“You’re mine, Amanda,” I said simply. “This wasn’t how I wanted things to go, but here we are.”
“But! You broke up with me! Ended our engagement,” she seethed. “Now you swoop in here and make some sick, twisted claim?”
That was what she thought happened? It couldn’t be further from the truth.
“I didn’t end our engagement.” I shoved the bite of food in my mouth, hating how bitter it tasted. “Your dad tried to break us.”
Maybe, on some level, he succeeded.
I dashed that thought away. She was still mine; she just needed to remember that.
Amanda shook her head, eyes crinkled in disgust. “No, he didn’t. He didn’t even know about us! You were arrested, and when I tried to contact you, I was given a message that we were done. My letters to you in prison were also returned.”
She didn’t know.
Huh.I sat back in my chair and studied her, spinning the fork in my hand. How much did I want to reveal? Would she even accept the truth? Or was this something I would have to slowly feed her until she looked at her father with open eyes?
“I never sent any messages.” She was going to need proof that her dad was behind the arrest and helped the prosecution send me away. “Your father did knowabout us. And it doesn’t matter that you don’t believe me. What is true now—as it was then—is that you are mine.”
I crawled back from the cell I’d been thrown into to rot. I was here. I was more powerful than Archibald Loring; he couldn’t stop us this time. Amanda was mine.
“Look, I know your pretty, calculating brain is reeling.” I leaned forward. “Eat. Sleep. And we’ll talk more later.”
Amanda didn’t move.
I popped a bite in my mouth, savoring the buttery goodness. When her gaze turned to the wall of windows and patio door, I swallowed. Breaking her would be so much fun.
The lightning-fast speed with which I pounced was honed from years of skirting dangers in the yard, the blocks, and even the cells. I wrapped my hands around her waist and plucked her from her seat. She yelped. Caught off balance, her struggling was useless. I hauled her over my lap, locked a leg over hers, and delivered a swift, stinging swat to her backside.
“Enzo!” she railed. “Are you serious right now? Spanking me—Ow!”
A wicked smile spread across my lips. I slapped her ass once more, loving the feel of it against my palm.
Pulling her upright, I adjusted her body so that her arms were caged at her side and her legs locked in mine. She thrashed, but I only squeezed harder. Reaching for her plate, I stabbed a piece of her steak with my fork.
Amanda glared at it.
I pushed it against her lips, smearing the butter and juice in a tempting offer. Her jaw clenched in protest.
And her legs? They squeezed tightly together.
Interesting….
“We have all night,” I warned. “But I suggest eating this while it’s hot.”
Whether it was the smell, the hint of flavor so close to her tongue, or the realization that this battle wouldn’t be won, she submitted. Those pretty red lips parted, and I pushed the meat into her mouth. She tore it off the fork, twisting her head away from me.
“Brava,” I praised. Her hitched breath made me grin. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
A vicious mutter sounded at the back of her throat.
I put a piece of potato and green bean on the fork for the next bite. She took it under protest. But her body was giving way to her determination. Bite after bite, she ate.
“That’s enough, I’m full,” she said after half the food was done.
“No,” I warned. “You’re not.”
“Vincenzo, I don’t eat that much,” she protested.
