Page 16 of A Debt of Darkness

“Open.”

She shakes her head. “You’re not feeding me.”

“You’re my wife,” I say. “Let me provide for you.”

Her lips purse and she frowns. She fights like she’s a fire from hell and I force myself to still. I need her submission and if she realizes exactly how much I crave it, then she’ll deny me out of spite.

I inch the canape closer and her eyes fall to it. Her jaw moves and I smell the saliva pooling in her mouth. She’s about to toss her head in protest when she stops herself, stuck between her pride and her desperation to surrender and eat.

“Open,” I repeat. “For me.”

Her bottom lip falls and I rest the canape between her lips, forcing her to move to take it from my fingers. She jerks back and eats greedily, staring at me like a starved creature as she swallows.

I select another canape and rage flashes through her emerald irises as I hold it before her.

“Again.” I pause. “Please.”

Ivy growls.

She fucking growls at me.

Like a savage animal deprived of its kill.

I fucking love it and I want more. I want her aggression, I want her anger. I want her goddamn submission and I don’t care how much it hurts her. She’s humiliated and she doesn’t like it, but her mouth opens and she takes a second bite.

“Good girl.”

I offer her another piece of food and she debates whether she wants it. I sit impassively, waiting for her to give in. I’m not pleading this time. I’m not making this easier. She’s had my help and now she can do this alone.

“Open, Ivy.”

Her jaw tightens. She sniffs and takes a fraught breath. “How much?”

I arch an eyebrow. We both know the answer and she’s testing my resolve. It’s a minor challenge and the start of a long, drawn-out fight I’ll win. She’ll choose how hard this is, but I’ve already chosen the outcome.

“Open.”

Ivy fidgets as her gaze moves between my face, the food, and the plate. She rolls her eyes and opens her mouth unnecessarily wide. Her manners are appalling and we will be working on them once I have her obedience. For now, all I need is compliance.

We continue this dance until the plate is empty. Ivy nods as she swallows the last mouthful, and I’m tempted to ask her to thank me. She pouts and pulls away, retreating to the corner of the sofa.

“Dessert?” I ask.

The look of incandescent rage she sends makes my cock wake up. I’ve been fighting my arousal, but my resolve just broke, and I turn, trying to ignore the image of her sucking dessert from something much more enjoyable than myfingers.

Fuck, I’m hard already.

“I asked you a question, Ivy.”

My tone is tense and it’s got nothing to do with the goddamn food. I’m ready to march across the room and rip that perfect silk dress to shreds as I devour her breasts and fuck her hard. I wouldn’t stop and her screams would only make me screw her harder. It’s so damn tempting. Almost impossible to resist.

“Does my answer make a difference?”

Yes. No. Sometimes. Always. Never.

Fuck, I want to explain this to her. It’s too damn complicated, too damn much. But I’ve pulled her back from the brink once tonight and the intricacies of this will terrify her.

I can’t. I won’t.

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