Eden's Sacrifice (The Virgin Call Girls)

“Mr. Semenov, we have arrived. They ask that we wait here, and you not exit the car until someone comes to retrieve you.” shit. I must have dozed off. My eye lands on the file, but once again I wave it off. I don’t need a file to tell me Vastiya is a dirtbag and seeing pics of his daughters will change nothing.

My fingers drum on my leg as they bounce up and down. It’s like I have been injected with some sort of hyper serum. Suddenly, I can’t seem to sit still. My veins feel like I have hijacked them. Something is up. I only ever feel like this when I am on to something. When I have an idea that I know will pan out. When I am looking for an enemy or someone who crossed me and I exact vengeance, it’s when my body comes alive. “Sir, it’s time for you put on your blindfold.” my body tightens at the idea of being unaware, but I tell myself I am safe, and this is not that kind of establishment.

A hand grips my elbow as we navigate a corridor of some. My extra senses kick in as I try to listen and smell. I have found growing up in the Bratva and as the son of its leader; I have to employ all of my senses. I smell champagne and cheeses. Leather and sanitizer. The latter making me feel better. There is no telling what kind of shit they spread in a place like this. “Please, step forward, mister Semenov. Once you hear the lock employ, you may remove your blindfolds. I stocked everything you will need in the mini fridge. You have a private restroom and there is a bed should you decide to…take advantage of your wins before the end of night. There is a house phone should you need help. Good luck.”

The lock clicks in place, and I remove the silk mask from my face. The first thing I do is look around and take stock of my surroundings. My eyes immediately scan for cameras and anything that could a listening device. I learned very early in life there is always someone watching and listening. Spending a little longer checking the room, I am remiss to admit the setup is nice and far beyond what I expected.

Finally satisfied that everything is set up for anonymity, I grab the catalogue off the couch and sit. Ignoring the disgust in my mouth from what I am doing, I flick through the pages. Page after page I see girls, some cute, some downright childlike. As a man, I can certainly see the appeal. Some of them, you can see the fear and desperation dripping off of them. Others just simply look resound and beaten by life.

Almost to the end of the catalogue, I come to a group of girls, all of them look to be about 18 years old. Riley, Savannah, Harley, Giselle, Bianca and…everything stills. The room quiets and my throat clog up. My eyes dilate as they try to take in the angel they are seeing on the pages. Jesus. The final angel on this page is Eden. How fitting. This golden-haired, innocent little vessel, sitting on a couch in gold lingerie is my salvation. Christ, she looks like a little angel…a sexy little wood nymph covered in gold with tiny lips. She’d suffocate trying to wrap them around my cock…holy fuck!!!

My body shakes violently as dopamine shoots straight through me. One glimpse at a piece of paper and she already has me torn into knots. My cock wakes up, panting, jovial, rock hard. Mine. My hand knocks over the lamp on the side table as I scramble to retrieve the room phone and secure this angel. I see her opening bid is fifty thousand and my heart pounds, pissed and panicked. That number is too fucking low for this teenage pussy covered in gold silk. No. She is worth more than that.

“Mr. Semenov.” the voice on the other end of the receiver says to me.

“Eden. The last girl in the catalogue. Pre bid is twenty million. I want to know immediately if someone else over bids me. Fuck that. IF someone does, you have my permission to add twenty more to my bid. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTNACES IS SHE TO GO TO ANYONE ELSE. Do you understand?” she sucks in a breath as she stammers out her understanding of my command. My mind buzzes with the ways this could go wrong. Scenarios of how someone else could slip through the cracks. The number of ways I would rain down on this place to get her back. Shit. Unzipping my pants, I pull out my staff and stroke him, doing my best to calm him and reassure him.