Page 28 of The Mafia Assassin’s Redemption (Mafia Obsession #2)

TWENTY-ONE

torin

I should just stay home, but I know I can’t.

My basement computer spat up Russian links to our dead John Doe, the guy who was surrounded by all that cocaine.

And that was while it was also scouring the web for dirt on Bianco so I can kill him if need be.

I really don’t care if it doesn’t make sense that he’d wait until now to try and hurt her.

Who the fuck knows if someone pushed him, compromised him, or fed him some missing information.

The man’s my number one suspect.

I ignore the fact that apart from one meeting with the white-collar criminal, he’s kept his fingers out of mafia life and has made an absolute fortune.

Because I need someone to hurt, to punish, to destroy.

But I’ll take the Russians. I’ll see what’s going on at the club, if any of them are there. I know the tattoo symbols now. They’ll be easy to spot.

It’s somewhere to start, at the very least.

And it gives me an excuse to take her to the sex club I’ve wanted to try out with her .

If I can have a crowning jewel moment, I’ll take it erotic, soaked in kink.

Not the way she looks at me now, like I’m not hated, like I’m what she wants.

Like I’m her savior. Her other half.

I’m nothing like that. At all.

I place my hand on Harry’s lower back, ringing the buzzer on the door to the sex shop in the Bowery. There’s no sign announcing what it is. As we enter, the place looks like an art gallery and BDSM clothing shop smashed into one. I say hello to Madame Gaia, the owner, as we pass through.

Harry’s radiating curiosity.

And Gaia looks at her with delight. “Torin,” she says, “pretty little toy.”

“Hands off.”

She laughs and Harry scowls. My wife starts to say something, but I shut her down with a look.

There are rule books if you want to play properly, contracts to sign. I’ve never had any woman long enough to sign a contract. And I’m not into blood play, overt pain, or any of the more extreme levels of the game.

Not usually, anyway.

Shiv and I would play dangerously and viciously.

The comment from the guy I killed comes back and haunts my thoughts. Because I know I’ve missed something. There’s a puzzle piece I’m not seeing or haven’t found.

“…Quinn killed… you took it… Bianco… danger. The girl’s worthless ? —”

It all has me spinning. He mentioned Quinn. It might only be a taunt about how Siobhan died.

Or maybe she had a thing with him. We’d play all kinds of games, and at that age, I was wild. Her fucking someone else then, without my permission, would have gone down in flames.

But now? I’m trying hard to care.

I did love her.

And Harry?

She’s my mission, the job I need to finish. Nothing more.

She can’t be more.

Harry might want me, but it won’t work long term. We’d destroy each other. She’d run again and again. And I’d ultimately end up destroying the thing I’m supposed to save. Her demise would be my fault.

I meant it when I told her to run.

Because right now, I can’t ever see myself letting her go. And I know exactly how our story ends.

“This cloak,” Gaia says, pulling off a long black cloak with a silver lining.

I smile and nod, taking it from her and handing it to Harry. She takes it and lasers a glare at me. “I’ll need shoes and outfits. I haven’t decided what I want yet…”

Gaia can read me well. If I was here alone, like I always am, she’d look at me and take me to the thing I’d need. Ties, paddles, whips. Sometimes nipple and clit clamps, but those are few and far between.

Each woman is a work of art, and in here I can shed the world to indulge in what I need for the night planned.

Tonight, reality drips in. The thoughts of Harry. Of Shiv. That underlying beat of fury I can’t quell. Along with absolute frustration over the fact I can’t work out what’s going on around me and what threads are tying it all together.

But until we get to the club, and until I discover if any of the bratva are there, I won’t be any closer to an answer.

We head down the stairs at the back, descending to the first lower floor. Harry gasps and goes up to one of the many boxes, gingerly touching what’s inside. “You’re bigger,” she whispers, staring at the regular-size dildos.

She’s ready to take off down the aisle to inspect all the toys and butt plugs, but I don’t want that shit. I want one of the top-of-the-line devices, something small that vibrates, with a diamond at the tip. Something that will make her beg for mercy.

I’d only get her a fucking machine so I can play with it, punish her with pushing orgasms or denying them, but in the end, I dismiss it.

Mainly because the only thing I want fucking her is me. Not a machine.

I know, I sound like some kind of Neanderthal.

“Harry.” She stops at my voice, eyes dropping to the floor, right after a flash of defiance, but interestingly enough, there’s no flicker of anger that follows.

I want to chalk that up to me saving her life, but that’s a dangerous assumption. So I settle for the vulnerability factor of having a gun pressed to her head.

She’ll get over it.

I’m her perfect enemy and she knows it. She will cling to it because it’s all she has.

I coil my fingers in her hair and nudge her in the direction of the second lower floor.

Madame Gaia catches my eye. “You’ve got yourself a natural and an innocent there, Torin,” she says, gaze running over me and then Harry. “Careful because I think this one might also have claws.”

“I need something for tonight, and I’ll buy whatever you select. Definitely heels, outfit fitted with easy access.”

“You’ve never bought outfits for a woman before, but I know just the thing you’d like. Unless you want to help. ”

“Harry,” I say softly, “there is a big changing room in the back. I want you to go in there and assume the position.”

Confusion flares as her cheeks flood with pink. I inch toward her and draw her close. “Naked. On your knees. Eyes down, hands on your thighs.”

“But—”

“Harry.”

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. Not one 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.”

Exactly my point, but I shut Gaia down with one look. I continue to browse with Harry on the floor, turned on, angry, hungry, dripping wet for me.

I pick some other items, nice ones, like a paddle that’ll leave a mark and not break the skin the way the heavy one might or cause hard-hitting pain like the thin one. With all these things, the perfect balance is the right one for the sub.

“I’ll take them,” I say.

Then I examine the outfits and pick the one with care that she’ll leave in.

I’m buying them all though, because with each one she tries on, I will touch her, rile her, and lead her to a place where she won’t be able to contain herself.

These things are what I’d like her to wear under her plain clothes.

She’s dressing a little sexier lately, but the shopping trip I made her take was more to annoy and provoke her, not change her style.

I guess it was a slight punishment because if I’m being honest, it pisses me off to see Harry dressed in her shapeless clothes, and it pisses me off even more that it’s Harry who hooks me deep under my skin.

Her in whatever she chooses to wear along with something hot and sexy or kinky underneath revs motors.

Mine.

“But just for now,” I mutter under my breath.

I give Madame Gaia the toys, including a butt plug and a clit stimulator to force orgasms, things I can control to keep her off-balance.

Then I go into the dressing room with the items I want her in.

For a moment, I can’t fucking breathe. “You look absolutely fuckable.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I want you.” I examine the different sets I have and land on one that Gaia chose. Yeah, it’s fucking her. High purple heels she’ll need my support to walk around in, and it’s fantasy fucking city made real.

She takes a breath, not lifting her gaze from the floor, and as I run my gaze along the length of her body, the small drops of wetness between her legs on the floor is a sight almost as perfect as Harry. “Killing for me. Protecting me.”

“You know why.”

“No.”

I almost explain. But I have tried and she can’t, or rather won’t, see it.

Her head is still caught on the horrors of her childhood, ones I’m a part of.

And while I didn’t kill her parents, I just might kill Uncle Anthony if he’s betrayed her, and the bottom line is I’m still guilty, anyway.

Her parents died on my watch. Her uncle might, too.

“That’s for you to work out, Harry.”

I sit and hold out the stockings. She doesn’t lift her gaze, even as she stiffens. I slowly smile.

“Torin, may I look?”

“It should be Master or Sir, but you’re lucky I don’t care about semantics.” From her. “You can look and move and even stand.”

She looks. First. Just a quick head turn to the elegant silk stockings.

“Put them on.”

Her cheeks redden. The color rises from her tits and creeps up the sides of her neck to her face. I think I love it when Harry goes into full bloom like this.

But she stands and snatches the stockings.

“Careful. If you rip them, you’ll be punished.”

She pulls them on. Carefully.

She looks so fucking hot, her now-bare pussy winking at me, moisture on the swollen lips. I hand her the bra top that looks like it covers, but it’s so fucking sheer that the only modest part is the silver that laces over her nipples, from one side of the cup to the other.

Next come the panties. They’re bikini-brief style, slightly puffy, sheer, and this time the lace goes from the top of the panties above her asshole, along her slit, to the top of the panties at the front. Both pieces are adorned with little bows.

I wave her closer and slip the shoes on her feet.

She wobbles in the sky-high heels and grabs me, swaying in close. I take advantage and loosen the bow on her panties, pulling the lace apart a little so I can slide my fingers in and toy with her. I slip them along her wetness and push my fingers into her tight heat.

Harry gasps, then moans, and I pull out, tightening the laces and tying the bow.

I stand slowly and feed my fingers to her. She sucks them like she’s been doing this for years, like it’s just second nature because she’s a fucking pure-born sub.

And I’m so hard it’s going to be agony getting to the club.

I pull out of her mouth, wipe her wetness on her throat, and kiss it. Then I look at her. “Perfect.”

“I… where’s the rest of it?”

She looks around for more clothes.

“That’s it.”

“I can’t walk in these shoes.”

“Exactly.”

I kiss her hard, and then I lead her up the stairs, dressed in almost nothing at all.

And that’s where the real show begins.