head snapped around, her gaze landing on Noelle, who stood trembling in her revealing green gown between Bright and Burn. "You there! Come here and suck this one's shaft."
She pointed a long, sharp-nailed finger directly at Bright.
Bright’s heart started hammering against his ribs.
Noelle’s big brown eyes went wide, reminding him of a beautiful, terrified doe. She nibbled on her plump lower lip, and a hot blush spread from her neck all the way up to the tips of her ears.
The crowd roared its approval, but Bright was attuned to the little human on a level deeper than sound. He inhaled, filtering through the stink of the crowd, and found it—the subtle, sweet shift in her scent. Underneath the sharp tang of her embarrassment was the warm, feminine fragrance of her arousal moving up another notch. She was turned on—hot. A part of her—a deep, hidden part she might not even recognize herself—really wanted to do this, even as her mind was clearly reeling from the public shame.
"Well—hurry up girl, or taste the pain!" the auctioneer barked, brandishing the silver remote for the shock collars they all wore.
That threat broke her apparent paralysis. Noelle moved forward, her steps hesitant, until she was standing before Bright. She looked up at him, her eyes pools of liquid uncertainty, a silent question hanging in the air between them.