Page 76 of Lourdes & the Mafia
“Um…” She shifts, rubbing her thick thighs together.
I fight back a groan and the urge to press my fingers against her to give her release.
There will be time for that later.
“I guess I’ll leave. I don’t have the energy to talk to any more of your… contacts. But I want updates.”
Understandable.
She does not want to see our methods of interrogation just yet. Though I will be honest about this later.
Leon is a bastard.
“Kane, take her wherever she wants to go. Lorenzo and I will go find out what we can.”
I watch them leave. It’s only when they’re gone that I drop the veil of magic that was shielding her from what was really in the room.
Leon. Tied to a chair. Blood dripping down his face.
He groans, spitting teeth onto the floor and staring at me with hatred in his eyes.
He’s missing an ear, the work sloppy, the flesh mangled.
“Sorry about that,” I apologize. “I am not Kane, you see. I am not the King of Torture, so my work might not be as prettily done as his.”
He tries to scream, but my magic holds his voice captive.
Lorenzo grunts but otherwise doesn’t comment. Torture has never been his strong suit; he says it bores him. But he wanted to be present for this.
“Now…” I prowl forward, bending so I’m at his level. “Where were we?”
Kane
“Canwegooutsidefor some air?” She screams the words near my ear, and I feel the whisper of her touch. A teasing hint of it, the kind that makes me crave the real thing.
I must be out of my fucking mind to want that, knowing what happens when our skin comes in contact.
No, it’s not that I must be. It’s that I am out of my fucking mind. For entertaining an insane fucking idea that we will have something.
Something that will obviously be different than what she has with my brothers. At least she tolerates them.
She hates me. The feeling is mutual. But it’s obvious she craves the lack of control being tied up will give her.
I assume it has something to do with that asshole strung up in The Pit. He used her and she hates him. She hates me with equal fervor and will use me to get the closure she likely never did with him.
She will allow me to tie her up, to punish her in the way I want to.
Maybe it will be as cathartic for me as it will be for her.
I’ll be able to touch her in whatever fucking capacity I’m allowed. That will make me feel more in control. I will punish her for blasting me across rooms. I will let her suffer for things that appear out of my control because she deserves it.
And I, like her, will get the release I desperately crave. In whatever form I can.
My eyes scan the club as we make our way to the front. It has somehow filled with more people than it had when we first got here and she pushes her way through the crowd.
Eyes trail after her, hungry gazes watching the sway of her hips. A growl rips through me and I let a glamor fall over us both, distorting our images so they cannot make out her features clearly.
It is a perfect little trick for privacy.
