Reina’s POVThis was not what I bargained for. Why wasn’t he angry? Why didn’t he demand that I leave? Why was he so calm? I would have preferred his wrath—preferred him casting me out, yelling, rejecting me. Instead, his silence, his deliberate control, became my punishment. Every second I spent cradling him, pressing food to his lips, I felt something stir inside me—something buried deep, something dark. It crept to the surface, whispering temptations I wasn’t ready to name.The way his tongue flicked over the fork, slow and deliberate, sent a shiver down my spine. His eyes—dark, unyielding—pinned me in place, stripping me bare with nothing more than a look. I clutched at my shirt, as if the fabric could shield me, as if it could keep him from seeing the way my breath hitched, the way heat curled low in my stomach. And oh, the bites on my palm— Snap out of it, Reina. Get a grip! But my gaze betrayed me, drifting to my hand, to the faint imprints of his teeth still pressed
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