Page 44 of Taming Seraphine

My breath catches, and every butterfly in my stomach takes flight. Will he finish what he started when he attached those nipple clamps in the fetish store, or will he bring out one of the other toys?

I run my tongue along my bottom lip, and his eyes track the movement, even though his face remains an impenetrable mask.

“What.” I gulp, my throat suddenly dry. “What are you going to do?”

“That’s entirely up to you,” he says. “Are you ready for your punishment, or would you like to have it tomorrow?”

My chest deflates, as does my anticipation. Leroi was so ruthless with Rosalind, yet he’s being soft with me. “Why are you giving me a choice?”

“Opening up about your past had to stir up old traumas. You might not be in the right state of mind to face being chastised.”

“But we’re still going to kill those men?”

“Of course.”

I nod. “Then I’ll take my punishment now.”

He releases his grip on my chin, robbing me of his warmth. I whimper, my body trembling with the suspense.

Leroi stands back and says, “I’m leaving to fetch some of our purchases. By the time I return, I want you in your room, kneeling. Is that understood?”

My heart skips a beat. “Alright.”

“You will address me as sir,” he says, his voice stern.

Arousal hits me straight in my core, making my knees tremble. It takes every effort to keep my voice even when I reply with “Yes, sir.”

Leroi turns on his heel and stalks toward the dining table, where we left the bags of toys and equipment from Wonderland. I stand transfixed, my gaze glued to the muscles bunching and releasing beneath his shirt as he moves. It’s no wonder Rosalind went to such desperate lengths to see him again. Leroi has an amazing body.

He reaches the table, turns, and arches an eyebrow. “Go.”

I bolt into the room and pull off my shirt, thankful that everything I’m wearing is easy to remove with shaking fingers. After folding each item and arranging them into a neat pile at the foot of my bed, I kneel on the wooden floor and face the doorway.

Every second that passes feels like an eternity of torment. I’m so eager for Leroi to return that it’s hard to be afraid, but as he turns the handle, my spine stiffens with dread.

Leroi steps in, bringing in a cool draft that makes my skin prickle into goosebumps, both with excitement and with the change in temperature. He pauses at the doorway for several frantic heartbeats, his breath catching, his eyes fathomless pools of black.

Replaying his instructions, I remember he only wanted me kneeling, not naked. Heat floods my cheeks, spreads down my chest, and tightens my nipples. Maybe he’ll punish me with the clamps?

My gaze drops to what he’s holding—I don’t recognize the pink leather. Without looking in my direction, he walks around my kneeling form and places it on the bed. The gentle clink of metal tells me it’s some kind of restraint.

Arousal surges, and I squeeze my thighs. All the leather items we bought were buttery, soft, and lined with a velvety suede. They don’t even compare with the twins’ rope.

Leroi walks to the table on the side of the room and lowers himself into a chair. “Turn, so you’re facing me.”

“Yes, sir.” I shuffle around on my knees and fix my gaze on the parquet floor.

“Eyes on me,” he says.

I raise my gaze, running my eyes from his black leather shoes, to his black pants, and up to the black shirt that clings to his prominent pecs. His chest rises and falls with even breaths, as though he’s used to dealing with a woman kneeling in front of him naked. I’m torn between looking into his face and glancing over to see what he deposited on the bed.

Disobedience might worsen my punishment, so I decide to look him in the eye.

He picks up a glass of whiskey and takes a sip before setting it back down. The movement stretches my anticipation until it’s agonizing.

“Do you know why you’re here?” he asks.

“Yes, sir,” I rasp.

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