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Buying the Virgin
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BUYING THE VIRGIN
STELLA STONE
Contents
About the Author
Also By Stella Stone
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
EPILOGUE
Buying the Virgin
Copyright © 2018 by Stella Stone
All rights reserved.
Cover Designer: Pink Ink Designs. Cassy Roop. http://www.pinkinkdesigns.com
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN-13: 978-1722367824
ISBN-10: 1722367822
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About the Author
Stella Stone is a penname for an already established author who wants to write Simply. Sexy. Stories.
She is a mother of two boys, and a wife to a bearded hubby, residing in a rural Texas town. During the day she writes sexy stories while her children are at school. In the afternoon, she is a chauffeur, Taekwondo observed, loud baseball, basketball, and cheering swim mom.
Enjoy her Simply. Sexy. Stories and the Alpha men she enjoys creating.
Also By Stella Stone
Alpha Billionaire Series
BUYING THE HEIRESS
BUYING THE BARISTA
BUYING THE VIRGIN
BUYING THE DANCER - SEPTEMBER 2018
HOT Alpha Series
HOT Recluse
HOT Recluse
HOT Boss - AUGUST 2018
Sex is emotion in motion.
Mae West
PROLOGUE
ALDRICH
Walking into the club, I glance around. There are women in lace, leather, and some completely nude. None, not a single one of them makes me hard at first glance. Maybe if they were tied up, their bodies pink from my hand, or flogger, or strap I would feel differently.
Shoving my hand in my pocket, I shake my head. I know that’s a lie. I wouldn’t feel differently, because I haven’t in months.
Something is wrong.
Broken.
Damaged.
My phone rings in my pocket and I quickly reach for it.
“Hello?”
“I have someone I think you will like. Sunday at ten,” the voice growls before the call ends.
Pulling the phone from my ear, I watch the screen go black. It lights up a few seconds later with my friend Whitaker’s name. I answer it quickly.
“Sunday at ten, you get a call?” he asks as his greeting.
“I did.”
“Maybe we’ll find what Sterling and Connery have?” He mutters.
My eyes scan the room again, and I wonder if it’s possible. I wonder if we will find what our friends have found by purchasing a woman for ourselves. Would owning a woman be any different than dominating one for the night?
“Maybe,” I sigh. “Pick you up at eight. We’ll shake a tail if we have one,” I offer.
He grunts, and I end the call. Whitaker always has paparazzi following him. A party boy who is not only rich, but used to be a model, and the son of famous parents. People flock to him.
I prefer to be in the shadows. Out of sight, and anonymous. It’s why I work with Sterling. He knows how I am. Although I am fifty percent owner and partner, he is the front man. Most people don’t even know we have ties to one another professionally.
Turning away from the club, I decide to go home. Soon I’ll be at the auction house again, a line of women standing in front of me, and if I’m lucky, I’ll want to purchase one of them.
Unfortunately, whoever the girl is, she won’t be so lucky. I’m not a kind man, nor am I a good man. I’ll hurt her, and I’ll get off on it.
No, this girl, if I find one, she’ll be sold into a life of endless regret, I’m sure. I would feel sorry for her, but that isn’t the man that I am. I enjoy giving pain too fucking much to be that kind of man.
PENELOPE
I stand outside the big plain building, staring at a giant black door on the shitty side of town, and tilt my head to the side. I shouldn’t be here. In fact, I should be running as far as I can from this place, this assured hellhole. I can’t do that though.
I have nothing, absolutely nothing.
That’s not exactly true. I do have something, something that Mr. Sam is drooling over. I am a twenty-year-old virgin. My little brother is a ward of the state, but Mr. Sam swears he’ll move him to a better facility.
At eighteen, my brother should be heading to college. Instead, he’s trying to learn how to eat again by himself. A massive head injury six months ago left him for dead, and it left me up to my eyeballs in debt.
Blake and I have different fathers, both deadbeats. Our mother isn’t much better, but she’s tried here and there. When Blake was injured she couldn’t handle it, her addiction took over to mask the pain. She took off four months ago and left me in charge of him, and his debt.
My brother is the only reason I’m even considering this proposition. I don’t know how Mr. Sam’s man found me. All I know is that I was made an offer that I cannot refuse. Blake needs care for the rest of his life, and I aim to give him the best care I can. Even if that means I’m selling my body, and my soul to a stranger.
The big black door flies open and there is a man standing there. His black eyes meet mine and he lifts his chin.
“Ms. Penelope?” he asks.
I gulp, looking down at my feet before I bring my gaze back up to his. “Yes, that’s me.”
He smirks. “You’ll do quite nicely, come inside,” he murmurs standing to the side to allow me passage.
I glance back behind me, taking in the world one last time before I thrust myself into what I already know will be complete darkness. Walking past the threshold, the door closes behind me with a bang and comes with it a finality that I hadn’t anticipated to feel quite so intensely.
“You’ll be kept, then prepared in the basement. You won’t have to wait long,” the man declares.
Following behind him, I take shallow breaths and try to ease my anxiety. My life as I’ve known it is now over. However, a peace surrounds me at the same time. I’m going to help my brother. With my pain will come his sweet relief and safety.
CHAPTER ONE
SUNDAY EVENING
ALDRICH
I wait in Whitty’s driveway. I’ve already texted him, to let him know that I’m here. My fingers grip the steering wheel as I think about what is awaiting me tonight.
It could be nothing.
I could be disappointed in the woman Sam has procured. However, something electric is in the air tonight, and I have a feeling everything in my life is about to change—drastically.
“Ready for this?” Whitake
r’s voice booms as he slams the car door.
I didn’t even hear him open it, I was so lost in thought. I glance up at my rearview mirror and notice a small black sedan parked across the street. “We have a tail we need to ditch,” I explain.
He snorts, “I left my backup car at the club in preparation. We’ll go, have a nice dinner, then sneak out the back.”
Shaking my head, I shift the car into drive and head toward the club. I’m too nervous to talk, or maybe too excited. I’m not quite sure, seeing as I haven’t felt much of either emotion in so many years. I don’t, which I am exactly.
Dinner is quiet. Both Whitty and I, lost inside of our own heads. I keep attempting to imagine the woman Sam has saved for me. Wondering what he thinks I’m looking for in a woman. He doesn’t know anything about me, other than the fact that I’ve been to these auctions more than a handful of times and walked out empty handed each and every time.
“Ready?” I ask Whitaker.
He glances up at me from his glass of scotch. His eyes look wild and he shakes his head once. “Fuck no, but yeah,” he chuckles. “I don’t anticipate finding anything I want to take home tonight,” he shrugs.
“No?”
Whitaker shakes his head but doesn’t say anything else as he stands. I follow suit and walk behind him. Following him to the back of the club, we slip out and jog toward his parked, black Ferrari.
“Really, a Ferrari?” I ask as I slide into the passenger seat.
Whitaker shrugs, “It’s the only black car I own.”
I roll my eyes as he heads toward the seedy part of town, toward the auction house. I catch him glancing in his rearview a few times, but he doesn’t make mention of anything, so I assume whoever was following us earlier has given up.
“We good?” I ask when he glances in his mirror again.
We’re almost to the auction house, and as much as I want to get inside, I really don’t want anyone photographing us on the way in.
“We’re good, Rich,” Whitaker murmurs as he pulls into a parking space.
Lifting my chin, I push the door open and shift one leg out. Together we walk up to the door. I knock once, and the man opens it, waiting for the texted password. Whitaker and I say it in unison, and he immediately steps to the side.
It’s dark, as usual, however there is something different. There are only two other men here aside from us. Usually there are at least ten.
The room is electric, just like the night air. Something is going to happen tonight. Something fucking huge.
I can’t wait.
PENELOPE
The woman smiles at me but doesn’t speak. She applies makeup to my face, and has already styled my hair, however I haven’t been able to see the outcome of either. Once she applies something light and sheer to my lips, she reaches beside her and hands me a fistful of fabrics.
“Put these on. I’ll help,” she says, speaking for the first time this evening.
Standing from the chair I set the fabric down and gasp as I pull the first piece up. It’s completely sheer. A see-through white lace bra. Reaching for the second piece, the panties are the same.
I clutch them to my chest and shake my head.
“Yes, and I have a robe for you,” She explains, thrusting another sheer fabric toward me. The robe is see-through white lace as well.
I’ve been under no illusion that I gave myself over to a group of saints for a price. However, I didn’t expect this. The past four days I’ve been treated really well. I’ve been kept isolated in a room, but I’ve been fed, and they even had a bathroom. It was better than I anticipated. But this? I was not expecting it.
This is the night everything will change. This is the night my virginity is to be sold, and I become a whore. At least, I assume that’s what will happen. Mr. Sam told me that my virginity would fetch a great price. That it would be enough to keep my brother comfortable in his new facility for a year, and then further arrangements could be made after that.
A year is a long time at a facility like that. A good, clean, caring facility. I couldn’t turn it down, even if it meant selling my body. Which I was prepared to do. Which I must do.
Now that it's come down to it, I’m nervous, especially with the minuscule outfit this woman is thrusting toward me. No man has ever seen me naked before. Not ever. And now? Now, a potential room full of men will see me.
Sucking in a breath, I close my eyes and reopen them.
I strip.
The lace is a little scratchy, it’s obviously cheap, but it’s doing its purpose, which is to show off my pink tipped nipples beneath the bra, and my bare pussy and ass beneath the panties.
I’ve been waxed, plucked, and prepared for tonight.
My body is atheistically ready, even if my mind isn’t.
The door opens, and I clutch the sheer robe closed, in hopes of covering myself, but I can tell by the smirk on the man in the suits face, it doesn’t work.
“I won’t touch you, girl,” he announces. “Put on your shoes. The men wait.”
I slip into the sky high white shoes, my legs feeling like Jell-O. I try to walk toward him. I force myself with each step I take.
My breathing is coming out in pants, and I know my chest is rapidly rising and falling, because his eyes are now staring at my breasts.
“The other one is waiting,” he states.
He turns from me and begins to walk. I follow closely, but not too closely, behind him. He opens another door and waits but doesn’t go inside. I quickly hurry past him and freeze once I’m in the room. There is one other girl dressed identical to me, but she’s in pink instead of white.
“I’m Penelope,” I offer shyly.
She looks up at me, her big green eyes meeting mine and she nods. I watch as tears fill her gaze, and her lip begins to tremble. “Sold to the highest bidder,” she whispers.
“It will be over with soon,” I say, trying to give her a shaky smile.
Her eyes widen and then narrow. “Only when we’re dead, will it be over,” she states.
I frown, just as the door opens. “On the platforms,” a voice booms.
She doesn’t say anything else. We both climb onto the platforms. I stare at the mirror in front of me and take in my body. My dark brown hair is long, but curled and styled pretty. My makeup is subtle, and I feel like I look younger than I am because of it.
The panties are cut higher than I would normally wear, but combined with the tall shoes they make my legs look a mile long. My breasts are smallish, but encased in the lace they look, dare I think—pretty.
In fact, I shouldn’t think that I do look pretty at all, I’m being sold for a night of sex. However, I actually feel beautiful as I look at myself in the glass reflection.
CHAPTER TWO
ALDRICH
The other two men have probably been here before, but I don’t recognize them. We all four sit down in the front row, ready to view what is behind the two-way glass in front of us.
“Something is weird tonight,” Whitaker mumbles next to me.
I dip my chin in agreement. I’ve been feeling it all fucking night long. From the moment the sun set, practically. The house lights dim, then I watch as the lights in the viewing room brighten.
There are only two girls in front of us. One in pink and one in white. The girl in pink is small, fragile, and blonde. She isn’t my type at all. My eyes shift over to the one in white and my cock immediately twitches beneath my slacks.
It’s her.
Mine.
Her body is slight, but curvy. Her tits also small, but fucking perky, and I can’t help but imagine what they would look like clamped with gorgeous diamonds weighing them down at the nipples. Her neck is slender, bare and practically begging for a collar.
“Gentlemen,” Mr. Sam calls out. I’m surprised to see him, usually he hides in his office. Tearing my eyes from the dark-haired creature, I look over to him. “Tonight, is special. Tonight, I’ve called you here because I feel as if y
ou men could appreciate the women in front of you more than anyone.”
I snort. We can pay for them, is what he means.
Mr. Sam’s throat clears. “Both of these women are pure, untouched, and have freely offered themselves for purchase. I will be holding this auction myself, right here, right now.”
I sit up a little straighter as his words sink in.
Untouched.
Virgins.
Holy Fuck.
My eyes find the dark-haired beauty in white and scan her again. My cock strains against my slacks begging to be freed for the first time in what feels like ages.
I must have her.
She’s mine.
All mine.
“I will start the bidding for Penelope off at one million dollars,” he announces pointing to my woman. Mine.
I don’t immediately lift my hand. I want to, but I need to play it cool, let the other men show their hands and figure out who my real competition is.
Immediately one man lifts his hand. Then another raises the bid, and the two go at one another until they’re up to four-million and the original bidder backs out.
“Four million, one hundred thousand,” Sam shouts.
“Seven million,” I say coolly, lifting two fingers.
“Seven, five,” the other bidder grinds out.
Shifting my gaze to the side, I take a good look at his profile. His jaw is hard, his fists clenched, and he’s sweating. His eyes are on the girl and he’s panting. He wants her, but not because she calls to him. No, he wants to own her, and I can already tell he will not treat her well. His black eyes are too intently focused on her.