Taming Seraphine

SERAPHINE

Leroi’s hand is warm and large. Touching his bare skin muffles out the music and chatter and turmoil. I first noticed it when I first arrived in his apartment and he drew my hair off my brow. It’s like being encased in a cocoon during a storm, knowing nothing can break through and cause me harm.

Even when he’s cracking stupid jokes and hinting that I have multiple personalities, he makes me feel safe. It’s not just because he’s steady and strong, but because he fills a part of me that I thought I’d lost forever.

I didn’t realize how much calmer I felt with Leroi until he left me alone with that therapist. She kept asking me questions about my life, and I didn’t know how to react. Everything she asked triggered horrible memories. She wouldn’t shut up until my ears filled with excited male voices mingling with Mom’s screams. When she tried to touch me with that box of tissues, I needed her scream to drown out the ones in my head.

It also didn’t help that I noticed the way she smiled at Leroi, like she was angling to take him for herself.

He releases my hand, pulling back his warmth and letting in a rush of chaos.

I take a breath, my heart thudding so hard and fast that its vibrations reach my fingertips. I shouldn’t trust this stranger, yet there’s a part of me that wants to cling to him and never let go. I know to the marrow of my bones that he’s the only person who can pull every inch of me out of the basement.

Even if my instincts want to give him my trust, experience has taught me to stay alert. If Leroi betrays me, he’ll join all the other bastards in hell.

“Tell me why,” he says.

“Why what?”

“Why do you want orgasms?”

Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I lower my lashes. “I felt something earlier.” My tongue darts out to lick my lips. “When we were in your room.”

He leans so close that it takes every effort not to fidget. “Explain.”

“I really liked how you made me feel. That’s never happened before,” I say in a small voice.

He draws back. I don’t dare to meet his gaze for fear that I might see pity. From the way he talks, he thinks I might be afraid of men. I’m not. I just want to hurt them. If I can get pleasure from the only one I can stand, then that’s my business.

“Let’s start with something simple,” he says, his voice gentle.

My attention snaps to his face. “What are you thinking about?”

“I need to know your limits.”

“Limits?” I cock my head to the side.

“Your boundaries. What can you handle? What things are a hard no?”

Up close, his eyes aren’t so dark. They’re a rich cinnamon, ringed with the deepest umber and flecked with varying shades of walnut. Toasty and warm and edible. I’m torn between tasting him and losing myself in his gaze.

“Seraphine?”

I blink, my eyes shifting to his furrowed brows. “Yes?”

“Are you listening?” He repeats his question about boundaries.

“I don’t like shock collars. Or chips.”

His lips tighten. They’re back to looking cruel again, but I think his anger is directed at Dad and the twins. I raise my fingers to the band-aid behind my ear to check on my wound, which is now much less tender.

Leroi’s eyes track the movement, and he swallows.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks, his words halting. “We can research different⁠—”

“If you’re about to say professionals, the answer is no.” I return my fingers to the straw. “You’re the only person I can trust.”

He knocks back his liquor and raises his glass to ask the waitress for another.

“Are you nervous?” I shift closer and lean into his side.

“Cautious,” he replies. “I need to know your boundaries before we begin. What things make you uncomfortable apart from shock collars?”

“Rude men,” I say.

“That much is obvious,” he says, his eyes twinkling. “Anything else?”

“Don’t tamper with my food or anything I drink, and don’t shoot me with tranquilizer darts.”

His face drops. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Good, then can we begin?” I ask.

Leroi rubs the spot between his brows. I’ve observed him do this enough now to know it’s because he’s frustrated. I lean forward and take a sip of a milkshake that has the texture of melted ice cream infused with strawberry pulp.

I’m deadly serious about learning some self-control. Gabriel is going to be frail and weak when we find him. He’s going to need a lot of care. I can’t nurse him back to health if I keep lashing out at the first flash of temper.

Leroi is the only person who might be able to help us. He’s cool and efficient, like the handler, only that man was creepy and cruel. He knew I was in that basement against my will, but all he cared about was getting me ready to execute the most powerful man in New Alderney.

“Let me take you somewhere that will help you understand my question,” Leroi says, already sounding like he doesn’t believe me.

Fifteen minutes later, we’re standing in Wonderland, a huge store that smells of rosemary and sage. It’s dimly lit with black furniture and racks upon racks of sex toys hung on its cherry-red walls. It looks nothing like Alice in Wonderland. Leroi strolls to the back as though he’s been here a hundred times, and I stay close to his side.

It’s empty, save for the woman standing behind the counter wearing a burgundy corset with chains looping out of its pockets. Blood-red hair spills down her tattooed shoulders, and the miniature top hat perched on her head tells me she’s cosplaying the Mad Hatter.

She’s only looking in our direction and not approaching, so I turn my attention back to Leroi. It might seem strange that I’m allowing him to take control of my pleasure when I don’t understand his ulterior motives, but I trust Leroi not to take advantage since he’s already been such a gentleman.

I’ve never heard of an aroused man with a gun not using his bargaining power to get off. For the first time, I’ve wanted to do more with an erection than slice it at the root. Leroi might just be the one who helps me feel good.

“When I asked about limits, this is what I was talking about.” He gestures at a rack of leather belts and cuffs. “These are used for bondage.”

Ropes of varying colors hang beside a display of small black shackles with silver studs, and realization dawns on me with the speed of a hurricane. Leroi wants to tie me up.

Memories surface, reminding me of the early days before I learned how to defend myself from the twins. I snatch my hand away. “No ropes.”

“I’m not asking you to try any of these,” he says, his voice low. “We need to know your limits.”

“I’m not sure about the leather stuff,” I say. “But definitely no ropes.”

“Good.” He places a hand on the small of my back, his warmth seeping through my shirt and infusing me with a sense of calm. “Let’s move onto the other toys.”

The next rack contains blindfolds. Leroi extracts a black leather one and holds it out to me. The fabric behind it is a soft suede that feels like velvet.

“These are for sensory deprivation.”

I nod. “That’s okay, but I want pink.”

Leroi chuckles. “Good choice.”

My gaze wanders to a delicate-looking blindfold with winged tips. Instead of choosing that, he picks up a padded one that’s large enough to cover the ears. Since it’s the color I want, I don’t object, and we move onto the next rack.

“These items are for impact play.” He gestures at some leather paddles.

They come in all shapes and sizes. One looks like a ping-pong paddle, another a hairbrush, and another resembles a spatula you’d find in a kitchen. Next to them is a rack of canes. Seeing them leaves me feeling indifferent.

“Spanking would be better,” I reply with a shrug.

“Let’s move onto the next.”

It’s a rack of what I can only describe as crocodile clips from science experiments attached to chains. I stiffen, wondering if they carry an electric current.

“What are those?” I whisper.

“Nipple clamps.” He picks up a pair that’s dipped in black rubber. “Give me your little finger.”

I offer him my pinky, letting Leroi attach the clamp to its tip. There’s pressure, but little else. “What’s so special about this?”

His gaze drops to my nipple, which tightens under his attention. “The clamp isn’t for fingers,” he says, his voice husky.

Warmth surges low in my belly. I’m sure it has nothing to do with a silly clamp and more with the way Leroi is breathing so close to me. His face is expressionless and still, but the rapid rise and fall of his chest tells me he really likes this toy.

It reminds me of how excited he was when I held the knife to his throat. My clit throbs with the remembered sensation of rubbing against his thick, hard shaft, and my own breath quickens with anticipation.

“Would you like to try it over your clothes?” he asks and I nod, unable to find the words. It’s been so long since anyone’s asked my permission to touch me.

He brings it to my nipple in a motion that’s agonizingly slow. Its jaws open, and he hesitates.

“Do it,” I say.

The clamp closes in around my nipple, sending a surge of sensation between my legs. It’s so intense that I grip the edge of a shelf for balance and squeeze my eyes shut.

“Do you like it?” Leroi asks.

The pressure borders on pain, and my throat tightens, as do the muscles of my core. Samson and Gregor used pain to control me until I learned to dismiss the sensations. I don’t understand why it’s making me so aroused.

“Seraphine?” Leroi’s voice breaks through my thoughts.

“It’s nice,” I say through shallow breaths.

“Look at me.”

My eyes flutter open.

Leroi’s irises are a ring of dark brown around dilated pupils, and his jaw is tight. The intensity of his gaze sends heat rushing through my veins, and the pulse between my legs quickens.

“It’s more than nice, isn’t it?” he asks, his voice a low growl.

“Yes,” I whisper, my throat dry.

He removes the clamp, leaving my nipple sensitive and throbbing and wanting more. His gaze lingers on mine as he tosses it into the basket and pulls me toward the next rack.

Following him on trembling legs, I lean into his side, feeling more alive than I have in half a decade. When I was in that basement, I used to imagine someone would burst through the doors and set me free. The fairytale was better than facing my reality, but I knew better than to believe in a knight in shining armor. It was nothing more than a dumb fantasy.

My mysterious rescuer would slay my enemies, heal my wounds, and reunite me with Gabriel. We’d all live happily ever after in a castle with its own chocolate fountain. I never imagined this savior making me enjoy sex or giving me an orgasm.

I’m glad I spared Leroi’s life.

At least for now.