Highest Bidder
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Highest Bidder

Nine Month Auction – 2

Cordova Skye




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By the middle of the 21st century, fertility is yet another commodity controlled by the wealthy few. Riella’s family has the wealth, political power, and genetics to easily secure a reproductive license for her, but there’s a condition: that she marry the son of her father’s business partner. In defiance, she runs away…and straight to the Auction House.

Unprepared for how her fertile young body is probed, prodded, and put on display, she remains determined to thwart her father’s plans for her, even if it means selling herself into the hands of a stranger.


“I’m Marcus Leyton,” he said, “and your father and I are old rivals.” He traced a finger across my lips. “Does your father know his little girl sold herself like common trash?”

Flushing, I shook my head. I didn’t know enough about Daddy’s business dealings to recognize the name, but he didn’t have any reason to lie; every aspect of my life was his under our contract.

“Well, he’s going to know soon enough. Every gossip vid on the net will be starring you within the hour.” His hand slid under my chin, and he raised my head so I had to meet his eyes. “And by tonight, he’ll be seeing more than that little walk I took you on.”

“Are you going to hurt me?” I asked in a tiny voice, afraid of just what kind of rivalry he might have with my father.

“Of course not. The Auction House takes that sort of thing very seriously.” His thumb slid between my lips, stroking over my tongue, and I felt a little shiver through my body. “They can hardly guarantee a pregnancy, though. I have every right to keep you just like this, on your knees, servicing my every sexual whim, and yet utterly barren. That contract you signed gives me five years to ruin you, little girl.”

I swallowed hard, my tongue flexing against the thumb still in my mouth, the chill from his words doing nothing to cool the heat that had once again begun to coil deep in my belly. I dared to reach up, to press my hand over the ridge of his cock, stroking him through the fabric.

“You weren’t at the auction for me,” I said, pulling my head away from his hand so I could speak. “You couldn’t have known I’d be there. So you must want a child. And I want to give you a child. I want it more than anything. It…it would show my father once and for all that I’m not his thing to use.”