Page 48 of Taming Seraphine

“Please, Leroi,” she whispers. “I need you.”

Leaning down, I place my lips to her ear. “Obedient girls get orgasms. Girls who conceal weapons from their Doms and disobey their orders get to lie on their beds with aching pussies and no release.”

Her lips part. “But?—”

“No, buts.”

Tears glisten in her eyes. “But what if I want to pee?”

“Then you’ll shuffle off the bed and make your way to the bathroom.”

Her features harden, and her eyes glint with murder. I reach down and run my fingers over her cheek. “Now, take your punishment. I’ll return later to free your arms.”

“Wait—”

“This is what you agreed to, Seraphine. Don’t be a brat.” I turn on my heel and walk out of the door, leaving her gasping.

Now that she knows I’m more than capable of giving her an orgasm, I expect her behavior to improve.

EIGHTEEN

LEROI

I leave Seraphine writhing on the bed, trembling with frustration. She glares at me, her face reddening with each passing moment. I can’t help but feel a sadistic thrill from working her to the brink of orgasm and then denying her release.

“Please,” she whispers, sounding as helpless as she did when I found her in the basement.

My steps falter, only for a second, before I remind myself that beneath that sweet and delicate exterior is a young woman who could slit a man’s throat for having the wrong friends or gouge his eye for leering.

Seraphine must be tamed.

I step out of her room, confident she won’t be able to release herself from the binder. Nor will she be able to get off with her hands secured behind her back.

My phone rings, and I stride to where I left it on the dining table. It’s a call from Rita, the firm’s coordinator, who informs me that an assassin we employ has completed a job out of state.

Rita has been in the firm since before Anton retired. She’s a sweet woman in her sixties who crochets while accepting phone calls on contract kills. She also handles customer satisfaction.

“Someone wants to open a contract to avenge Frederic Capello,” she adds.

My nostrils flare. No one I left alive should be able to afford our rates. Keeping my voice even, I reply, “Oh?”

“Did you hear that a gunman wiped out the entire family this week?”

“He wants revenge?”

“Seems that way,” she says. “He wants us to track down the killer and bring him to a specific place alive.”

I pause, my jaw hardening. “We’re not bounty hunters.”

“That’s what I told him.” She chuckles. “But he’s willing to pay a million to find the killer. That’s why I’m passing on the inquiry to you.”

Shit.

This is why I thought long and hard about striking at the Capellos. Whoever’s after their killer won’t give up if we refuse. He’ll just give the job to one of our competitors, and I’ll have another reason to watch my back.

“Did he leave a name?”

“Of course, not.”

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