Page 16 of Frozen Obsession

The snow beneath us turns scarlet, mingling with the blood of the man Roman just killed, as he fucks me into sweet abyss. Each thrust drives me further into oblivion, the horror of what’s happening slipping away, leaving only the raw power of his dominance. My body betrays me, responding against my will, caught in the brutal rhythm of his desire. Finally, he stills, buried to the hilt, and I feel the sickening warmth of his cum invading my pussy.

I climax again, my screams lost to the storm. Roman leans down, his breath hot against my ear.

"You must’ve been a good girl. Santa came early this year. Merry Christmas, my little junkie," he whispers, dark amusement dripping from his words as his grip tightens around my neck. The world begins to blur, the blizzard outside swallowing me whole while Roman’s twisted laughter echoes in my mind. Darkness creeps in, overtaking me, leaving only the torment of my own desires and the unrelenting cold of the storm.

Chapter Eight

Roman

Once my little junkie passes out, I carry her inside, her limp body feeling weightless in my arms.Fuck,is she skinny. I glance down at her—she’s always been petite, her ass literally the biggest part of her, but now she’s fragile. A shadow of the viper I remember. The storm outside howls like a beast, but here, it’s quiet—too quiet. The only sounds are the dripping water from the faucet I just turned on and the ragged breaths she fights to take in.

I gently place her in the tub, her head lolling back, eyes half-open, lost somewhere between consciousness and oblivion. And still stunning. Not even the drugs or the hard life has taken the beauty out of her.

I strip off my clothes, the fabric sticking to my skin, still damp with sweat and blood. The water is warm, steam rising from the tub as I ease myself in. Her body shivers against the heat, and I find myself brushing a strand of hair away from her face.God,she’s beautiful—even like this, especially like this.

"Time to wake up," I whisper, gently smacking her face. She opens her eyes for a brief second before they close again. I smack her a little harder this time. "Stay awake or drown," I say, my voice firm.

Her eyes snap open, teary and tired. "Drowning doesn’t sound too bad right now," she whispers, her voice barely audible.

My black little heart does that thing again—it tugs. Her words almost make mefeel something.Almost.

"How long have you been out?" she asks, her voice cracking with the remnants of the drug haze. She turns to face me, her eyes search mine, but I don’t give her anything to hold on to, just a smirk that doesn’t reach my eyes. I grab the shampoo, squirting some into my hand.

"Long enough," I say, as I run my fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp. The feel of her under my hands, the vulnerability in this moment, stirs something deep inside me. But I shove it down, burying it like I’ve done with everything else.

I’m sitting behind her, cradling her in the tub, and memories rush in like a flood. The warmth of the water, the intimacy of the act—it takes me back. Back to the first time I slipped inside her, back to us doing this. I craved this very moment, the way I held onto her like she was the air I needed to breathe.

I wanted to break her, convinced she had a happy life—a life without me in it. But now, she’s a shell. And one thing about me? I would break her. I was rough, but I always put her back together, always took care of her. It’s just who I am. But it doesn’t matter how broken she is, I will finish the job until the pieces fall and I can put them back together how I want them.

But as I relax, sinking into the moment, memories of my father creep in, uninvited.

My father was a kind and weak man who loved me more than I deserved. He even loved the cheating whore that was my mother more than she deserved.It’s a good thing she died, forcing him to move on. He was a good man, but too soft, too trusting. And in the end, I broke him too. Just like I’m going to break her. The irony is almost poetic.

Xena stirs, turning her body to face me. She snaps me back to the present. She’s coming back to herself, and I can see the panic setting in. "Roman," she whispers, her voice trembling, eyes wide as realization dawns on her. "You killed Marcos… Did you kill Jimmy too?"

I don’t respond, just nod. There’s no reason to say it out loud; she knows what happens to those who touch what’s mine. Her reaction is immediate—rage, fear, desperation. She smacks me, hard, across the face, and I don’t stop her. I let her get it out, the tears, the anger.

"How am I going to get my fix now? You ruined everything, Roman! Everything!" Her voice breaks, and I can see the cracks forming in her resolve, just like I knew they would. She’s spiraling, losing control, and that’s exactly what I need.

After smacking me, cursing me, and crying, she stands and leaves the bathroom. I follow right behind her, not caring to dry myself off as I follow her back into her room. I yank the Christmas lights wrapped around her window and stalk toward her, still naked.

"I’m not in the mood," she says, but I don’t give a fuck. This isn’t a negotiation, and I’m not giving her a choice.

"Who says I care about your moods?" I growl, grabbing her wrists and pulling them behind her back.

Using the Christmas lights, I bind her wrists tightly enough that she can’t escape but not so tight that it cuts off circulation. She struggles, but she’s weak, exhausted from the fight I choked out of her earlier.

"Be a good little junkie… and take the fix I’m about to give you," I whisper, leaning closer. My lips brush over hers as my hand grabs her ass, guiding her toward the bed.

"Lay down," I order, my voice thick with desire. She complies, her body trembling. I use more lights to spread her legs apart, tying each ankle to a separate bedpost. Now she’s open wide and aroused there’s no denying the way her pretty pussy weeps for me.Now for the fun part.

"Ro," she whispers as I turn to walk toward her dresser. "I need my oxy’s or just hand me the pills inside the dresser," she says nonchalantly, causing me to pause and look at her over my shoulder.

"I told you, my dick is the only drug you need," I reply, my tone dark.

"ROMAN!" she screams, thrashing against the bindings. "Ro, please." That fucking word almost makes me give in, but I can’t. I won’t. I need her here, with me. I’ll only break her when she’s sober.

"Do you remember Christmas… ten years ago?"

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