The thought makes my heart clench, but I still ease into blackness just the same, ignoring the pain and welcoming what’s to come.
It feels like only seconds have passed when the recognizable beep wakes me, and I turn slowly to face the door. Even the slow movement makes me dizzy, my mind fuzzy and weak.
Gio walks in, and his cold blue eyes are already on me.
I expect an object to be in his hand. He always brings something with him.
I’m right, there’s a peach in his right hand. My mouth waters at the sight. A peach. The deep peach hue with a splash of gold on the side makes it look ripe. I'm sure it's sweet and juicy, and I can imagine the fuzz on my lips and tongue.
I swallow and rip my eyes away from it and stay stiff as he walks to me and crouches in front of the cage. His classically handsome face stares back at me. It's a face that both haunts my dreams and stirs fantasies in my mind. The rough stubble along his jaw tempts my fingers to touch him. I want to feel the texture. I want to spear my fingers through his thick hair and do so much more. I close my eyes as the thoughts overwhelm me.
What’s wrong with me? This isn’t okay. But I can’t help it. I’m consumed with thoughts of him. The seeds of sin he planted have sprouted, and I can’t escape the dark thoughts.
He did tell me he wanted me, didn’t he? Or did I dream it? I can’t remember.
“You need to eat,” he says in a low, even voice. The smooth cadence and rough tone make my nipples harden and my pussy clench. I close my eyes, ignoring my treacherous body and hating him. But I hate myself even more.
“I don’t want to,” I lie. I do want to eat. I don’t know why I’m doing this to myself anymore. I feel weak and sick, and I hate that I let myself be degraded to this. My eyes dart to the peach in his hand, and he holds it closer to me.
“It’s for you, princess.” His voice is mesmerizing. It’s for me.
A sick part of me is thrilled for a moment.
He brought it just for me. My mouth salivates as I think of the taste, and the sweet smell fills my lungs. My head’s dizzy with dehydration and I don’t feel well, but the sight of the peach, the gift Gio’s brought me, makes me want to take it in my hands.
“Come, princess. I want you to have this.” He holds it out for me, and I fall victim to the trance in his voice. I slip forward and brush the fruit with the tip of my fingers. It's barely inside the cage.
My eyes find his, and my heart slams in my chest. I’m afraid to come out any farther.
“Go on, I won’t reach for you. You’re safe.” His words comfort me, as though I believe they’re true. It’s not a trick.
As I reach for the peach, his fingers gently brush along mine, stilling my beating heart and causing an intense heat to flow through my veins. The spark ignited is so intense, I nearly drop the peach, but I catch it just in time with both hands. I barely come out of the cage and look up at him, his cold blue eyes are heated and piercing into me. I slowly back away as if moving too quickly will alert him to the fact that he could touch me if he wanted to. It would break his rule if he did, but he’s staring at me with a hunger that I’ve never seen from him. An uncontrollable hunger that elicits both fear and desire.
I push my back up against the bars of the far end of the cage and wait with the peach, my prize and gift, held firmly in both hands. My body is tense as he finally stands and leaves me in silence.
I wait to hear the click of the door and beep of the lock before bringing the fruit to my lips, practically moaning from the sweetness and licking every drop of delicious juice, wasting nothing.
It seems as though I’d only just taken a bite when I look down and see it’s gone, replaced with the pit.
It wasn’t enough. I need more.
Chapter 9
Gio
* * *
She’s still in the cage. She’s always in the cage.
It’s impressive. Grace has gone so many days without eating, despite how weak she was when she first woke up. She was defiant, angry, and still refuses to leave the cage. She’s finally accepting some food, but that defiance is still there, that beautiful fucking defiance.
In the early days, she would sneak from her cage when she thought I wasn’t watching. I’m always watching her, though. I let her explore the room, test her boundaries.
I let her learn that there was no real escape.
I lean back in my chair, watching her. She barely moves, rocking side to side, humming something. I’m not sure what the music is, but she hums it sometimes when I’m not in the room. Maybe it’s just nonsense and she’s just passing time, or maybe it’s a memory she can’t help but vocalize.
I’m fascinated by her, far more interested than I thought I would be. I thought she was just another mafia princess, a spoiled little girl without a personality. I expected weakness.
