After a few bites, he seemed content that I would be docile for this shameful act. His other hand lifted from where it’d rested warningly on the paper to stroke my hair. I shivered as my body tingled, hating my involuntary physical reactions to his touch. The contact was undeniably soothing in the wake of being punished, when all I wanted to feel was hatred and resentment.

He watched me intently as he fed me, his eyes penetrating so much deeper than my blank expression. I lowered my lashes so that he wouldn’t be able to see just how badly he was rattling me.

Despite my despair, I didn’t shed a single tear. I would not cry for him. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

I would not break for Dante Torrio.

15. Dante

Chapter 15

Dante

Satisfaction was a warm buzz in my veins, a slight high from dominating my beautiful wife.

Beautiful, but too thin. I wouldn’t allow her to starve herself.

Her cheeks were pink, and her eyes remained downcast as she took the last bite of her breakfast from my hand. She was deeply embarrassed by what I was doing to her, but that only made me enjoy it all the more. Nora was my responsibility now, and I wanted to care for her. If that meant making her shudder and blush, even better. The darkest parts of me craved this from her, and I wouldn’t deny myself. I didn’t feel a shred of remorse or hesitation; she was mine, and I could do as I pleased.

We were well matched. I could feel the warmth of her wet cunt on my thigh, making my pants damp where she sat on my lap. I wondered if she still tingled with arousal as I fed her or if it was residual lust from being punished. She’d been turned on by my discipline. I relished the prospect that humiliation also incited her carnal desire.

I brushed a kiss over her pink cheek. “Well done, pet.”

She stiffened in my arms, chafing at the praise. She probably interpreted it as mockery, but I was truly pleased with her. I did enjoy toying with her, but I wanted her to be healthy. It mattered to me that she ate a full meal. I wouldn’t watch my wife waste away.

I touched my fingers beneath her chin and lifted her face to mine, locking her in my earnest gaze. This wasn’t a game. Not this time. Her wellbeing was too important.

“I’m going to take care of you, Nora,” I vowed. “I’m your husband.”

Her lush lips pulled back from her white teeth in a small snarl of contempt. “You’re not my husband. Luca is. You’re just a monster intent on torturing me.”