Page 2 of Frozen Obsession

Got back together. That phrase alone makes me see red.

"Make some friends your age, mijo," my dad adds, like this isn’t the end of the fucking world. "It would do you good. You need friends."

I scoff, curling my lips in disgust. People hate me, and I hate them right back. I don’t do sports, don’t do small talk. My hobbies? Fucking my stepsister and hunting.

"I'm outta here," I mutter under my breath, storming out of the kitchen, past the living room, and straight out of the house. The door slams behind me, but it does nothing to quiet the storm brewing inside.

I circle around the side of the house, watching. I know Xena’s in her room now, alone. Undressing herself, piece by piece, like she always does, leaving her clothes in a messy pile on the floor. Her window cracked open, just enough for me to slip inside.

I wait until she’s in the bathroom before creeping into her room. I take her panties, holding them to my face for a second before leaving a small present behind—just a reminder of who she really belongs to.

Xena thinks she’s in control, but she’ll learn. I’m not a man to be fucked with.

From outside the window, I watch as Xena dries her perfect body, her movements unhurried, absentminded. She reaches for her red lace panties, slipping them on like it’s any other night. But then, her fingers brush against the wet spot, the mark I left for her, and she freezes. Her thin brows knit together in confusion as the realization sets in. Her hand lingers over the dampness, and I see the exact moment it clicks.

Her eyes snap to the window, finding mine with eerie precision, like she knows I’m always watching. I give her a slow, deliberate smile, then blow her a kiss, savoring the panic flickering in her eyes.

Before she can react, Steve walks into her room, oblivious to the tension lingering in the air. Xena doesn’t have time to pull off her cum-soaked panties. There’s no escape, no chance to clean herself up. She’ll sit through dinner with my cum nestled between her legs, feeling me with her every step, every breath.

One way or another, she’ll remember who she belongs to.

Xena

Iwatch in horror as Steve steps into my room, my panties still wet from Roman’s cum. His tall, lean frame fills the doorway, blue eyes scanning me with confusion while he tousles his brown hair, oblivious. My pulse quickens, panic rising, as I grab my black leggings and slip them on just before his gaze lands on me.

His clueless smile twists my stomach. "You okay, babe?"

That fucking word—I hate it. The way he says it, like he owns me. Like I belong to him. If only Roman would wake up and realize this, is it—him and me. We could have something real, not this sick game where I’m just a dirty secret he fucks at night and ignores during the day.

I’ll teach him. He’ll either figure it out or lose me for good.

I’ll play the game my way. "Babe, can you help my mom set the table? I’ll be right out," I say, planting a quick kiss on his lips, already sick of pretending. He leaves, and I grab the green Christmas sweater with the stupid candy cane on it, pulling it over my head. Thick wool socks next, then I run my fingers through my hair. I don’t bother braiding it. I never learned how—but Roman did. Just for me. One of the many reasons I fell in love with my stepbrother.

At dinner, the tension is suffocating. Steve doesn’t notice, oblivious as ever. I can’t tear my eyes from Roman, sitting across the table, his gaze burning into Steve. If looks could kill, Steve would be dead on the floor. But I need more. I need Roman to snap, to finally take what’s his. I let my fingers glidealong Steve’s arm. "Steve, baby, can you pass me the salad?" My voice is honeyed, but it’s all for Roman. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch his hand tighten around the fork like he’s about to plunge it into Steve’s throat.Yes, baby. Come take what’s yours. But, like always, he swallows his anger, his jaw tense, his eyes cold.

Senior breaks the silence, turning to Steve with a warm smile. Roman looks so much like his father—except younger, sharper, where Senior is worn with age. "You’re not spending the holidays with family,mijo?"

Steve hands me the salad, grinning like the perfect son-in-law. "No, my family usually does their own thing. My brothers are both in the military, and my sister has her own family. My parents go to her house for Christmas."

Senior nods, satisfied. "Well, I’m glad you’re here with us. No one should be alone for the holidays."

My mom smiles, her eyes soft. "That’s right, mijo. I’m glad she has you here, and you two are back together." Steve beams, his perfect teeth on full display. In another life, he’d be the perfect man to settle down with—but I don’t belong to him. I belong to Roman. Always have, always will.

The night moves quickly, Roman disappearing sometime after dinner. Probably out hunting, I think. Steve falls asleep beside me, but I can’t shake the tension thrumming in my body. Eventually, sleep takes me.

I wake to a sharp tug on my hair. My mouth feels full, like something’s being shoved into it. I try to blink awake, but sleep’s claws are still in me, dragging me under. It must be Steve, I think, trying to get himself off. I’d rather just sleep through it, but then the taste of warm, salty cum invades my mouth, choking me. My eyes fly open, blurry and burning with tears. I can’t breathe. I gag, trying to huff in air, but a hand shoves me back into the pillow. Darkness swallows me again.

When I wake the next morning, the sun filters softly through the curtains. I glance over at Steve, sleeping soundly beside me, unaware of anything. I reach up and touch my hair—braided. My eyes land on the nightstand. A snow globe sits there, glittering in the early light.

My stomach drops. I know exactly who was in my room last night.

Roman.

Roman

Christmas Day

I’ve been standing here for who knows how long, watching through the window. The cold outside doesn’t phase me. I’m burning up inside. Xena’s bedroom is bathed in the warm glow of Christmas lights, casting a false sense of comfort that only fuels my rage. The sight before me fills me with rage.

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