Roads of Redemption | F1 | Toto Wolff

09 | In Your Room.

I couldn't face him.

His gaze consumed me, leaving me speechless, torn between the desire to give in and the urge to put an end to it all.

The more I tried to avoid his eyes, the more relentless he became.

When I stubbornly kept my eyes away, he made his move. His fingers brushed along the curve of my chin, tracing upward with excruciating slowness until his thumb grazed my lower lip, pressing just enough to part it. He held there for a beat, teasing, before letting his touch drift along my skin. Then his lips followed, gliding down my jawline—each kiss heavier, hungrier, savoring every small tremble and unsteady breath he drew from me.

He moved down to my neck, lingering longer this time, his lips pressing into my skin with deliberate precision before his teeth grazed me, sharp and teasing. The bite that followed dragging a trembling moan from my lips that I couldn't stifle. I felt his grin against my skin, smug and triumphant—he was savoring every second of watching me unravel, knowing just how close I was to completely giving in.

"Tell me to go," he murmured, his voice rough and dripping with amusement—he knew exactly how much his challenge was unraveling me. "And I'll go."

"Toto, I—"

Whatever I was about to say slipped away as his lips wandered down my neck, leaving scorching kisses and sharp bites in their wake, each one sending a rush of heat through me.

"What?" he pressed, his tone low and teasing, the word vibrating against my skin.

With each passing second, the space between our bodies seemed to shrink, the heat rising along with the suffocating tension. I felt his control blending with my growing desire, pulling me deeper into this charged atmosphere.

"Say it," he demanded, his voice thick as he knew exactly how close I was to caving in.

"Kiss me," he whispered, his lips just a breath away from mine, teasing me with ghostly touches. He let his mouth graze the corners, featherlight kisses that only fueled the ache, as if he were tracing the outline of my lips with his breath alone.

It was torturous—always close, never enough.

I was right on the edge, my body tense and desperate, but he remained in control. His hands slid lower to grip my waist, pulling me closer until I was flush against him.

"Kiss me," he whispered again, this time his breath hot and heavy against my skin, every word dripping with intention.

His hands toyed with my waist, fingers moving in slow, teasing circles over the fabric of my dress, skimming between my belly and hips before sliding upward to brush against my breasts, his thumbs circling in slow, deliberate motions that made my breath hitch.

Just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, he slid his hands down, gripping my hips firmly and pulling me even closer.

Before I could think straight, I closed the gap and crushed my lips against his, desperate and starving for more than just his teasing touches. My tongue met his in a slick, urgent slide, and he kissed me back with a hunger that made me moan against his mouth.

His hand moved up to grip my jaw, his thumb pressing insistently against my lips before slipping inside. Instinct took over—I sucked on it slowly, swirling my tongue around the pad, letting him feel exactly how badly I wanted him. His eyes darkened with raw need, watching me with a gaze that burned hotter with every second.

He didn't rush, letting me work his thumb while his other hand gripped my waist, pulling me even closer. When he finally pulled it free, he didn't waste time. He slammed his mouth back onto mine, his kiss rough, almost punishing. He sucked my lower lip into his mouth, teeth grazing with a sharpness that made my whole body tighten—a delicious mix of pleasure and pain that left me aching for more.