LEROI
I navigate the twisting roads of Alderney Hill, gripping the steering wheel tightly enough to wear out its leather. What I thought would be a simple massacre to save my cousin from death row is turning out to be a complicated web of twists and betrayals.
Killing Frederic Capello when I did only slowed down a conspiracy to assassinate Benito, Cesare, and everyone else who’s loyal to the Montesano brothers, including myself.
The thought that Rosalind got close to me to gather intel on my extended family is maddening. I didn’t even see her coming. Everything about her screamed that she was just a clingy sub.
Seraphine’s stare burns the side of my face.
She wants explanations, but I don’t have the heart to tell her that the wild woman who was smashing up the Montesano heirlooms is Capello’s illegitimate daughter related by blood. I’m still trying to figure out how to break the news that the creepy handler who twisted her into a serial killer is my father figure.
My jaw clenches. This is a shit storm.
“What are you thinking?” she asks.
“We need to speed up the schedule,” I mutter. “If this hit on the Montesano family doesn’t get canceled, we’re all screwed.”
“You’re tense.”
I snort. “You think?”
Her hand slides over my thigh, but the touch is far from soothing. As her fingers make a slow ascent toward my crotch, all sensation rushes to my second brain.
“What are you doing?” I ask, trying to focus on the sharp angle ahead that leads to a steep drop.
“You think too much. I want to help.”
Seraphine’s fingers slide over my hardening cock to my zipper. Forcing my attention back onto the road, I exhale a shaky breath.
“And you think too little,” I reply.
Seraphine pulls down the zipper. My stomach clenches, and I suck in a sharp breath. I should tell her to stop, but I’m torn between the danger of distraction and the promise of pleasure.
Her fingers slide into my fly, her blunt nails grazing my expanding shaft. Adrenaline courses through my veins and anticipation tightens my balls as she grips me by the root and pumps.
Fuck.
“I don’t understand why you’re so stressed,” she replies. “Roman will pick up Rosalind’s sister and get the information he needs to stop the assassins.”
“It’s not that simple,” I reply with a groan. “If Rosalind holds out—”
“She won’t.”
I want to squeeze my eyes shut, savor her gentle strokes, but a truck barreling around the bend sends my mind crashing back to the road.
“How can you be so sure Rosalind will talk?” I ask.
“I overheard how worried Miranda was when Rosalind didn’t come home. If Rosalind loves her sister as much as she loves her, then she’ll give Roman and Cesare the information they need.”
She strokes the pad of her thumb over my slit and smears precum across my crown.
My hips jerk, and I clench my teeth. “Maybe.”
“No doubt about it,” she says, her hand making twisting movements over my cock head. “I could have escaped the twins any time. The only thing that kept me staying was Gabriel.”
The momentary reminder of how those bastards fooled her into remaining their prisoner makes me deflate. Her fingers close in around my shaft like a vise, and she punctuates each word with a powerful tug. Electricity zips up and down my spine. I glance toward the passenger seat to check that she’s alright, but her eyes are closed.
“If I’d known Dad was using Gabriel as his regenerating liver bank, I would have escaped,” she snarls through clenched teeth. “Mom was already dead, and so was Nanna. All I had left was my brother, and I had no idea Dad was invested in keeping him alive.”
“Seraphine,” I say with a gasp. “Slow down.”
Pain and pleasure mingle with an impending sense of alarm as I navigate a hairpin turn. Sweat breaks out across my brow, my palms, the soles of my feet. She’s so lost in her resentment that she doesn’t hear my warnings to stop.
Shit.
Only Seraphine could combine handjobs with horror.
I lose track of what she’s saying. It’s a maelstrom of words and memories and murder.
“Seraphine,” I say, my voice strained. “Calm down. Take a deep breath. You’re safe now.”
She pours all her pent-up rage into her ministrations, and my poor cock doesn’t know whether to shrivel or spurt. Her hand moves faster and faster around my shaft, and I can barely keep my eyes on the road.
At this rate, she’s going to get us both killed.
I make another sharp turn, nearly clipping the side mirror as she continues the sweet torture. Her soft hand combined with the angry strokes are pushing me toward a dangerous precipice. Literally.
An orgasm builds up in my balls, and I’m seconds away from losing control. I clench my jaw, trying to keep it together, trying to stop myself from exploding across the dashboard.
“I’m not your enemy,” I yell over her words.
Sweat prickles across my forehead and my breath comes in short pants. No matter what I say, Seraphine shows no signs of slowing down.
The engine roars as I round another bend and I have to swerve around an asshole speeding toward us. Adrenaline punches me in the gut and the fine hairs on the back of my hair stand on end.
“Seraphine,” I bark. “Listen to me. We’ll crash if you don’t slow down!”
This handjob from hell has gone too far.
I grab her wrist, but this only makes the situation worse. Her grip tightens, with blunt nails digging into my sensitive flesh. Lightning strikes my every nerve, charging up my senses with liquid fire. We’re going to crash, and she’s going to die before she even completes her revenge.
Tingles spread across my groin with an intensity that turns my vision white. I slam on the brakes, and scream, only it’s too late. I swerve, but the bumper hits something solid and detonates the airbags.
Seraphine doesn’t react but continues to pump the life force out of my shaft, making me lose energy at an exponential rate. My cock pulses, throbs, and convulses to the beat of my frantic heart. I spurt once into the airbags, twice, three, four times, and then I lose count.
Seraphine continues milking me until my soul flees my body and every ounce of cum escapes my balls until I’m gasping and groaning with every stroke.
“Feel better?” her voice cuts through my post-orgasmic cardiac arrest.
I crack open an eye and glare at her through a cloud of airbag dust.
She stares up at me through those wide, innocent eyes, not looking like she almost just killed me with her hand.
My head rolls back. I’m still panting so hard that it takes several heartbeats to form words. “As soon as I’ve caught my breath, you’re going to get punished.”
Her cheeks turn pink. “Okay.”
Okay?
My eyes narrow. It almost looks like Seraphine nearly got us killed on purpose to earn a punishment. I’m going to spank that ass so raw she’ll be sleeping on her belly for a week.
