Page 146 of Taming Seraphine

FIFTY-SIX

LEROI

I navigate the twisting roads of Alderney Hill, gripping the steering wheel tightly enough to wear out its leather. What I thought would be a simple massacre to save my cousin from death row is turning out to be a complicated web of twists and betrayals.

Killing Frederic Capello when I did only slowed down a conspiracy to assassinate Benito, Cesare, and everyone else who’s loyal to the Montesano brothers, including myself.

The thought that Rosalind got close to me to gather intel on my extended family is maddening. I didn’t even see her coming. Everything about her screamed that she was just a clingy sub.

Seraphine’s stare burns the side of my face.

She wants explanations, but I don’t have the heart to tell her that the wild woman who was smashing up the Montesano heirlooms is Capello’s illegitimate daughter related by blood. I’m still trying to figure out how to break the news that the creepy handler who twisted her into a serial killer is my father figure.

My jaw clenches. This is a shit storm.

“What are you thinking?” she asks.

“We need to speed up the schedule,” I mutter. “If this hit on the Montesano family doesn’t get canceled, we’re all screwed.”

“You’re tense.”

I snort. “You think?”

Her hand slides over my thigh, but the touch is far from soothing. As her fingers make a slow ascent toward my crotch, all sensation rushes to my second brain.

“What are you doing?” I ask, trying to focus on the sharp angle ahead that leads to a steep drop.

“You think too much. I want to help.”

Seraphine’s fingers slide over my hardening cock to my zipper. Forcing my attention back onto the road, I exhale a shaky breath.

“And you think too little,” I reply.

Seraphine pulls down the zipper. My stomach clenches, and I suck in a sharp breath. I should tell her to stop, but I’m torn between the danger of distraction and the promise of pleasure.

Her fingers slide into my fly, her blunt nails grazing my expanding shaft. Adrenaline courses through my veins and anticipation tightens my balls as she grips me by the root and pumps.

Fuck.

“I don’t understand why you’re so stressed,” she replies. “Roman will pick up Rosalind’s sister and get the information he needs to stop the assassins.”

“It’s not that simple,” I reply with a groan. “If Rosalind holds out?—”

“She won’t.”

I want to squeeze my eyes shut, savor her gentle strokes, but a truck barreling around the bend sends my mind crashing back to the road.

“How can you be so sure Rosalind will talk?” I ask.

“I overheard how worried Miranda was when Rosalind didn’t come home. If Rosalind loves her sister as much as she loves her, then she’ll give Roman and Cesare the information they need.”

She strokes the pad of her thumb over my slit and smears precum across my crown.

My hips jerk, and I clench my teeth. “Maybe.”

“No doubt about it,” she says, her hand making twisting movements over my cock head. “I could have escaped the twins any time. The only thing that kept me staying was Gabriel.”

The momentary reminder of how those bastards fooled her into remaining their prisoner makes me deflate. Her fingers close in around my shaft like a vise, and she punctuates each word with a powerful tug. Electricity zips up and down my spine. I glance toward the passenger seat to check that she’s alright, but her eyes are closed.

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