Snapping Point||Book 1

34.

Romano De Rossi

We stood by my car, not moving, Xenia pressed against me. She was trembling and unconsciously biting her lip. Fuck it—doing that only made me want to devour her even more, to taste every reaction, to feel every shiver under my touch. Her pulse raced, breaths quickened. I saw it all because I was actively staring at her, absorbing every flicker of emotion, every flutter of anticipation.

Then, in the time I used my thumb to pull her bottom lip from under her teeth, her heart skipped a beat, then thundered in her chest. If I continued, I could shatter her emotions, and that...well, it turned me on pretty good.

I felt the heat in my groin.

I pinned her hands above her head, keeping her still, then whispered the command again. "Shut your eyes, I said."

Her ember eyes, filled with more than just admiration, met mine. She was far from intoxicated, but teetering on the edge of awareness. I didn't want her waking up tomorrow with an assload of regret. I didn't want to touch her because, despite sensing her desires, I knew she wasn't ready to be mine.

She wasn't near ready.

I mean look at her, vulnerable yet defiant, a contradiction in every movement, every breath. As much as I wanted to disengage her, to explore the entire universe of her being, I couldn't risk pushing her beyond her limits, seeing that she seemed to have a lot of it, even in her apparent desperation. That was my modus operandi—pushing until there was nothing left.

But a drunken oppression... not exactly my style. I rarely found enjoyment in the simplicity of such conquests. It would be too effortless, lacking the thrill of a true challenge.

So, I held back, allowing the tension to build, purposefully keeping her guessing about my intentions. Though the temptation for more lingered in my mind, I refrained for a reason. Recklessness was not a trait I embraced; diving in now would be pure foolishness.

Whenever Xenia was involved, my arrogance, dominance, and intelligence always betrayed me. One moment, I'd be exerting flawless control over her, and the next, I'd find myself losing the grip I usually had on my own arousal.

Ask about sheer terror and I'd lecture you on its complexities without breaking a sweat. Forget about trembling knees and shallow breaths; pay attention to the grip of raw, unfiltered caution around your very soul. The adrenaline rush that'd sharpen your senses and the icy catch of dread that'd tighten around your chest, reminding you of your mortality. So, if you wanted to learn, I could have been your professor in the art of terror because I experienced it firsthand there and then.

I pressed in closer than necessary, my breath hot against her ear. "Turn around," I said.

Xenia obediently twisted, presenting her back to me. I pushed her firmly against the car, tugging at her dress and digging into her flesh when her ass pressed against my groin. I felt her tense, and noticed it was the fact that she had brushed against the gun in my holster. She was one person outside of the TIF that I couldn't bring myself to point a gun at again.

I just...the thought of being violent with her rarely crossed my mind, for reasons unknown. Anything but that was my instinct.

My hands roamed her body possessively, claiming every inch as my own. I seized the collar of her jacket, pulling it off her shoulders and tossing it onto the hood of my car. Her skin... Dio Mio, so smooth and supple, awakening a dormant demon inside me.

Suppressing a groan, I inhaled the scent of her hair, a mixture of bubblegum and cotton candy, before gently biting down on her left ear.