Page 97 of The Mafia Assassin's Redemption
Exactly my point, but I shut Gaia down with one look. Icontinue to browse with Harry on the floor, turned on, angry, hungry, dripping wet for me.
I pick some other items, nice ones, like a paddle that’ll leave a mark and not break the skin the way the heavy one might or cause hard-hitting pain like the thin one. With all these things, the perfect balance is the right one for the sub.
“I’ll take them,” I say.
Then I examine the outfits and pick the one with care that she’ll leave in.
I’m buying them all though, because with each one she tries on, I will touch her, rile her, and lead her to a place where she won’t be able to contain herself.
These things are what I’d like her to wear under her plain clothes. She’s dressing a little sexier lately, but the shopping trip I made her take was more to annoy and provoke her, not change her style. I guess it was a slight punishment because if I’m being honest, it pisses me off to see Harry dressed in her shapeless clothes, and it pisses me off even more that it’s Harry who hooks me deep under my skin.
Her in whatever she chooses to wear along with something hot and sexy or kinky underneath revs motors.
Mine.
“But just for now,” I mutter under my breath.
I give Madame Gaia the toys, including a butt plug and a clit stimulator to force orgasms, things I can control to keep her off-balance.
Then I go into the dressing room with the items I want her in.
For a moment, I can’t fucking breathe. “You look absolutely fuckable.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“I want you.” I examine the different sets I have and land on one that Gaia chose. Yeah, it’s fucking her.High purple heels she’ll need my support to walk around in, and it’s fantasy fucking city made real.
She takes a breath, not lifting her gaze from the floor, and as I run my gaze along the length of her body, the small drops of wetness between her legs on the floor is a sight almost as perfect as Harry. “Killing for me. Protecting me.”
“You know why.”
“No.”
I almost explain. But I have tried and she can’t, or rather won’t, see it. Her head is still caught on the horrors of her childhood, ones I’m a part of. And while I didn’t kill her parents, I just might kill Uncle Anthony if he’s betrayed her, and the bottom line is I’m still guilty, anyway. Her parents died on my watch. Her uncle might, too.
“That’s for you to work out, Harry.”
I sit and hold out the stockings. She doesn’t lift her gaze, even as she stiffens. I slowly smile.
“Torin, may I look?”
“It should be Master or Sir, but you’re lucky I don’t care about semantics.” From her. “You can look and move and even stand.”
She looks. First. Just a quick head turn to the elegant silk stockings.
“Put them on.”
Her cheeks redden. The color rises from her tits and creeps up the sides of her neck to her face. I think I love it when Harry goes into full bloom like this.
But she stands and snatches the stockings.
“Careful. If you rip them, you’ll be punished.”
She pulls them on. Carefully.
She looks so fucking hot, her now-bare pussy winking at me, moisture on the swollen lips. I hand her the bra top that looks like it covers, but it’s so fucking sheer that the onlymodest part is the silver that laces over her nipples, from one side of the cup to the other.
Next come the panties. They’re bikini-brief style, slightly puffy, sheer, and this time the lace goes from the top of the panties above her asshole, along her slit, to the top of the panties at the front. Both pieces are adorned with little bows.
