"Oh my, isn't she pretty?"
          Vranphile smiled warmly, his fingers steepled elegantly beneath his chin. The Auction Hall around them seemed to melt away into the background as he leaned in towards his companion.
         "Would you like for me to buy her?" He asked huskily.
          Markie jerked away from him, but he caught her by the shoulder and pulled her against him. He looked down upon her with an intense, passionate gaze, delighting at the sight of her rosy cheeks and startled wide-eyes. "Oh, I--"
          "Don't tell me you didn't consider it, if only briefly," he whispered conspiratorially, and Markie flushed a deep wine, finally finding it in herself to turn away. He reached out to touch her chin, steering her focus back toward him.
          "Don't you know it's impolite to ignore people when they're speaking to you?" He chastised gently with a wink. His fiancée shook her head, brown curls framing her heart-shaped face.
          "Oh no, it's just that--" the tight ringlets bounced with the violent tossing of her head. "I could never-- never--"
          Own another human being? Vranphile thought, and smiled inwardly at the irony. Outwardly, he kissed his open consort on the forehead, soothing her. None of the other girls were quite as naive and bright-eyed as his darling Markie.
          "Five hundred? Do I hear six-hundred?" The auctioneer called from on stage. Beside him stood the object up for bid, with chocolate skin and exotic eyes. She seemed oddly defiant, in the midst of it all. "Going once... going twice..."
          "Sold, to the gentleman in violet!" The auctioneer turned toward the couple with a dramatic flourish, startling Markie. She turned toward the one whom she swore loyalty to, confusion dancing in her emerald eyes. Vranphile simply grinned, wickedly boyish in the presence of her calculating orbs.
          "See, now?" He said, leaning in to kiss the protest away from her mouth. "You didn't even have to ask."

--

          Markie wasn't sure what Vranphile had done to the proud tribeswoman, to leave her mewling and greedy for their touch. The woman, strangely domesticated, did nothing to fight off the open, invasive caresses that Vranphile gave her. He seemed very smug at the sight of such a sensual, aching woman in heat.
          "Vranphile...” Markie whispered, her hand trembling as it hovered above their possession's smooth charcoal skin. Despite Vranphile's insistence that she touch her, Markie hesitated. "What.. what are we going to do with her?"
          Vranphile came up from behind, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down her slender neck. "Whatever we want."