Page 22 of Frozen Obsession

"I hate you!" she repeats, voice cracking.

"No, you don’t." I say flatly as I finish buckling the collar. "And neither do I. I love you, but my love isn’t the fluffy kind—it’s consuming. I love you, and because I love you, I have to break you, baby."

Her eyes glisten with a mix of fear and anger as she thrashes. "I don’t need you… I need my pills. Not you," she hisses.

I pull the remote out of the box and hit the button. The collar hums as it zaps her, her body convulsing on impulse. Almost instantly, the fight drains from her eyes. She lies beneath me, trembling like a cornered doe.

"That’s enough," I finally say, releasing the button. The harsh buzzing stops, replaced by her heavy panting. The spit and venom are gone now. "Behave." I whisper as I lean into her, cupping her perfect breast in my hand.

Her full lips part as I replace my hand with my mouth, covering her nipple and drawing a sweet sound from her lips. "I hate you," she whispers, but her wetness gives her away. I move to the other tit, my hand slipping between us, then disappearing between her legs.

My girl is wet and eager. Her body reacts instantly to my touch, a stark contrast to the turmoil from moments ago. She arches into my hand, the fight in her eyes softening, betraying the residual anger in her voice.

"Liar," I tease lightly, nipping at her other breast before swirling my tongue around the pierced nipple. My dick strains against the zipper of my pants, but this isn’t about me—not right now. This is about conditioning. Rewards when she’s good, punishment when she’s bad.

Right now, she just needs relief—no edging, just sweet, sweet relief.

My mouth travels lower, her body fully in sync, reacting to every flick of my tongue, every nip of my teeth. When my tongue flattens on her perfect pussy,Xena’s body arches off the bed. "Ro," she breathes as my tongue circles her clit before plunging as deep as I can inside her. Her hands instinctively grip the sheets beneath her, knuckles white as she gasps for air, her body embracing the sweet relief that was just moments ago a distant hope.

I move one hand to pin her hips to the bed, holding her steady. Xena moans and shudders as I continue my worship. Every taste of her is intoxicating, like the richest wine. Now, it’s no longer about the conditioning—it’s about adoration. Adoring my Xena, my beautiful, defiant creature. My movements become more assertive as she writhes beneath me, her moans reaching a crescendo that echoes through the room.

"Ro…" she calls out my name again and again like a desperate prayer, each utterance punctuated by her heaving breaths and gasps. I press my mouth harder against her pussy, tasting her exquisite pleasure and feeling her muscles clench around my tongue as her orgasm takes hold. She cums, squirting on my face, and still, I don’t stop. Instead, I plunge deeper, drinking in the sweet taste of her release.

I feel her body convulse and shake beneath me as I ride out her orgasm. Her grip on the sheets loosens, then tightens again as the aftershocks roll through her body. "Oh, God, Ro," she gasps as I continue to feast on her.

Ten years without her has done nothing to satiate my hunger; if anything, it’s intensified it. The taste of her is like a memory—sweet and intoxicating, hitting me with a force that leaves me reeling, craving more.

I finally raise myself up from between her legs, feeling the sticky wetness of her orgasm smeared across my face. Without a word, I leave her in the room and head back into the kitchen.

Chapter Thirteen

Xena

Tears stream down my face as I watch him walk away, my cum still shimmering on his lips. My veins burn, itching beneath my skin like they’re on fire. I crave numbness—anything to escape this relentless agony. But with my pussy still pulsing, every nerve is on edge, and it’s impossible to ignore the raw sensations coursing through me. My body aches with a longing so deep, it feels like it’s seeping into my bones.Damn him.

I don’t know how long I wait—screaming, yelling, cursing, because fuck Roman. But when I finally calm down and try to close my eyes, desperately hoping for sleep, the door creaks open. Roman steps in, shirtless in gray sweats, carrying a bowl. Looking good enough to eat damn has time done him well and from the familiar smell, I’d bet my sweet ass it’s chicken noodle soup.

"Oh, jolly," I groan as he kicks the door closed with his foot.

"Time to eat. You’re all bones. I like some meat with my meal," he taunts, moving closer.

"Newsflash, I don’t care," I snap.

He grins, placing the bowl on the nightstand beside the bed. "You do," he says with certainty. I purse my lips and roll my eyes, but he’s already scooping up a spoonful of soup, making sure to gather the veggies. Roman blows on it, a few soft puffs before guiding it toward my lips like an airplane.

"Here comes the plane," he teases, smirking as he hovers the spoon in front of my mouth. I glare at him, but before I can protest, he nudges the spoon closer to my lips.

"Open up," he demands, his voice soft but unyielding. I glare at him, but my body betrays me—my mouth parts, and he slips the spoon between my lips. The warmth of the broth spreads through me, and I hate how good it feels. I hate that he’s here, taking care of me, but I can’t fight him. Not now.

"Why are you doing this?" I whisper, my voice cracking. He cocks his head slightly, the scar beneath his strong jaw catching the dim light. His eyes bore into mine, and for just a moment, I swear his expression softens.

"Because I can’t break what’s already broken," he replies, his tone matter-of-fact.

Of course, that would be his reason. After all, I’m the one who ruined ten years of his life. I seduced him, even when he tried to stay away. He warned me he’d consume me, that he was possessive and dangerous. But I didn’t care. I wanted to burn for him.

But now it’s too late. I fucked up his life, all because of my games, and now he’s here to fix me, only to break me further. The irony is bitter. I could laugh at it, but right now, all I want to do is cry. But I don’t. I swallow it all down, the hatred, the regret, the tears that choke me.

After the soup, he doesn’t waste any time. He pulls me down, unbinding me from the Christmas lights. I groan as I move my aching limbs, barely registering what happens next. His hands are rough as they grip my hair, forcing me onto my knees. I resist, clenching my teeth, but then I feel the zap of the collar.

---