Page 27 of Frozen Obsession

For a moment, we just stand there, the tension between us thickening, neither of us willing to be the first to back down. His lips curl into a slow, dangerous smile. "You really don’t know what you’re asking for."

I lean in closer, my eyes never leaving his. "Maybe I do."

He shakes his head, tsking. "Nah, baby. We’re doing this right—like old times. We’ll put up the decorations, make some cookies… and then I’ll fuck that tight little pussy of yours." He winks, his tattoo wrinkling at the corner of his eye with his smile. "Hope you enjoyed breakfast. Feeling any better?" He ask changing the subject.

I can’t help but grin, heat rushing through me. "Thanks. I still feel like shit, but my head’s clearer." Stretching, I walk over to the box, bending down to pick up a snow globe. "You remember this?"

Roman’s eyes soften as he takes the globe from my hands, shaking it gently. Inside, an ice-skating couple swirls around—the same one he stole for me that first Christmas together.

"Yeah, I remember," he says, voice thick with emotion. "I remember everything, Xena Bean. Ten years I did nothing but remember." He gazes at the globe, a hintof pain in his eyes. "I didn’t want to forget—especially not you."

Guilt hits me like a punch to the gut because, while he’s clung to every memory, all I’ve wanted was to forget.

We stand in silence before Roman steps closer. His rough fingers tilt my chin, his thumb brushing my lower lip. "So beautiful. So broken," he whispers. My breath catches as he pulls out a mistletoe from his back pocket, holding it above us with a wicked smile. Before I can react, there’s a sharp jolt of electricity from the collar. A small gasp escapes me—he’s testing me, pushing to see if I’ll break. "What was that for?" I snarl but there’s no hostility in my voice and he knows it.

"Kiss me," he commands, his voice thick with power, lips hovering over mine, teasing. And then he crashes into me, the kiss rough, hungry, demanding.

His grip tightens, yanking me against him as his mouth devours mine, filled with a desperate hunger that burns right through me. Every touch, every movement of his mouth ignites a fire inside me, even as guilt twists inside. His hands roam my body like he’s memorizing me, claiming every inch. The collar tightens just enough to remind me who’s in control. Above us, the mistletoe sways like a twisted promise.

He pulls back, his breath hot against my skin. "Live for me, Xena," he whispers. It’s not a request—it’s a command. My heart slams against my ribs, but before I can answer, his mouth is on mine again—slower this time, deliberate, savoring every second as if he’s imprinting me on him. My knees buckle, the room spinning as all I feel is him.

When he finally pulls away, both of us are breathless. Roman looks at me, his cocky smirk returning, his voice low and rough. "I’ve been waiting for that."

I blink, still catching my breath. "For what?"

His thumb grazes my jaw, his grin widening. "To kiss you sober. To have you actually want it."

A shaky laugh escapes me, still buzzing from his touch. "Oh yeah?" I raise aneyebrow, tilting my head. "And was it everything you hoped for?"

His chuckle rumbles low, his fingers tracing my hip. "Everything and more." He leans in, his lips ghosting over my cheek, his voice dropping to a dark whisper. "Kiss me again. Tell me you hate me while I’m inside you. Fight me, little sister."

My stomach tightens, heat pooling low at his words, sharp and teasing. I tilt my head, lips curling into a dangerous smile. "Stop calling me your sister… and make me."

The air between us thickens, his eyes narrowing as tension crackles like electricity. His hand slides to the back of my neck, pulling me closer, his breath warm against my skin. "You want to play, Xena Bean?"

I press my body against his, defiance sparking in my gaze as I stand on my tippy toes and brush my lips against the bottom of his ear. "You think you can break me, Roman?"

His laugh is dark, his grip tightening. "I don’t need to break, what’s already broken." He leans in, biting my lower lip, his voice low and rough. "You’ll come to me willingly, begging, hating me for it… and loving every second."

I pull back, eyes flashing with challenge and desire. "Then stop talking." My fingers curl into his shirt, tugging him down to me. "And show me."

Roman grins, resting his forehead on mine. "I want to decorate first, then we can play."

I give him a small smile, knowing it’s for the best. The thing is, I hate Christmas. The small decor I place around every year is just to remind me of that night. The night that changed the course of my life. And just like that the anger, resentment, and pain that I've managed to keep at bay with drugs flood through me. Words spill from my mouth before I’m able to stop them. "You can’t just come back after all these years and expect things to be the same. Roman, it’s been ten fucking years," I finally say, my voice raw with emotion.

Roman looks at me, confusion crossing his face. I can’t blame him. I went from wanting to jump his bones to becoming an emotional wreck in seconds. Butthat’s trauma for you… my mind and the past are my enemies. That’s why I numb it all. If I can’t use drugs or sex to escape, I’ll drown him with me.

Yes, that’s what I need to do. Drown him.

Chapter Sixteen

Roman

Ikeep my eyes on Xena, watching the emotions flicker across her face—anger, lust, confusion. She’s all over the fucking place, but the important thing is she’s feeling. As long as she feels, she’ll deal with it. No more running. She’ll learn to cope—by letting the emotions consume her. I’ll be her punching bag if I have to, but she will learn to deal with her shit. I came here to break her, but fuck, I didn’t have to lift a finger. We broke each other long ago.

So, what now? We heal. Stitch together the shattered fragments of us and build something new. Something that’s ours. Dark and twisted but ours.

I step closer, my hands cradling her beautiful face. "Xena," I say softly, my thumbs brushing over her cheeks. "I warned you a long time ago that playing games with me was dangerous. You’re mine. In every sense of the word. He touched what’s mine, so he paid in blood. I don’t regret that. My only regret is what happened because of that night. But not killing the golden boy."

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