Page 38 of Líadan's Code

The words make her breath hitch, and I imagine what her pretty pussy would taste like. The hair on her cunt is well groomed, without any hair left. It happens to allow her clit piercing to peek out at me as she moves, making my cock get even harder than it is now.

I love to argue, but I think arguing with her is one of my favorite things at the moment. Líadan sighs as she goes back to her shower, and I enjoy watching her.

“Daddy relies on terror and gaslighting to get his way,” she says finally. “The family is unruly, loves to party, make money, and break the rules. Years ago, he opened his club in Chicago to allow them to have auctions, fuck their human pets, and enjoy themselves. He thought it would temper some of their need to rebel.”

“Mmhmm,” I say, knowing she’s not done yet.

“It’s also one of the reasons the Banshee was born,” she continues. “He… did some things to make me the way I am now. I wear a mask because it’s easier for people to fear the things they can’t see. The men in the warehouses see a woman with a devil’s face walk in, make a kill in the most gruesome way possible and then leave. They fuel the rumors. Daddy hires family members whenever he can for the business.”

“What did he do?” I rasp.

Líadan takes a deep breath, giving a small shrug as she picks up her body wash.

“He broke my body and my mind when I was seventeen,” she murmurs. “That’s all I want to say on it right now, but I can’t process a lot of emotions the way normal people do, because my mind did a lot to protect me. So I’m stunted.”

“I refuse to believe you’re stunted,” I deny. “You may process things differently, but you looked like you were feeling a lot the other day.”

“That’s the problem!” she yells dramatically. She’s cute as fuck, and she doesn’t even know it. “I get overwhelmed, run, and then refuse to talk about it. I can’t laugh or cry. I’m broken.”

“Princess, we’re all broken in some way,” I say. “I like pain with my pleasure, I thrive in control and fixing things, and I hate lazy ass people. I’m sure there are many diagnoses for us. I don’t like to be labeled, though.”

“You’re too much,” she mumbles, her lips twitching. Líadan may not smile, but I can tell that she feels amusement.

“Look, I don’t want to overstep or fuck up with you again. I also don’t want to push you to relive trauma, but know it will come. I have this need to know everything about you. I haven’t felt anything like this before. So how do I make sure I won’t trigger you?” I ask.

Líadan chews her lip as she thinks, beginning to shave her legs. She flashes her beautiful pussy at me, making me groan as I palm my cock. She pretends not to notice as she hikes her leg up on a built in ledge, focused on her razor.

God, she’s going to drive me mad.

“I’m no one’s good girl,” she says, her voice changing as if she’s distancing herself emotionally from the words. “I don’t like it when people walk up behind me, I dislike small talk. I am always armed, if I don’t see you or know you’re there, I’ll probably stab first and ask questions later.”

“Does that include your home?” I ask. “If Brendan comes up to you, how do you respond?”

“I can usually smell the gun oil and sage before he pulls me into his arms,” she explains. “He’s Daddy’s enforcer, which doesn’t always mean just torture and interrogation. Brendan also takes meetings for him more and more because he scares people. He’s always armed since you never know what could happen, which sometimes means a gun fight or two.”

“Hmm. Why aren’t you his enforcer?” I ask. “It seems as if you’re a secret.”

Switching legs, she nods. “That’s exactly what I am,” she says. “I don’t attend parties, social functions, nothing. Most of the family has almost forgotten he has a daughter. Mama was killed when I was young, and I retreated into books and drawing. He hid me from the world and still is. No one can know I’m the Banshee.”

“How long does your dad plan to keep this up?” I ask. The work I’m doing has a very firm timeline. Something big is happening in a few short weeks.

“Until he announces that I’m his heir,” she murmurs. “Daddy has to announce someone, even if he’s guiding them for a few more years. The family is impatient, and they expect a man. Like?—”

“Brendan?” I ask, eyes raised. “Seems surprising to name someone who works for you over your own daughter.”

“Eh, he’s a cousin somewhere in the family lineage. I’m fairly certain it’s so diluted it doesn’t matter,” she snorts. “The family expects someone with a cock, and I simply don’t have one.”

“Could have fooled me,” I tease her as she switches off the water. “There’s balls of steel somewhere too.”

Shaking her head, she steps out of the shower, grabbing us both a towel.

“You could have spoken to me from outside of the shower,” she says. “You’re soaked now.”

“Worth it to get you to actually listen to me,” I say, pulling off my clothes to dry off and wrap the towel around my waist.

Grunting something I can’t hear, she leads me out of the room, pointing at the hamper for my clothes. Once she’s completely dried off, she pulls on a long-sleeved T-shirt and socks, and nothing else.

“Why do you hate panties so damn much?” I groan. “Do you ever wear any?”

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