Page 96 of The Mafia Assassin's Redemption-

She nods and walks away.

Madame Gaia rases her brow. “Which place?”

“Tinder Box.”

“Kinky.” But she just moves through the room, perusing the racks. Down on the lowest level are the fetishist’s things, but those aren’t the ones for me.

I can fuck without the trappings of a relationship, with just a little control, but I do like my kink. I like to indulge and… Fuck. Harry’s the first person in a long time that I’m interested in more messy endeavors. Things that don’t slide easily into my kink.

Like kissing her. Like acting on these fucking crazy feelings that are constantly swirling.

Rough sex, wild sex, sex that’s a coming together.

Holding her in the shower.

But I don’t want to read into any of that.

She’s mine, yes.

But when she’s safe, I’ll make sure she runs. Far away.

Because Harry deserves a life.

If I can let her go.

“Should I be concerned? That look on your face is pure obsession, Torin.”

“I’m not obsessed.”

She looks like she’s going to say something else but instead, she hands me shoes, silk panties and bras, some ties, and other girly shit. Notone piece of latex.

I know why I want latex. That separation, the thing that says all of this is a game.

But Gaia’s right. The things she’s chosen are perfection.

I still make my way along the racks, selecting leather and yes, some latex, just in case I need that separation. Then I stop at the stockings. I pick some out in dark colors, sheer black with a thin pencil line down the back of each leg.

“She’s pretty, and she’s innocent. Play that up,” Gaia says from where she stands over a glass case of collars.

One catches my eye. A choker with diamonds, and I don’t need to know if they’re real. Gaia’s husband creates beautiful works of art for the Dom and the sub. “That one.”

She doesn’t say a word as she selects it and hands it to me. The delicate nature hides the way I can tighten it, the little nubs on the inside that will rub against her skin when she wears it, to remind her she’s owned.

Blood marriage, indeed.

Then I walk over to the whips hanging on the wall. I wanted to get some new ones, things that’ll please and displease Harry to ecstatic heights, make her cry with the bite of the leather or the tease of it that sends her over the edge.

My eyes land on a heavy-duty one. I take it off the wall and crack it through the air. Even Gaia flinches.

I hold out my wrist and bring it down again. Too thick and it doesn’t do its job. Too thin and it can be dangerous when wielded by someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing.

It bites hard. Leaves a line that welts.

“Perfect.”

It’s still something that isn’t going to be easy to wield, but I want it.

“Careful,” Gaia says, “that’s advanced for someone like her.”