Cristiano’s expression eased slightly. “Smart girl.”
I hadn’t realized I’d sunken deeper into his lap until the door opened again, and I vaulted forward.
“Ay,” Jazmín said. “Perdón.”
“It’s okay,” Cristiano said, beckoning her while keeping his eyes on me. “But discretion, please, Jaz.”
“Yes, yes,” she said, hurrying to the chair. “The curtains are still closed.”
“Good.” Cristiano took a plate from her, and she disappeared as quickly as she’d arrived.
“What’re you hungry for?” he asked. It sounded like a threat.
I surveyed the serving plate with fried chicken, rice, beans, plantains, and more. None of it sounded appetizing when my stomach was nothing but nerves for what was ahead.
“Dessert?” He slowly forked off a pale-blue frosted bite of Easter cake and held it up to me.
“You already announced our marriage,” I said. “Why are we hiding behind curtains?”
“Eat,” he said.
Tit for tat. Indulge his questions, and I’d get to see my father. Eat his food, and I’d get my own answers. It was enough to get me to open my mouth and let him feed me a bite.
“It won’t be possible to keep much from Jaz,” he explained. “She’s everywhere. But while you and I get to know each other, I prefer privacy. People are curious about you.” He nuzzled under my ear. “As am I.”
His breath tickled my neck, and I cursed my body as it warmed, threatening to arch into him, my nipples pebbling. It came as no surprise a man so adept at manipulating people’s minds could also do the same to a woman’s body.
He offered another bite, and I leaned in to take it.
“You’re pretty when you eat.” He thumbed frosting from the corner of my mouth and licked his finger. “Not like me. I went through a period where food was hard to come by, and if I didn’t fight to eat, I might not eat at all.”
My heart panged at the thought of anyone going hungry until I realized the cause of his struggles. He’d fled the home he’d known for eight years, ours, because of his involvement in my mother’s death. I didn’t care how many sicarios he brought me—unless we could go back in time, I’d always believe his guilt before his innocence.
“You have plenty to eat now,” I said, pursing my lips. He didn’t deserve all that he had.
“I do.” His voice rumbled as he added, “And I’m voracious, mariposa. I take big bites. I eat like I won’t get another meal. I gulp down the finest wines and unwrap my candy fast, lick and suck until I get to the sweet core,”—he nipped the shell of my ear—“because I’m greedy for the juicy center.”
I shivered, reading his words perfectly. I’d once envisioned Cristiano like an animal fending predators off his spoils. I had no idea what was to come, but I knew I’d be his feast, his candy, the frosting he licked clean. Tremors of dread mingled with a craving to be devoured as Diego had promised but not delivered.
Shame washed over me. What prey harbored even the smallest hope of being caught?
Stupid prey. Senseless prey.
Cristiano would have his way with me and discard the carcass.
“If my brother warmed you up with his mouth,” he said, “I will make it my new life’s mission to set you on fire. Are you ready for our wedding night?”
“Why do you think I wanted the aspirin?” I asked.
He drew back as if I’d slapped him. A second time. “Meaning?”
“You can make me sit on your lap and feed me sweets, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’ll push me down on a mattress later and take what you want.”
After a moment, he released his hold on me. “I’m not making you do anything,” he said. “Sit where you like.”
It almost felt like a trick, and perhaps it was a mind game. As long as we didn’t consummate the marriage, I’d be on edge knowing he could call things off at any moment. That was, assuming Cristiano was even true to his word. I stayed where I was, deliberating as my weight rested on his large wall of a chest.
Neither of us moved until he said with an edge to his voice, “Go now, mariposa. If I’m not forcing you, then you’re pressed against my cock willingly, and my control slips fast.”
I stood quickly. I wasn’t sure what I wanted, but slipping control was enough to scare me off for now.
He pulled a chair so close that it wasn’t a far cry from sitting on his lap. I took the seat, and he passed my plate over. “I’m not the one who forced you into this marriage,” he said, all the rumble, grit, and sex in his voice gone. “I tried to warn you about Diego.”
I paused with a bite halfway to my mouth. “You manipulated him into a position where he’d have to give me up or lose his life.”