Page 40 of Kept

The delicious smells soon distract me, and I take a deep breath.

“Hungry?” Maverick asks, and when I nod, he stands up. “Allow me.”

Wide-eyed, I watch as he makes his way around the table, adding food to the plate in his hand. He towers over me as he comes to a stop beside me, and I stare up at him.

“Open up, Zella,” he murmurs. Electric blue eyes don’t move, and my mouth opens without thinking. He lifts a fork to my mouth, sliding it in slowly, and my lips wrap around it, taking in the offering.

I barely taste it as I chew, my eyes still on him.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. My stomach flutters. I jump at a slamming sound, but when I look down the table, Enzo is digging into a plate of food, not looking at us.

Ryder is watching us with a strange expression, but he doesn’t say anything as Maverick sits back down with my plate in his hand. I inhale sharply as his hand reaches out, dragging my chair closer to his.

He holds up another forkful. “More.”

It’s not a question.

Maybe this is how they treat all their guests?

Obediently, I lean forward, taking the food he offers. It melts in my mouth, some type of meat and sauce, and Maverick leans forward.

His thumb slides across my bottom lip, dragging it down, and my breath tangles in my throat as he pulls away.

Maybe.

16 - Maverick

Icanfeelthestares from Enzo and Ryder, the silent question in the air as they stare and I pick up another piece of chicken with my fork.

What the fuck are you doing?

What the fuckamI doing?

I don’t know.

I don’t know why I insisted Zella sit next to me. Why I made her a plate up rather than allowing her to serve herself, why I insisted she take food from my hand.

But as those plump lips close obediently around the fork once more, green eyes wide on mine, I can’t tear my eyes away.

After storming from the dungeon, I spent the last hour stalking up and down this room, fists clenched as I tried to resist the urge to storm upstairs and bring her down to me immediately.

Tried to push down the feeling in my chest. The darkness.

But as I watch her, I know I’m going to fail.

Maybe it was never Enzo I needed to worry about.

Maybe it was me all along.

Because all I want to do isownher.

My eyes trace her face, taking in the expressions she makes with every bite. What draws out that little crease between those gorgeous eyes, what makes her lips twist up in pleasure.

I want to know everything about this girl.

Who she is.

Where she came from.

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