Fingers touched her hair, separating the strands. It was all like a haze brought on by too much alcohol. Everything seemed in slow motion, like a dream world. She heard the men, heard their every lustful thought. Heard their promises, that if she were theirs, how they would pleasure her and take care of her every need.

As she and her keeper circled the room, lustful gazes followed in her wake. Such power made her heady when she should have already relinquished it. She had none. Or did she?

She hadn’t expected to actually feel when Damon walked into the room. It was merely a product of her fantasy, her overwrought imagination. But she did indeed feel the shift in the air, the sudden rise of tension.

She looked to the doorway and saw him standing there, his gaze arrogantly searching the room. For her.

Her breath left her, and she swayed unsteadily. Her keeper put a solicitous hand to the small of her back and murmured a command for her to stand straight.

Damon found her and their gazes locked. Smoldering awareness danced between them. It was nearly tangible in the air. The room was thick with it.

Arousal sparked in his dark eyes, and a slow smile carved his sensual mouth. He strode toward her, and the crowd parted, leaving his path to her unimpeded.

It was as if the words she’d penned had jumped from the pages. Every nuance, every detail that she’d painstakingly written had come to life at Damon’s hands. Which could only mean he’d carefully orchestrated every detail according to her e-mail. And that meant . . .

She swallowed and tried to calm her shaking nerves.

Damon stopped beside her keeper and murmured close to his ear. As she’d done in her fantasy, she strained to hear what Damon said, but her keeper pulled sharply at her leash. A reprimand.

She straightened and waited, though her entire body was strung so tight with anticipation that she feared breaking.

Damon came to stand in front of her and then reached out, cupping his hand behind her neck. The strands of her hair were wrapped around his knuckles, and he pulled her roughly to him, tilting her head so that she looked him straight in the eye.

Her neck was exposed to him, and she felt vulnerable standing there as he towered over her. There was a pleased look in his eyes, as if he found her satisfying.

Her pulse jumped and raced, for she knew what he would say as soon as his lips parted. They were close to hers, so close she could feel the warmth of his breath, smell the crisp mint on his tongue.

“You will be mine, Serena,” he said in a silky voice.

She trembled, her body alive with need and desire. Damon stepped away and melted into the crowd, and it was all she could do not to call him back, to beg him not to leave her even for a moment.

Her keeper pulled at her bound hands and she stumbled as he led her away. She looked back over her shoulder, searching frantically for Damon, but he was lost in the crowd of men who were pressing close in anticipation of the auction’s start.

In the distance she heard a man announce that the bidding would start. Her keeper turned her around and positioned her so that her body was displayed. His hands coaxed down her sides then around her abdomen and slowly glided upward until he cupped one breast in his palm. He ran his thumb over her taut nipple as the crowd urged him on.

Slowly he circled behind her, his hand still at her breast. He pressed in close, his chest molding to her back. She began to shake in earnest when his arms enfolded her and his hands molded both breasts, plumping them to their best advantage, showing each man what could be his if he was willing to pay a high enough price.

He tweaked her nipples, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger until they were tight and throbbing.

The bidding started and immediately, hands went up. For the first several minutes there was a flurry of bidding as the price increased. Then, as it grew higher, only a few men remained, each determined to outbid the other.

Where was Damon? She couldn’t see him even though she searched frantically among the crowd. Forgotten was her fantasy, and that she’d penned this part and knew well how it should end. Her only thought was that she couldn’t find Damon, that he’d somehow left her to the mercy of another.

Finally it was down to two men. As one raised his hand to raise the bid, the other remained silent. The announcer paused and then said, “Going once . . .”

Serena held her breath, her body rigid against her keeper.

“One hundred thousand dollars.”

Damon stepped forward, his demeanor calm, but determination flashed in his eyes. How easy it was to forget this was a carefully orchestrated charade. It seemed so real. It felt real.

There were a few gasps and more than a few grumbles but no one stood forward to top the bid.

She shook with excitement, with relief. Her keeper pinched one nipple and uttered a command in her ear for her to be still.

“Sold to Damon Roche,” the announcer said.

She sagged against her keeper, relief making her weak. At the same time, profuse joy flooded her. This was really happening! She had to blink to make sure she wasn’t imagining it, that she wasn’t indulging in her fantasy from the comfort of her dreams.

As her keeper walked around her, she could see the smile on his face. Damon walked forward to greet her keeper . . . and to claim his prize.

As Damon approached, her keeper pushed at her shoulders, forcing her to her knees.

“You will show your new master proper respect,” her keeper murmured.

Serena sank to her knees, only too willing to please Damon. She forced her gaze downward, waiting for him to command her.

Damon’s warm hand, so firm and strong, cupped her chin.

“Look at me,” he directed.

She looked up to see him towering over her, strong, so powerful. He stroked her cheek, and she nuzzled into his palm. His touch lit fire to her insides. Her skin crawled with an itchiness she had no hope of alleviating. Only he could satisfy her needs now.

There was magic in his touch. Warm and sensual, it stoked the fires inside her, made her clit bead and pulse with an agony only he could soothe.

Her knees ached from her perch on the hard floor but she gave no thought to complaining or shifting her position. Damon slid long fingers along her jawline before retracting his hand.

His fingers fumbled at his fly as he undid his pants.

“You will look only at me,” he said huskily as he kept his gaze connected with hers.

“Yes . . .” She wouldn’t call him keeper, for she called another man by that name, but she wasn’t sure what he wanted to be called. Master? She didn’t like the word. It sounded silly. Juvenile. Not all in keeping with the very adult feelings and sensations that coursed through her body.

So she settled for a quiet acknowledgment of his command and kept her gaze on him as he reached into his pants and pulled out his cock.

He was achingly erect. Hard. Thick. His cock filled his hand as he pumped back and forth. The hair at his groin was dark, but trimmed close to his skin. She loved a guy who took care of himself down there.

As his pants fell farther down his hips, she could see his sac bulge and flex with the movements of his hand. She wanted to touch it, feel him roll in her hand.

He guided the tip to her lips and gently brushed it against her mouth.

“Open for me, Serena,” he commanded. “Take me inside your mouth.”

She readily complied, and he immediately plunged deep into her mouth. Like velvet on her tongue. He tasted of salt, smelled faintly of musk and leather.

He worked back and forth and she sucked avidly at him, running her tongue from tip to base as he dragged his cock in and out of her mouth.

He stilled for a moment and tapped her cheek with his fingers. Then he tilted her head upward, his cock nearly sliding free of her lips. His gaze warned her as did his hand against her jaw.

She relaxed immediately and let him take over. Let him use her mouth as he wished in the manner he wanted. She was his.

His hands framed her face, and he pulled her closer into his groin. He slid deep until his hairs tickled her nose. A low groan worked from his chest, and her body tightened with pleasure. She was pleasing him.

Harder and deeper he thrust. He held her in place, fucking her mouth with ruthless abandon. If she had feared he would be too gentle, too soft, she’d feared wrong. There was nothing gentle about his possession. He took her with savage abandon, leaving her no doubt as to whom she now belonged.

His fingers crept deeper into her hair so that his hands were tangled in her tresses as he rocked against her. Several times she thought he was on the verge of his release, but it was then that he slowed, holding himself still in her mouth until he regained control. Then he resumed the deep strokes to the back of her throat.

The blunt crown of his dick nudged at the softness in the deepest part of her mouth. She swallowed convulsively, and she could feel the shudders working through his body.

Warm saltiness spilled onto her tongue, just a precursor to his orgasm. She lapped hungrily at it, wanting more, but he stilled and gave her a warning tap on the cheek again. Again she relaxed and relinquished control to him.

“I’m close, Serena,” he said. His voice slid like silk over her ravaged senses. “I want you to swallow it all. Drink from me. Taste my pleasure.”

She closed her eyes as his erotic words flickered over her hungry body. So hungry. She wanted him. Needed him like she’d never needed anyone else.