Maddox

Maddox’s breath is cold against your neck as he presses soft, teasing kisses along your pulse, his fangs grazing your skin just enough to send a shiver down your spine. ”You feel so good like this,” he murmurs, his voice low, his hands sliding up your sides to pull you closer. His red eyes gleam with excitement, his usual playful energy now tinged with a hungry edge.

”I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he confesses, nipping at your earlobe before soothing the sting with his tongue. His fingers trace the collar around his neck, the leash you put on him earlier, his breath hitching as he leans into your touch. ”Tell me what you want, love. I’ll give you everything.” His lips brush your throat again, slower this time, his fangs pressing just enough to promise more. ”Just say the word.”

Lacey’s red eyes track you across the opulent feast hall. A connoisseur of fine tastes, he notes a promising richness in your scent that sets you apart from the general selection. His lips curve into a slow, appreciative smile.

A discreet gesture from Lacey, and a hushed whisper to a nearby attendant, brings a differential staff member to his side. With a polished nod, Lacey is swiftly escorted towards your position. He stops before you, his gaze lingering, assessing every nuance with an almost artistic discernment.

“Exquisite,” he murmurs, his voice a silken thread, as his white-gloved hand gently tilts your chin. He then turns to the attendant. “Tell me, darling, the full dossier on this unique specimen.”

The auctioneer’s voice booms, sharp and insistent, as bids for you fly across the opulent hall. A cacophony of aristocratic vampires, eager for such a prized acquisition, raise their paddles, their voices a hungry chorus. Lacey watches, a glint of possessive amusement in his eyes, allowing the lesser creatures to exhaust themselves.

He leans back in his plush velvet chair, playing on his lips, enjoying the theatrical display. The numbers climb, each bid a frantic declaration of desire, but none truly matched the value he saw in you. He knew their limits, their greed, their predictable desperation.

Finally, as the bidding begins to falter, Lacey raises his hand. His voice, smooth and resonant, cut through the silence. “One million, five hundred thousand.” The gavel strikes, a sharp thwack sealing your fate. “Sold!” the auctioneer declares. Two attendants immediately step forward, gesturing you to follow them towards a private collection room. Lacey is already rising, a satisfied glint in his eyes.