Page 7 of Auctioned to My Bratva Boss

"There are many more pieces tonight. All virgins. You can pick a few more." He gestured toward the auction platform. "Every man likes virgins. Getting their first time all at once is incredibly thrilling!"

Yes, he was right. But I was one of the few exceptions. I was only interested in women special enough to catch my attention.

His man returned quickly, holding two still-warm contracts.

The contract promised me eight percent of his profits, and I needed to help him complete the diamond smuggling, getting his diamonds worth tens of millions safely to Belgium. The contract was clean. I signed.

"Real pleasure doing business." The moment I set down the pen, he grabbed one contract like he feared I'd change my mind. "Happy cooperation!"

"I'm leaving." I had no interest in his pleasantries.

I had more important business. That woman's beautiful eyes wouldn't leave my mind. I was going crazy wanting her.

"You sure you don't want a few more?" Victor called out.

"No," I said without looking back. "She's enough."

Damn. I couldn't wait to taste her.

Chapter Three

Riley

What the hell did I just hear? The boss I've been secretly crushing on for two months just bought my virginity!

God, please tell me this is some kind of sick joke.

Before I could even process it, two burly men yanked me off the platform the moment I reached the bottom.

"Ah—" I cried out instinctively, but my mouth was immediately sealed with tape. The sharp, chemical smell burned my nostrils.

Next, a cold cloth pressed over my eyes, plunging everything into darkness.

My wrists were wrenched behind my back and tied with rough rope that bit into my skin. The whole thing took less than ten seconds. These guys clearly knew exactly what they were doing.

"You'd better behave," a rough male voice growled near my ear. "Your new owner doesn't like damaged goods."

New owner. The words stabbed into my stomach like red-hot needles.

I was tossed over one of the men's shoulders like a sack of flour. My stomach pressed against his hard shoulder, and every step forced the air out of my lungs. I felt like I might throw up—from nerves or the constant jolting, I couldn't tell.

I bet my ass and breasts were bouncing shamelessly in this position. If the stage had been public humiliation, this was the deluxe version. Thank God I'd already survived that. Never again.

He carried me for what felt like forever, then stepped into an elevator. The weightless drop told me we were going up.

They were probably taking me to the penthouse. I'd heard the staff say only the most important guests ever got access to the top-floor suites.

A door opened, and I was thrown forward, landing hard on something soft. I bounced a few times. A bed. A massive, expensive bed that smelled of rich cologne.

I tried to push myself up, but with my hands tied behind my back, I lost my balance and could only lie on my side.

"Everything is ready, sir," the rough voice said again.

"Get out."

A new voice came from the far side of the room—low, steady, with a faint Russian accent. The kind of voice that could make any woman weak in the knees. Including me.

The door closed with a soft click. My pulse jumped hard.