“You don’t seem to be enjoying your pizza as much as the caprese,” Cam said, his focus shifting from my mouth to my eyes while he spoke. “Does it taste all right?”
It tastes fine,I thought.But I’m rather distracted at the moment thinking about how to fix you and not all that concerned with the food as a result.
But I couldn’t say that.
So once I finished swallowing, I gave him another truth. “It’s a little dry, but it’s otherwise okay.” It had probably been in the oven a little too long, or perhaps hadn’t been in the right type of oven. Which was a shame, considering we were in Italy, but we were also somewhere underground and I had no idea where they’d prepared all this food.
He considered me for a moment. Then he reached for my plate and swapped it with the caprese, setting the appetizer directly in front of me and the Margherita in the center beside the bruschetta. “Finish eating that instead. I prefer your moans over silence.”
My lips threatened to curl at his words, but the dark hunger in his gaze kept me from showing my reaction.
Because he looked ready to devour me.
And I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Or a bit of both.
Rather than lose myself in my thoughts again, I picked up my fork and shifted my attention to the caprese salad. It really was a lot better than the pizza, the flavors bountiful and pure. I could tell good olive oil had been used, as well as a handful of fresh spices.
“Much better,” Cam murmured, his gaze on my mouth.
I hadn’t meant to moan again, but apparently I had. And I didn’t bother to hide my enjoyment as I continued eating, something he seemed pleased by.
When he finished his meal, he simply watched me eat, his pupils flaring with ominous warning. He resembled a predator preparing to pounce on his prey.
Goose bumps trailed down my arms.What will he do after I take this final bite? Make me suck him off for dessert?
I shivered at the thought.
It’d been so long since I’d been properly touched by this man.
Except this wasn’t my Cam at all.
This was a male brainwashed into thinking of me as beneath him. Not his mate, but a blood bag. Which was why he’d bitten me so freely yesterday, allowing me to die.
And why he’d walked in earlier with the intent to fuck me regardless of my mood or willingness.
Did I want to entertain that sort of a man in my bed?
Was it wrong to do so? What wouldmyCam think after his memories returned? Would he feel betrayed?
I swallowed, the caprese feeling heavy in my throat.
That last question had evoked a visceral response deep within me, one that said Camshouldfeel betrayed.
Because the notion of being taken by this version of my mate left me feeling uneasy… but also intrigued.
What would it be like to be touched as though I weren’t breakable? To be taken with the true power of his spirit? To bebitten in places my Cam would never have considered because I was too fragile to accept it?
It was wrong to ponder. Abetrayal. Because this wasn’t my version of Cam. This was… a broken version. A dark figure of the male I’d once loved.
But maybe sex will help him lower his shields.
Intimacy had typically brought us closer together, our minds marrying in the oldest of ways as our bodies consummated our love for one another. It had fed our souls, bolstered our bond, and?—
“Ismerelda.” Cam’s silky tone drew me out of my mind and into the present as he set his empty wine glass on the table. “I’m ready for dessert.”
CHAPTER NINE
CAM
