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“Kneel.” I bared my teeth. “Kneel beside me and open your pretty little mouth.”
Charles chuckled.
Ily stiffened.
With a guarded look, she lowered her chin.
And then…ever so slowly and so damn elegantly, she dropped to her knees and opened wide.
Chapter Twenty
………………………….
Ily
I WANTED TO CLOSE MY eyes.
I didn’t want to watch him unbuckle and unzip. I didn’t want to see all the other bastards leering as Henri took out his cock and forced me to blow him in front of everyone.
Only…no zipper sounded.
No command came.
I looked up and almost choked as a forkful of something rich and creamy speared into my mouth.
I tensed as Henri loomed over me in his white shirt and black slacks. His hair seemed particularly sleek and his cheeks achingly hollow. He looked as if he’d aged a decade since we’d been separated, and I had the unbearable urge to ask what happened.
Why were his eyes haunted?
Why did an aura of loss and pain drag behind him like a cape?
“Eat it,” he demanded in a thunderous baritone.
Obedience flowed through me, followed by self-preservation.
Food.
Glorious, wonderful food.
Wrapping my lips around the tines, I sucked off whatever mouthful he’d fed me and almost melted as flavours exploded on my tongue. Garlic and pepper, caramel and butter. Pea puree with something else. Something deeper and earthier. Truffles perhaps or maybe—
“Open.”
I hastily swallowed and did as he asked.
Another forkful. This one a piece of carrot covered in crunchy batter and salted to perfection.
He never looked away as I chewed, his attention locked onto my lips. “As long as there’s something inside your mouth, I can’t put what I really want in there.”
My heart lurched. My entire body sparked dangerously alive.
Bending over me, he whispered, “Watching you eat what I give you? Merde, I wasn’t prepared for the fucking rush of feeding you. I feel as if I’m—”
“Henri, there you go with the whispers again.” Victor’s snide voice sounded far too close.
I cursed him.
What was Henri about to confess? Feeding me made him feel what?
