Taming Seraphine

LEROI

I sit on the edge of the mattress, watching Seraphine sleep. Her eyes were drooping by the time Don’s clean-up crew arrived to wrap up Mike Ferrante’s corpse, place it in their chest freezer, and carry the appliance away. I drove her to the downstairs apartment and tucked her in bed.

Moonlight shines in from the open window, making her pale blonde lashes glow. After everything that’s happened in the space of twenty-four hours and beyond, she somehow manages to look peaceful.

It was a long day for both of us, and I couldn’t stop thinking about whether it was time to find another location. I sent a text to Cesare to check on his progress with Rosalind, but I’m still waiting for him to reply.

I’m haunted by several things she revealed about her captivity and can’t shake off the instinct that I could have done more to help. Anton might have dropped a clue that I missed or Miko and I could have planned the Capello Massacre faster, so I could reach Seraphine earlier.

The thought of her trapped in that basement makes me want to do something, anything, to ease her pain. If I can’t hand her Gabriel on a platter, then maybe I can do something else.

After telling Miko to expand his searches on Capello’s liver surgery to hospitals in Mexico, it takes him no time to find the fake profile he used in his previous transplant. The name given for the live donor is Gabe Jenkins, but the blood type, date of birth, and all other details match the donor profile from four years ago.

So now we have a possible alias for Seraphine’s brother.

Gabriel has to be alive somewhere. There has to be prescription records or medical bills somewhere that will give us a clue to his location. It’s only a matter of time before we reunite Seraphine with her brother.

After placing a kiss on her cheek, I leave the room to make a few phone calls and set up the apartment next door. Tomorrow’s going to be another eventful day.

Hours later, the first thing I’m aware of when I awaken are soft hands roaming over my chest. I inhale the scent of strawberries and open my eyes to find Seraphine leaning over me with a mischievous grin.

“I’ve been trying to wake you for hours.” She presses her lips against mine.

I run a hand through my hair. “I went to bed late.”

“What were you doing?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Her eyes sparkle. “Tell me.”

“Watching you sleep,” I say with a smirk.

“What else?” Her hands travel down my abs, which tighten under her touch, and she trails feather-light kisses on my skin.

As she slides her hand beneath the waistband of my pajama pants, my breath quickens, and my mind rifles through images of the cocks Seraphine has terrorized. Billy Blue’s getting sliced into sashimi, Rochas getting drilled through the middle, and Ferrante’s that she nailed to his thigh. That’s not even counting the ones I didn’t witness.

“What are you doing?” I rasp.

“I’m just touching it.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s mine, and I want to feel you.” She leans in and whispers in my ear. “Let me play with it, please?”

“Behave yourself.”

She chuckles. “It’s so long and thick and veiny. I can’t resist it.”

Fuck. I’m not the type of man to make a woman beg to touch his cock. Scratch that, I am. But this is Seraphine. The last time she got this close to it, I crashed the car. The time before that, she was holding a knife to my balls.

“What else are you planning on doing with my cock?” I ask.

She wraps her fingers around the base of my shaft. “Maybe take it for a ride?”

I fling an arm over my eyes and groan. “Fuck.”

Seraphine tightens her grip and runs the flat of her tongue up the length of my shaft. The way her path meanders tells me she’s tracing one of its veins. When she reaches the head, she circles it with her tongue, and my balls tighten.

As much as I want this to continue, coming so soon would ruin Seraphine’s surprise. I spent half the night setting up something to make her smile.

“You said you wanted the nipple clamps,” I say between panting breaths.

She pauses, mid lick. “Where are they?”

“Come with me.”

She gives my cock head a parting lick before releasing it and sitting back on her heels. With a groan, I ease my erection back into my pajama pants and pull myself up.

Seraphine is a picture of blonde debauchery. Her blue eyes are dark with desire. A flush blooms her cheeks as she pants through her parted lips. Sunlight filters through her golden hair, illuminating its ends like a halo of spun gold. My gaze drifts down her pink nightshirt to the erect nipples that are begging for the clamps.

I rise off the bed and offer her my hand. “Come on.”

At this time of the morning, most of the neighbors have already gone to work, so I don’t bother with dressing gowns as we walk to the studio apartment next door.

I open the door and let her in first. She takes one step inside and stops abruptly with a loud gasp.

“Leroi.” She whirls around, placing both hands on my chest. “What is this?”

Her eyes sparkle with delight, and the flush on her cheeks darkens to a delicious shade of red. My heart warms at her excitement, and I turn her around. “Go inside and take a closer look.”

Squealing, Seraphine rushes to the right side of the room, where a four-tier chocolate fountain rumbles on a table, surrounded by an array of fruits and small snacks. On the table, far away from the fountain, are Belgian waffles on a plate and coffee. Next to them is a brand new notebook, one pack of assorted felt-tip pens, and another pack containing varying shades of red.

“Oh, my god.” She whirls around with a smile so broad I can’t help but return it. “Is this all for me?”

I nod. “You dreamed of having a chocolate fountain. Maybe seeing it will show your subconscious that you’re free.”

Her breath catches. “But you said you hate chocolate. You’re allergic.”

“All true,” I say, my gaze softening. “But it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

I send a silent word of thanks to the twenty-four-hour drugstore for delivering a large quantity of antihistamines before the all-day bakery filled the studio with the rich scent of theobromine.

“How did you arrange it so quickly?”

“That’s why I went to bed so late.” I walk across the studio and take her hand. “Come on. You need to see the rest.”

“But what about the chocolate?” She glances over her shoulder at the fountain.

“Did you think I’d let you gorge yourself on poison without earning the privilege?” I take her to the leather bondage table on the other side of the room.

Seraphine clasps both hands on her cheeks. I’m surprised she didn’t notice this before, but that’s a testament to the lure of chocolate.

She gapes at a table. It has a leather backrest that can be laid flat or slanted. Its seat is U-shaped, allowing access to the cunt and asshole with adjustable leather stirrups on either side. My cock stirs at the image of Seraphine strapped to the device and pleasured to within an inch of her sanity.

“This is incredible,” she says, her voice breathy with awe. “How did you know I liked it?”

“You and the sales clerk spent a lot of time admiring this beauty.” I place a hand on her shoulder. “Take a closer look.”

Seraphine walks to the table and trails her fingertips over its smooth leather surfaces. “I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

I press a kiss on her temple. “You’re worth it, and this is only the beginning. Now, take off that nightshirt and get on your knees.”