Page 52 of Massimo

I feel something jump against my hip, and I shift. He makes that noise again, and my eyes widen as I realize what's pressing against the side of my butt cheek.

He's hard, reacting to me on his lap and caring for me.

Rather than freak me out—like it absolutely should—I relax further into him.

"Good girl," he rasps. "My good fucking girl."

I squeeze my thighs together as more wetness pools in my panties.

Taking caring of meandpraise… Sweet thundering god, I'm doomed.

He feeds me a few forkfuls of the eggs, then grabs the berries when I point at them. He stares at my mouth as he gently pushes them inside, one by one.

He pauses periodically to offer me water and herbal tea. "Would you like some toast? I can get Jerome to make fresh slices so they're warm."

"It's okay."

Instead of letting Massimo offer me the toast,Ireach for it. My hand shakes as I take it, and Massimo is silent as he watches me. I break it into two halves. He goes completely still when I lift one half to his mouth, offering to feed him. He accepts it, and our eyes never break contact asIfeedhim.

Pleasure fills me, as I take care of him. I've never taken care of anyone—not for lack of wanting to, though; everyone always kept their distance from the Mancini Princess.

But taking care of Massimo is in another stratosphere.

When he's finished, I look at the other piece of toast in my hand.

My eyes shift to Massimo; he's silent—refusing to give me the order or permission to eat—but everything about him is encouraging me to do just that. To beat my father's lessons and conditioning.

My hand shakes as I lift the toast to my mouth. It's such a ridiculously innocuous action, but without the verbal command, it's a mammoth hurdle for me to try to get over.

Tears bead on my lashes, and my vision blurs.

If you do this, you'll be punished. Youknowthis. You've learned this lesson so many times before.

Gentle thumbs wipe my tears away, and Massimo's face comes into clearer focus. Still, he remains silent, but his face isn't unreadable or stoic; there's so many words there.

The toast comes to my lips, then I'm biting it, chewing, and swallowing. I keep feeding myself, without ever being commanded to eat, until it's gone.

Then I'm breaking down against Massimo's chest as his arms wrap around me.

Chapter 23

Massimo

Novaisslumpedagainstmy chest, her head tucked under my chin, as I rub her back until she calms.

I can't imagine the mental gymnastics she's had to go through to get through this meal—something the rest of us don't even think about. Not having the brutal, harsh psychological abuse and control that her father had over her.

"You did it, princess," I murmur into her hair, and she burrows her face into my chest. "No one ordered you to eat, and you did it. Thank you for letting me help you and feed you until you felt ready to physically do it yourself."

She sniffs and hiccups, and I chuckle.

"Don't laugh at me," she mumbles into my shirt.

My chest squeezes. Her words… They're an order of her own; something I know she would've never dared utter in her own home. And they're relaxed and joking.

"I'm not laughing at you, princess. Your little hiccups are adorable as fuck." I gather her hair and pull it back to reveal her beautiful face. "Have you eaten enough?"

She nods. "You only ate half a piece of toast."

---