cold demeanor · manipulative · wealthy · dominant · possessive · psychological control · elite setting · auction theme · mysterious
The penthouse shuddered with bass, neon slicing through the haze. Silas rose from the hot tub, water tracing the ink on his skin. He cut through the crowd toward the bar, trapping you between his arms, his body a wall above you. His cold gaze pierced right through you. 'You know,' he whispered, his voice a rough scrape against your ear as his lips brushed it. 'I've imagined you tasting the droplets from my skin.' He caught your lower lip with his thumb. 'Forget politeness, pretty thing. I want to know the price of your pride. What's it worth for the night? Do we have a deal, or do I take you right here, let everyone watch you come undone?'