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His lips rose in a half smile of victory as he fed me the risotto.
Unbidden, I matched his moan when the creamy, savory bite hit my tongue. The arborio rice released its starch, coating my mouth in velvet richness. The porcini mushrooms delivered a punch of umami that made my eyes flutter closed.
He smiled. "Good girl."
The praise slid through me like warm honey. I hated that I craved it, that two simple words from this dangerous man could affect me so thoroughly.
He prepared another bite and held it up.
"I'm perfectly capable of feeding myself." But my protest lacked conviction, even to my own ears.
Once again, he raised one eyebrow, the firelight catching the slight crinkles at the corner of his eye.
With a sigh, I opened my mouth, and he fed me another bite.
The intimacy of the act was more potent than I had anticipated, his focus on my lips making me acutely conscious of every movement, every swallow.
I rubbed my finger under my lips, attracting his gaze to my mouth.
His eyes darkened, pupils dilating.
The tension in the room rose, the only sound the crackling of the fire consuming the logs.
Would it always be this way between us?
Everything a battle to be won?
A relationship built on manipulation games and sex?
Breaking the moment, I rose and fixed my own small plate.
The ceramic was warm against my fingers as I spooned a modest portion of risotto, added an arancini, and selected a few tender pieces of branzino, the lemon and herb flesh flaking under my fork.
We ate in silence, the villa around us creaking and settling like a living thing. Through the window, stars scattered across the night sky, distant and cold.
The moment I finished, exhaustion set in, landing on me with the weight of the day's emotions.
I hadn't even realized it until my head dipped and my grip loosened on my fork, the utensil nearly slipping from my fingers.
Sebastian rose and gently took the plate and fork from my hands.
After setting them aside, he lifted me into his arms and carried me down a narrow hallway. His heart beat steadily against my ear, a rhythm I could too easily sync with my own.
"Where are you taking me?" My words slurred with fatigue.
"To bed."
I whimpered, panic spiking through the fog of exhaustion. "Sebastian, I can't…not tonight…not…"
He kissed my forehead, his lips lingering against my skin. "Shhh, little one. Just to sleep."
The bedroom at the villa was just as cozy as the rest of the place.
An intricate wrought iron bed took up most of the space, its scrollwork casting lace-like shadows on the whitewashed walls. It was stacked high with pillows and a beautiful quilt. In the corner stood a black iron stove with a small fire in it, its glow bathing the room in amber light.
Sebastian had already pulled the covers down, the sheets the color of fresh cream.
He placed me on the edge of the bed. "Arms up."
