Page 130 of Taming Seraphine

“You’re so fucking beautiful, especially when you’re covered in blood.”

She glances down at her breasts and smiles. “You like the spatters?”

“I like the flesh beneath them more, but the blood makes you look like an avenging angelic warrior.”

I kneel at her feet and pull off her shoes and socks, revealing her dainty little feet. After pressing kisses on each arch, I reach up and slide her leggings down her hips.

Blood covers her belly, her thighs and even the thatch of blonde curls that cover her pussy. Steam rises from the bathtub behind her, creating a faint halo around her body. Maybe I’m drunk on adrenaline and desire, but she looks truly celestial.

I shake my head. “What a dirty little angel you are, covered in another man’s blood.”

“It doesn’t count when it’s the blood of my enemies,” she says with a smirk. “Are you going to wash it off?”

“I’m going to do more than wash you,” I growl.

Seraphine watches me undress with a hunger that would make another man blush. Her lips part each time I remove an item of clothing, making my cock swell to the point of pain. By the time I stand before her in just my boxers, she’s panting.

“Let me.” She reaches for the waistband, her eyes blazing with blue fire.

My heart pounds so hard that its reverberations make my cock throb, and a shiver runs down my spine and settles in my balls. She might be tiny and unarmed, but I’ve seen the damage this woman can do to a penis.

It’s then I realize I just fucked a former Lolita assassin who still hasn’t overcome her compulsive urges to maim and kill. She will use any weapon necessary to castrate a man, including her teeth.

Letting her near that part of my anatomy is like placing it in a steel trap and hoping it won’t get snapped.

But I do it anyway.

Cold sweat breaks out across my skin as she runs her delicate fingers along the waistband of my boxers. As she takes hold of the elastic, she gazes up at me through those huge, cornflower blue eyes.

Her stare is filled with incandescent heat, but I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a portent of doom.

My cock, that stupid motherfucker, swells at the prospect of Seraphine’s teeth sinking into its flesh. I inhale a deep, shuddering breath, the hairs on the back of my neck rising.

It’s not like I mistrust Seraphine. Her needs are simple. She wants to find her brother, get revenge on the men who raped and murdered her mother, and make sure that Samson is in broken pieces, six-feet underground.

And she wants me.

She slides down my boxers, inch by painstakingly slow inch, until the crown of my cock springs free.

Her eyes widen. “Wow,” she says, her voice breathy. “So big.”

From any other woman, those words would be a compliment. I can’t stop thinking about how she sliced Billy Blue’s severed penis like it was salami.

I clear my throat. “That time you bit through Samson’s cock.”

“Yes?” she whispers.

“What happened to the rest of it?”

“I chewed it.” She shrugs and pulls down my boxers, exposing even more of my shaft.

My knees tremble. Seraphine is taking her sweet time and I’m not sure how much of this suspense I can take.

“Why?” I rasp.

“So there would be nothing to sew back.”

She pulls the waistband around my hips, finally freeing my balls. After weighing them in her hands, she runs the pads of her fingers along the underside of my sac, igniting my nervous system with a lightning storm of sensations.

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