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I shuddered and closed my eyes, swallowing against the nausea that turned my stomach. Luca had promised to take care of me, too, but he wasn’t here to save me.
I was utterly alone, completely at the mercy of the most monstrous man I’d ever encountered. Luca would come for me, but I wasn’t sure how much of my soul would be intact by the time he came to my rescue.
Chapter 14
Nora
Ipushed the scrambled eggs around my plate, trying to pretend Dante wasn’t sitting across the table from me. It was easier now that he’d finished his own breakfast and retreated behind his newspaper. My composed mask was nearly perfect, only the slightest tension around my mouth straining the serene smile. It’d taken more willpower than I’d known I possessed, but I’d managed to hold myself together for nearly an hour so far this morning, ever since I’d awakened to find myself in his bed, caged in his confining embrace.
I’d nearly railed at Dante when he’d shown me the scraps of lace that he expected me to wear for him: lingerie and silken robes that were so scandalous I would feel less exposed if I were completely naked. The garments were clearly expensive but unbearably lewd. He was dressing me up like a sex doll, his little toy.
Or worse, hispet.He’d called me that several times last night, especially when he’d bathed me, washing the dirt from my skin. I’d been too numb with shock and revulsion to respond in any way. True to his word, he hadn’t forced himself on me or seen to his own physical pleasure.
Although the sick delight in his eyes was far more disturbing than simple lustful release.
I dared to peek up at him through lowered lashes and huffed the tiniest sigh of relief to see only the open newspaper facing me, completely obscuring his cruelly beautiful features. I straightened my posture and cut my sausage into even smaller pieces, making the food look like I’d picked at it.
As I took calming, steady breaths, I sank deeper into my poise and composure, letting it settle over me like protective armor. If Dante wanted a pretty doll, I would give him one. He wouldn’t break me down again. If he tried to play with me, I would simply refuse to rise to his bait. He couldn’t eviscerate me if I didn’t give him access to my true self.
“You’re not eating.” The newspaper rustled and dropped away. His vibrant eyes skewered me, spearing straight through my elegant mask.
I blinked and forced my lips to remain pleasantly curved, my gaze soft and demure. “I’m not very hungry this morning.”
His brows drew together, forbidding. “I don’t care if you’re not hungry. You will eat.”
Indignation sparked, and unease stirred in my gut. I struggled to remain nonchalant and speared the smallest scrap of scrambled eggs onto my fork. I expected him to go back to his paper, but his attention remained fixed on me as I consumed the tiny morsel. It felt like rubber between my teeth, and I almost gagged as I choked it down.
My fingers trembled with rage, so I tightened my hold on my fork. I couldn’t let him see how much this tense power play was riling me. If I looked docile, he would go back to ignoring me. He would stop monitoring my food intake.
“Nora.” My name was a condemnation. “I expect you to eat every bite, or there will be consequences.”
All my muscles tensed, and I spoke before I could lock the words behind smiling lips. “I’m not hungry,” I snapped.
It wasn’t true. My stomach ached with hunger, but the pain of it centered me. It was my choice, my body. This was one of my most familiar and reliable mechanisms for control, and he wanted to rip it away from me.
His movements were deceptively casual as he flipped his newspaper closed and folded it, rolling it up into a tight tube in his fist. His knuckles stood out sharply, the veins on the back of his hand visible. So much power in that single fist, a clear threat despite his calm demeanor.
Gracefully, he got to his feet and strolled around the dining table, keeping me fixed in his incisive emerald stare. My soft smile melted away, but I managed to maintain my stiff posture in my seat.
He stopped when he edged into my personal space, looming over me. His head cocked to the side, a single dark brow raised. “I’ll give you one chance to be honest with me.” His voice was impossibly deep and forbidding. I suppressed a shiver. “Are you not eating because you’re anxious this morning, or is this something you always do?”
My stomach flipped. He knew.
How could he know? No one had ever noticed before, not even Giana.
I swallowed. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He clicked his tongue at me. “Wrong answer, little bird.”
He lashed out, and I tried to dodge the worst of the blow to my face. But it didn’t come. Instead of slapping me, his fingers twined in my hair, sinking deep into the heavy locks. He pulled, lighting up my scalp with sparks that edged toward pain. I had no choice but to move where he guided me, forced to shift off my chair and bend over the table beside my full plate.
I thrashed, but his big hand bracketed the back of my skull, pressing my cheek hard against the polished mahogany dining table. Before I could gasp out a protest, he flipped up the hem of my short black lace robe. He’d only given me a scrap of fabric for matching underwear, and cool air kissed my bare skin.
A rush of heat immediately flared on my chilled flesh, accompanied by a sharpsmack. Stinging pain bloomed where he’d struck me, and I shrieked in impotent rage when I noted the rolled-up newspaper in his fist. Humiliation burned my insides, but he didn’t relent. He struck again, ignoring my screams as he hit my bottom with searing swats. The sting morphed into a deep throb, driving the heated pain deeper with each repeated smack. My bottom was on fire, and something terrible thrummed between my legs, echoing the thudding hits.
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to breathe through the awful sensations, my screams dissipating as I struggled for control.
He pushed his hips against my ass, pinning me against the edge of the table. The wood pressed into my clit, and it pulsed madly at the harsh stimulation through the barely-there panties. I felt his erection, but he made no move to free his cock and drive into my vulnerable body. Keeping me trapped in place, he tugged at my hair to forcibly lift my cheek from the table.
