Taming Seraphine

SERAPHINE

Leroi orders me to pack my things so we can move to the apartment directly below. He’s been paranoid since Rosalind’s sister visited and acted like she was going to call the police.

I could ask why he didn’t just tell that girl he last saw Rosalind at the club, but I’m too caught up by his admission.

He finds me captivating. Perfect. He wants to protect me with his life. My heart flutters a thousand times a second. It feels like I’m living in the epilogue of a fairy tale where the hero helps the damsel get revenge on all the villains.

Packing only takes a few minutes and before I know it, Leroi is escorting me to the apartment containing all the gym equipment. As I walk around the machines’ perimeter to move my things to the spare bedroom, he places a hand on my shoulder.

“Put your things in the master suite.”

Heat rises to my cheeks, hopeful that he wants me to sleep in his bed.

Strong arms wrap around my middle, and he pulls me into his chest. “I can’t bear the thought of you being in another room.” he growls in my ear. “From now on, you’re with me.”

“Alright,” I whisper, my breath coming in shallow pants.

With an arm around my shoulders, he guides me into a room identical to the one upstairs, with the same gray decor, king-sized bed, walk-in closet, and door that leads to a bathroom.

“Why do you have a replica bedroom?” I ask.

“It pays to take precautions. If that girl sends the police looking for me upstairs, they’ll find an unoccupied apartment. The firm also has properties in other locations across the state.”

“Do you think she will?”

Leroi walks to the window, lowers himself on a brown leather sofa, and pulls me down onto his lap. “That all depends on if Rosalind is still with my cousin.”

I nod, remembering Leroi talking to some dark-haired men at the club who looked a little similar. He pulls out his phone and sends a text to a man in his contacts called Cesare.

The first one Leroi sends says:

What’s going on with Rosalind?

Three dots appear immediately, but we wait several seconds for Cesare to reply.

You knew and didn’t say???

WTAF?

My brows crease. “What are you talking about?”

He chuckles. “It’s our shorthand.”

Leroi places soft kisses on my neck, distracting me from his phone. Each press of his lips sends tingles across my skin, and I squirm on his lap.

With a groan, Leroi wraps an arm around my waist and traces his fingers over the skin above the waistband of my shorts. I whimper, and he smiles against my neck.

He brushes his hand between my legs, and fire rushes through my skin.

“You like that?” he rasps, his breath hot against my ear. “You like it when I stroke your hungry little pussy?”

“Yes,” I moan, my muscles clenching at the building pressure. “I want more.”

“Greedy girl.”

He continues exploring me over the cotton until he finds my sensitive bundle of nerves. Shivers of pleasure course up and down my spine, and I arch into his fingers with a moan.

“Let me touch it. Let me feel your bare cunt,” he says.

“Oh, god.” I squeeze my eyes shut.

His phone buzzes, but neither of us pay attention to Cesare’s response. Instead, Leroi’s fingers move off my clothed clit to where the hem of my shorts gapes open at my inner thigh.

“Seraphine,” he growls, his fingers circling a sensitive spot on my thigh inches away from my crotch. “Let me in.”

“Please.”

He slides his fingers beneath the fabric to the outer edge of my pussy. My hips jerk, and my legs twitch at the contact.

“So wet. Is that all for me?”

I gulp. “Y-yes.”

“You’re such a good girl. Always so ready for my fingers or cock.”

Leroi makes slow, tortuous circles over my clit until my mind goes blank and my eyes roll to the back of my head. His hot mouth travels down the column of my neck with gentle nips and kisses that set my skin alight.

Heat sears into every inch of my flesh, but it’s nothing compared to how he’s turned my core into a molten furnace. I’m so feverish with want that my breath comes in short gasps.

If he stops, I might just bite through his jugular.

Leroi’s erection presses into my ass, and I swear I can feel its veins and ridges. His hips move with shallow thrusts as he rolls my nipple between his thumb and forefinger in time with the circling over my clit.

I’m so close to losing control of my senses. My ears ring, my hips roll in counterpoint to his fingers, and all my limbs go taut.

“Come for me, angel,” he whispers, his fingers gathering speed. “Let me have it all.”

“N-not yet.” I shake my head from side to side, not wanting this to end.

“You have until a count of three or I’ll stop.”

My breath hitches. I’m not ready.

“One,” Leroi growls, his breath warm against my neck.

Oh, fuck.

He increases the pressure, his fingers making up-and-down strokes. The pleasure builds, sharpens, and twists into a tight coil.

“Two.”

I groan, my body trembling with the effort of holding back. I’m clinging to this moment of perfect bliss.

“Two and a half,” he growls. “Now.”

When his fingers tighten around my nipple, my body interprets the sudden pain as the highest form of ecstasy. An orgasm rips through me like a tsunami, sweeping me into an ocean of pure rapture.

“Leroi,” I cry.

The entire room washes away, leaving me panting hard and clinging to Leroi like he’s my lifeboat. He holds me tight as I ride out the waves of pleasure, my body shaking with each delicious ripple.

“You were so beautiful, angel, coming apart in my fingers.”

As I finally come back to reality, I rest my head against Leroi’s shoulder and sigh.

He kisses the top of my head. “Good girl.”

“That was incredible.” I whisper, my heart still pounding with enough force to wake the dead.

Leroi pulls away just enough to look into my eyes. He brushes a strand of hair off my face and gazes down at me with a tenderness that makes my heart soar.

His phone buzzes once more.

With a groan, he gropes around the sofa and picks it up. A second later, his muscles tighten. “Shit.”

“What’s happened?” I ask, my eyes still half-lidded, my mind still drowsy with bliss.

“It’s Rosalind. My cousin took her back home, and she tried to inject him with poison.”

I sit up, my eyes widening. “Wait—what?”

“He knocked her unconscious, opened her purse, and found a bunch of syringes. He used her Face ID to open her phone and found pictures of the Montesano brothers. And me.”

My breath catches. “Don’t tell me she’s like me?”

“No,” he mutters. “Rosalind is a paid assassin.”