: Chapter 47
LEROI
What the fuck is she doing? I was looking forward to watching her drill through his heart, but when she started flirting with that bastard, realization sliced through me with a blade.
She’s trying to make me jealous.
This is her response to threatening her about manipulating Miko. I grind my teeth, my eyes narrowing as she runs those delicate little fingers over another man’s shaft.
I pull out my gun.
Paolo Rochas is about to die.
“Seraphine,” I growl.
She ignores me, but I catch a hint of her smirk as she aims the drill at the head of his cock.
My jaw drops. Is she going to—
The drill bit slides into his urethra, tearing apart the flesh. Rochas screams, and the sound goes straight to my balls.
I can’t look away.
As she turns on the motor, my gut twists with horror and my cock fills with arousal. I’ve watched some freaky shit, but the sight of a beautiful woman destroying another man’s junk makes me so hard I’m lightheaded.
My breath quickens, and I’m torn between putting a bullet through the man’s head and tearing into Seraphine.
What the fuck have I unleashed?
I used to think Seraphine was an avenging angel, but she’s a beautiful little devil sent to tempt me into the depths of depravity. And I’ll follow her into all seven circles of hell.
Blood splatters across her face and neck, coating her in crimson, though it doesn’t break her from her euphoric haze. She fucks the shaft with slow, sensual strokes, using the oozing red liquid as a lubricant. Seraphine is so lost in her pleasure, she doesn’t notice that Rochas has stopped screaming.
The sight of her in her rapture heats my blood with raging desire. It should be me that makes her smile, and gives her this level of ecstasy, not the suffering of that greasy bastard.
His erection is barely deflated by the time she stands, even though blood continues to spurt from the deep cavity that she drilled.
I’m impressed with her precision, even more impressed at how she’s manipulated me to a point beyond reason. After slaying my rival, I cross the room, grab her arm, whirl her around. The blood roaring in my ears drowns out all thought and reason. She’s burrowed so deeply under my skin that I may as well be her puppet.
The thought of losing control ignites a burst of fury, and I kiss her hard and fast. My fingers twine through her hair and twist at the roots with a grip that makes her gasp.
When I break the kiss, she gazes up at me, her pupils so dilated that her irises are tiny rings of blue. The blood spattering across her pretty face makes her look feral and only adds to her allure.
Her lips lift with an unspoken challenge, and every instinct in my soul roars at me to tame this little demon and make her mine. But if I steal a second kiss, I won’t be able to stop.
“I flirted with him,” she says. “What are you going to do about it?”
I should step away, resist her allure, but lust fogs my vision until I no longer see sense.
“Damn it.”
My mouth descends on her parted lips, and I devour her with uncontrollable hunger. I slide my tongue into her welcoming warmth and groan as the drill drops to the concrete floor with a crash.
My one remaining survival instinct that isn’t completely under her spell warns me that she still has the box cutter, but I’m too enraptured by Seraphine to care.
She kisses back, her tongue twisting around mine, her arm clinging so tightly around my neck that I wonder if she’s trying to cut off my air. I lift her off her feet and walk her to the nearest wall.
“Is this what you want?” I growl into her kiss.
“Yes,” she whispers, her legs encircling my waist.
I’m lost in the taste of her on my tongue, in the feel of her body pressed against mine, in the blissful madness of her depravity. I want to own this beautiful creature, tame her, consume her, claim her so deeply that she never wants to touch another man but me.
Seraphine is my drug and I’m ready to overdose.
The box cutter falls to the ground with a clang, and Seraphine grinds her pussy against my aching cock.
“Please,” she whispers.
“Tell me what you want.”
“I need you inside me.”
“Fuck,” I groan.
Her nails dig into my neck, and the pain pushes away the fog of lust. Alarm bells ring through my ears, warning that I’m about to cross a dangerous line behind which I can never retreat.
“Seraphine,” I groan. “I don’t want to be another guy that hurts you.”
“You won’t be,” she says through panting breaths. “I want this. I want you.”
“Fuck. You don’t understand. I’m not right for you. The way I fuck is rough, painful, wild. I can’t promise I won’t get carried away and do something I regret.”
She grabs my face with her bloody hands. “I don’t want gentle,” she says through clenched teeth. “I want you to take me, to make me feel alive. Please. I trust you.”
“Why?” I growl.
“Because you’re strong, you’re intense, and dangerous. You’re the only man I’ve ever wanted. There’s something about you I can’t resist.”
None of those reasons form a viable base for trust, but her words are the spark that ignites the flames of my libido. They flicker and burn through my resistance until I cave into temptation.
I want her exposed and writhing beneath me, but I can’t take off her clothes when I have her pinned to the wall, so I take a step back and set her on her feet.
Slumping against the wall, she stares up at me, her eyes glazed with lust. Her lips are red and swollen, only adding to her deadly allure.
I pick up the box cutter and make tiny slices through the straps of her tank top and down the waistband of her leggings, making sure to cut through her panties. There’s no time to get her naked. I’m too consumed with the need to pound into her sweet pussy.
She pants, her lips curling into a smile that makes my heart roar with triumph.
But it’s not enough.
I want to be the one who makes her face light up with rapture.
I lift Seraphine off her feet again and push her back up against the wall. She grips my shoulders so tightly I know it will leave marks and I don’t care.
Resting the backs of her legs over my forearms, I reach for the hole I made in her panties and rip it open wider. My fingers meet folds so slick with moisture that I can’t help but groan.
“Dirty girl,” I growl into her ear. “Did drilling through that bastard’s shaft get you so wet, or is that arousal for me?”
She trembles. “I kept thinking about you watching me touch him. I wanted to make you mad.”
“It worked.” I nip at her earlobe, and she gasps.
Seraphine likes pain in specific amounts. I could tell that much from the way she reacted to the nipple clamps.
My cock aches, feeling on the verge of exploding, but my protective instincts force me to make sure she’s mentally and physically ready. I rub her clit, making her buck against my hand and moan.
“You like that, don’t you?” I ask, my voice rough. “You like it when I play with your clit?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
“Do you want more?”
“Please,” she whispers and grips my shoulders even tighter as I caress her bud with gentle strokes. Her hips move against my hands, and my nostrils fill with the heady scent of arousal.
My baser instincts scream at me to take her, to bury my cock into her tight heat and fuck her until she’s mine. I rein back those urges, reminding myself that this might be her first time having consensual sex.
Sliding two fingers into her entrance, I trail kisses all along her neck and chest. The pad of my thumb brushes against her clit, making her keen.
“That’s right, angel,” I growl in her ear. “You’re making such pretty noises for me.”
Curling my fingers, I stroke her walls, pushing her higher and higher until her nails are digging into the skin on the back of my neck and she’s panting against my ear.
She wraps her legs around my hips, making my cock push painfully against my fly. It’s desperate, aching, straining to break. I pull down my zipper, and it springs free.
“Is this what you want?” I rasp.
“Yes,” she whispers. “God yes.”
“Remember, you asked for this,” I growl. “If it gets too much, you’re going to use a safe word.”
“Red to stop and yellow to slow down?” she asks through ragged breaths.
It takes a second of me wondering how the fuck she would know something like that until I remember our trip to the Wonderland fetish store. She must have read one of the books the sales clerk convinced her to add to the cart.
“Got it.” I pick up the pace of my strokes, my cock thickening as her walls clench around my digits. When they quiver with the telltale twitches of orgasm, I press my lips against her ear.
“Let go, angel. Come all over my fingers like a good girl.”
Her breath hitches, and her back arches. I circle her clit with my thumb, and within seconds, she’s screaming my name. She convulses and jerks, her pussy closing in around my fingers with tight spasms that force all my blood to rush to my cock.
Shit.
I haven’t even fucked her yet, haven’t claimed her, but in that moment I make a silent vow: I will never let her go.