16. 16 - Maverick
I can feel the stares 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 fuck am I 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 is own her.
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.
Doesn’t matter , a voice whispers. She’s here now.
And most of all, I want to know how she looks pinned beneath me, her head thrown back in ecstasy as my cock sinks into her.
The battle rages on inside my head as I nudge her glass towards her. “Drink.”
Her throat looks so delicate as it flexes, swallowing down a gulp of wine.
Ryder taps his fingers on the table, and I tear my eyes away to look at him. His head is tilted towards me, but he’s watching her. Enzo, too. I’m amazed he even showed up to this dinner, but maybe I shouldn’t be.
I would have showed up for her, too.
I continue feeding her until she shakes her head, a small, protesting sound coming from her throat. “You need to eat too. I think I’m full.”
I scowl down at the plate. She’s barely eaten a third.
That’s going to change, but I’ll let it go for tonight.
Ignoring my own plate, I settle back in my chair. Zella shifts, her fingers clutching her glass like it’s her own personal comfort blanket. Her braid trails over the back of the tall chair, pooling onto the floor in a messy rope.
My hands ache to touch it, to unravel it and see the full glorious length, but I hold myself back.
I need to control myself.
Enzo has no such compunction. Standing up, he makes his way around the table and throws himself into the seat next to Zella, his hand whipping out to wrap around the back of her neck.
Ryder and I stiffen. Leaning forward, I’m about to rip into him when I see Zella relax, tension leaking out of her body as she leans back into his touch.
He gives me a knowing smirk, but his fingers move, rubbing her neck as she nestles back with a quiet sigh.
She wouldn’t look so relaxed if she knew how easily he could snap it.
Forcing myself to look away, I drum my fingers on the table. “So.”
Three sets of eyes focus on me.
“Zella.” I allow myself to focus on her completely. “What are we going to do with you?”
Zella shifts as if to lean forward, but Enzo keeps her exactly where she is, his fingers squeezing in light warning. A little huff slips out, but she stays still. Her mouth opens, and then closes again.
“I don’t know,” she responds finally. There’s a little shake in her face as her eyes stare down at the table. “I don’t exactly have a plan here.”
The touch of sass in her voice lifts the edges of my lips, but I straighten them, leaning forward. “You have no family? Friends?”
She looks at me, all eyes and hair. “I don’t have anyone.”
Her voice is even now, even as sadness bleeds into the air.
Enzo growls, but he stops when I glare at him. I can’t work out exactly where his head’s at, so he doesn’t get a fucking say in this.
Ryder smiles languidly. “Not entirely true, princess.”
He waves a hand around the table towards us, and I frown.
She’s already gotten under our defenses. Invading our space. And if she stays, then it’ll only get worse.
I don’t know if I’ll be able to let her go.
“We can give you money,” I bite. The words feel like they burn on my tongue, and she pales.
“You’re making me leave?”
I swipe a hand over my face. She’s so fucking na?ve, I can’t work out if I want to shake her or pin her down and show her exactly why she shouldn’t have volunteered to come home with men who broke into her fucking apartment .
Jesus. If I make her leave, she’ll be a prime target for any asshole on the street. One look at her and she screams victim.
If I allow her to stay, she might become one anyway.
But she’d be ours , the voice whispers.
She stares at me beseechingly, and behind her, Enzo pins me with a hard stare. “She stays.”
Zella turns to him, relief flitting across her face. “Really?”
Straightening, I reach out and turn her face towards me, my fingers gripping her chin.
“He’s not the one you have to convince, Zella.”
Even her bones feel fragile, breakable under my hand as her soft puffs of breath fall against my skin.
It would be so easy to break her. And easier for us than most.
She wets her lips. “Please,” she asks quietly. “Please, Maverick.”
Fuck if her words don’t make my cock harden like a damn rock. The choked sound next to me tells me Ryder feels the same way.
My fingers rub her cheek. “If you stay… there are rules.”
Her eyes brighten immediately, and she nods enthusiastically. “I can do that. I’m good at following orders.”
Ryder lets out a strangled groan. “Princess.”
“What?” She tries to look at him, but I won’t let her.
I need her to see the risk she’s taking.
“We are not good men, Zella,” I tell her quietly.
Ryder and I are fifty shades of fucking grey. And Enzo is ninety-nine per cent dark.
But she nods anyway. A small hint of what looks like hesitation enters her eyes. “You’re talking about the room downstairs, right? Where I woke up?”
Enzo stiffens next to her.
“You don’t go down there,” I say firmly. “Not unless one of us is with you.”
She nods eagerly. “What else?”
“No going outside.” At my words, her face crumples.
“At all?” she whispers. “Not even the garden?”
“Same rules apply. With one of us only.”
She blows out a shuddery breath. “Okay.”
Her acquiescence does fucking things to my insides.
The last rule slides out too easily. “Finally, you do exactly as you’re told.”
To keep her safe. And keep her here.
“Okay,” she whispers. “I understand, Maverick.”
When I release her, trembling fingers rise up to massage her face.
Maybe she’s not so unaware after all.
But she agreed anyway.
My chest hums with satisfaction as I sink back in my chair and raise a glass. “Then you can stay.”
It feels like a net is closing, predators circling a blissfully unaware lamb.
Ours.