Page 27 of The Mafia Assassin’s Redemption (Mafia Obsession #2)

TWENTY

harry

We don’t stay long at the church. Father Luigi tells me to lay low with my husband for a while. Just to be on the safe side.

“You shouldn’t have run off,” Declan says, handing me Arnold’s leash once we leave. “See? He likes you. He has good taste, as does Clawzilla.”

From behind him comes a meow.

“I said you have good taste.” His smile doesn’t slip as he glances at me and adds, “Torin’s trying to keep you safe. We all are.”

“I’m not a prisoner.”

“But you’re lucky Francis had only gone to the bathroom and then notified Cal immediately that you left the house. Or else shit could have gotten real ugly.”

The gun to my head and the cold darkness aimed at the gunman from Torin play over me and I shiver, stomach turning. “I have a job,” I say.

“So do we… It’s to keep you safe.”

He says that with such utter innocence I almost smile. Almost because I know they’re all brutal. And I know Torin’s a killer.

Thank God… The words whisper in my blood as we arrive back at the brownstone. Declan slides the cat carrier off his back and hands it to me. He moves close behind me until a big, burly man opens the door, his suspicious gaze sweeping the street.

For once I don’t feel like a prisoner. I’m protected.

“Do you want to play Cards Against Humanity?” Dec asks as he takes the carrier the moment the door shuts and we’re in the foyer.

He releases Clawzilla, who stretches in such a way that would make an entire yoga class green with envy.

I unclip Arnold’s leash. He barks and then takes off with the cat. Seconds later, I hear a shriek of laughter from Lucie.

“No, I’m good,” I say, wanting to scrub my skin, wanting to curl into a ball, wanting to… beat something.

But Declan looks at his phone and only half nods.

So I make my way down to the bedroom suite.

I’m not sure what to do. Usually I’d be at the church, doing paperwork after flower duty…

not that it’s duty at all. But I need something to do to keep myself busy.

I begin tidying up the place even though it’s my things that are scattered…

the bags of clothes I bought that I haven’t hung up because this is Torin’s space and I hate him.

A sob almost breaks free.

How do you hate someone the way you have for twelve years when they keep saving you? When their touch makes you burn? When they no longer fit the image you clung to for so long?

What the hell do you do with that?

I open what looks like a recessed closet, and I’m shocked to see the stairs. With a deep breath, I head down to investigate.

“The basement. Where all the main computer equipment is. Where I keep all my deviant toys.”

At his voice, a shiver of erotic fire moves through my veins. I swallow a gasp.

“You torture women down there?”

I don’t want to turn because with that excitement is fear. Fear at what I’m becoming. Fear for him and that bleakness in his voice.

“Hell no, I take them to the club.”

I turn, follow him back up to the bedroom, drop the things in my arms, and take him in my arms.

He’s so damn handsome. The facial scruff’s grown in. The tattoos peeking out of his T-shirt make my fingers itch to touch them, to trail over them. Feel his heat, the solidness of him.

And my feet squeeze tight in my shoes.

I want…

I want him.

That’s the ugly, beautiful truth.

I want him.

Suddenly, I notice the red spray on his shirt, his neck, blood literally on his hands.

“Not mine.”

I swallow. “T-that man… is he?—?”

“Dead. The fucker’s dead. And yes, I killed him.

And I liked it. What a fucking monster you married.

” Torin looks at me, eyes glittering and hard, his mouth a grim line.

“Maybe that’s why you were such an idiot, kicking a man with a gun to your head.

Maybe you were hoping he’d just kill you, put you out of your misery. ”

“Are you drunk?”

“Stone-cold sober, Harry.”

“No… of course not. I wasn’t hoping that at all.”

Torin pushes me back into the wall. I can’t breathe. He’s pressed against me, hard and hot, and my senses go haywire. “Or maybe,” he says, stroking a finger over my lips, “you just hoped he’d turn and shoot me.”

“That’s a pleasure I’ll have for myself,” I snap.

He kisses me hard, and it’s hot, bitter, divine. When he lifts his head, I’m rasping, wet, aching, and I don’t know why.

“Old-fashioned, are you? Not interested in farming out the jobs.”

“Torin, I?—”

“Don’t. Don’t be sweet. Don’t be fucking sweet. I almost failed you again, didn’t I?” Then he rips himself away, stalks across the room, and turns around.

That utter despair cracks something in me, and with shaking fingers, I start to push my dress off. I want to hate him, to burrow back into that snug groove of disgust and passion, not hate this man who’s full of some kind of anguish I don’t understand.

“What are you doing?” he asks softly.

“I’m… I’m not sure.”

He stalks back toward me and slips his hands into the top of the dress. He grips the fabric tight. “You want a little blood on you, taste death vicariously through me?”

“Don’t, Torin… I think I’m spinning. I don’t know what to do anymore. But I…”

Torin stares at me a long time. “Get on your knees.”

I lower myself down, my knees buckling. The moment I hit the floor, a strange wave of relief hits me. I don’t know if this is how the sex games are played, but down here, obeying him, soothes something in me, and the heat between my thighs intensifies. So does the throb in my clit.

Down here, I’m at his mercy. I’m his in the most uncomplicated way, and I need that simplicity.

It doesn’t have to be forever. Just for now. And that’s enough.

“I worry…” The words spill out but the about you sticks.

“Don’t ever waste that on me. Like you worked out years ago, I’m a bad man. A killer. I killed someone.”

He doesn’t ask, but I touch his jeans. Torin hisses in a breath.

“For me.”

“You want to do something? Open your pretty mouth.”

A thrill races through my blood and everything spirals down into the moment.

I slowly open my mouth.

He unbuttons his jeans, and his hard, erect cock bounces free.

My mouth salivates at the sight because I want this. I want to make him come and feel intense pleasure. And the fact that he’s allowing me to undo him with my mouth and tongue makes me insanely hot.

He pushes into my mouth, and I try my best to take all of him. Torin’s so big and he fills my mouth. His groan of pleasure makes me wetter, like I’m pleasing him, like this is all that matters in the world.

His cock hits the back of my throat, and I almost gag. Torin grips my hair, holding me there, making me choke and gag and sputter, and thrills sing like lightning through my blood.

I don’t care that I can barely breathe, that drool and wetness spool out of the corners of my mouth as I struggle to hold him there, struggle to take him deeper. My pussy responds with beats of wild pleasure, and my panties are soaked in seconds.

He grabs my head and pulls it back. “I could fuck your throat like a cunt, it’s so fucking unbelievable, and I don’t even care if you can breathe. ”

My blood thrums hard, morphing into flames of insatiable desire.

He strokes my cheek as I gulp in air.

“Tell me,” he says softly, “that you hate me.”

A beat of need passes through me, deep. “I despise you.”

He fucks my mouth more… pushing in, withdrawing, and then shoving all the way in to hold me there, once again, gagging, swallowing frantically over the tip of his cock.

A sob rises in my chest, breaking free like a moan as he pulls out once more.

“Yet you want me, just as much as I want you.” His eyes are like the cold depths of space and they sear my soul. He grabs me, fucking my mouth hard until he comes, hot cum spurting down my throat.

It’s an orgasmic moment as I swallow him down, sucking on him as best I can, not wanting to miss a drop.

But Torin’s as gone as me in this moment, and he drags me up, throwing me to the bed as he claws off my panties.

He looks down. “So fucking wet. You hate me, you want me dead, but I think you just might want me more.”

I can’t speak as he strokes over me, parting my pussy lips but not entering me. He then wraps his lips around my clit. It’s sublime and so dirty, a thing of such pleasure I might lose my mind from the crash of euphoria that consumes me.

He goes slow, sucking softly, and then he builds the pressure, his tongue pushing against that sensitive bud, and as I start to orgasm, he lifts his head and blows on me, spiraling me into want and need and insanity.

“I’m going to destroy you,” he says, the words filtering through my haze. “I won’t mean to. And you’ll destroy me, too.”

Then he goes down again, sucking me until I explode. Pleasure engulfs me, drags me into the waters that lap and swirl over me.

When I come down, he’s already stripping down, heading to the bathroom. I follow like a puppy.

“What was all that?”

He doesn’t look at me as he climbs in the shower. “What was what?”

“Everything you just said to me.”

“The truth.”

My legs buckle. He swears and pushes open the glass door, wraps a hand around my arm, and pulls me into the shower. The hot needles of water fall on us and his bodywash smells like the devil is out to seduce. Or maybe the seduction is him, I don’t know.

Torin cups my face and kisses me, and I don’t even notice he’s stripped me of my dress and bra until my naked flesh meets his.

It’s a kiss of false romance, one with a shattered heart in the middle. His? Mine? I don’t know. Maybe a bit of both. But I kiss him back, the gentle savagery of it soothing, and if someone asked me in this second what I wanted, I wouldn’t be able to tell them.

Or maybe this is similar to when he has me on my knees, when he spanks me or ties me up. It’s a moment out of time, and I just exist within it.

I relax as he slowly breaks the kiss, sprinkling my wet skin with tiny ones until he’s just holding me in the water.

“Turn,” he whispers against my ear as he starts to wash me. There’s a sensual element to the way the sponge moves over my skin, between my thighs, over my breasts, stomach, and the back of my neck.

I’m on edge, on a precipice, a slow throbbing inside that’s like he’s both taunting me and soothing me .

I think it’s me.

For all my confused feelings, he’s right.

I want him.

I hate him, I might be half in love with him, and I want him.

I stand, not moving, and then I quietly slip out of the shower.

What the hell do I do with that? What?

Torin doesn’t look at me as he dresses all in black and heads down the stairs. And I’m fine with that.

I swallow. This is some kind of Stockholm syndrome shit. Some kind of weird-ass thing that isn’t real. Because someone almost killed me. Because Torin saved me, helped me with the flowers like he knew I just needed someone there. Like…

“Like you’ve lost your mind.”

But still, those feelings, bundled and tangled and complicated, remain.

The footsteps on the stairs from the basement hook into me and I stand up from the sofa, waiting… I don’t even know what for. Him?

“I have to do something,” he mutters, and I wait for more. “But you still need to be punished. So I’m going to take you out to really show you what sub life is.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m taking you shopping, getting you an outfit, and then we’re going to indulge in some sex play.”

I back away. “We just did.”

He grins, and it’s a devious lift of his lips that makes my knees wobble.

“No. That was foreplay. I want to punish you for today. Maybe reward you, too. See what a good brat you are, and if you’re a better sub.

And I want to get some information. Kill two birds. What do you say? Up for an adventure?”