Page 84 of Taming Seraphine

Her words are delivered with an inflection so flirtatious that I tear my gaze away from the impending waterfowl fight to look Seraphine full in the face. She’s no longer licking the ice cream; she sits and stares up at me through half-lidded eyes.

My eyes track the movement over her tongue darting out to lick her bottom lip, and I bite back a moan.

She’s doing this on purpose.

Little vixen.

Despite appearances, Seraphine isn’t a sweet, innocent girl. Anton trained her to become a Lolita assassin, and I’m not sure I can stomach what that entailed.

But one thing is for certain: Seraphine knows exactly what she’s doing. The only question is why. I’m already helping her find Gabriel and the men she needs to kill to erase her demons. I didn’t pull her out of that basement for my own sick pleasure, so there’s no need for the sexualized charade.

Her eyes flutter closed. “Hmmmm.”

“Stop that,” I snap.

“Stop what?” Her eyes open comically wide, confirming my suspicions.

A woman pushing a stroller walks by, accompanied by a gaggle of kids under the age of five. They pause in front of us to watch the swan being chased off by the ducks.

I lean into Seraphine and growl in her ear, “Tease me like this again, and I’ll restrain your arms again and bring you to the brink of orgasm again and again and again until you pass out from frustration.”

The air thickens, despite the breeze blowing in from across the lake. Seraphine shivers, her artificially darkened eyes dilating and she looks me straight in the eye.

“Is that a promise?” She gives the rounded tip of her cone a long, languid lick.

My cock stirs, and I grab a newspaper off the bench and place it on my lap. Thankfully, the family has moved on and can’t see the evidence of my arousal.

Little brat.

“It’s a warning,” I say, my jaw clenching.

She smirks, thinking she’s won this round. I can’t help but wonder if this was a technique she used to lure her targets. Only the most heinous of predators would approach a young girl enjoying her ice cream. I’m determined not to be one of them.

Her soft moan as she takes another lick of her cone makes my balls ache. I clamp a hand on her shoulder and pull her close.

“Don’t mess with me. That bullshit doesn’t work. I still remember what you did to Samson and Billy Blue.”

Her smirk fades, leaving her looking so murderous a shudder travels down my spine.

“They deserved it.”

“I agree.”

Any man who forces his way into the mouth of an unwilling victim is begging to have it bitten off.

Seraphine glances down at her cone and grimaces. “I don’t want it anymore.”

I rise off the bench. “Come. I want to take you somewhere you can get prepared for tonight.”

She tosses the cone into the bank of the lake, attracting the attention of the swan, who races toward the sugary treat with a pair of ducks in hot pursuit.

“Are we scratching off a name from my list?” she asks, sounding hopeful.

“I thought we could alternate between murder and training you out of your murderous impulses.”

She cocks her head. “Huh?”

I steer her down a path that leads to another of the park’s many exits. “One of your triggers is men touching you inappropriately.”

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