13. Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
Roman
T he first thing I noticed was the broken window in my pops’ room—the same room I thought I’d safely tucked away my little junkie. I let out a sigh. I’m fucking exhausted. Cold. Sore. It was late by the time I finally got some sleep after getting rid of Jimmy, and then I had to finish dealing with Marcos. Thought she was safe there, but I should’ve known better. My little snake’s always been a wild card.
The crunch of snow under my boots fills the air as I walk toward the house. I open the door, and a trail of blood immediately catches my eye, leading straight to the kitchen. The smell of coffee and copper lingers, and I follow the trail into the living room.
Sunlight spills through the windows, casting over her like some kind of fucked-up angel—my little junkie angel. She’s slumped in my father’s old chair, limp, high as hell. The cracked Hello Kitty mug lays on the floor, coffee spilling across the wood.
My nostrils flare. She’s fucking high. Again.
But now that I’ve dealt with the bodies, I can focus on her and what needs to get done. My cock stirs in my pants—why, I couldn’t tell you—but it needs attention. Her being passed out won’t stop me. I waited long enough.
My boots echo across the room as I close the distance between us. A twisted laugh slips from my mouth. She’s such a pathetic sight—helpless, drugged out—but it stirs something dark and hungry inside me. My beautiful broken doll.
I strip off my clothes and head to the guest bathroom downstairs. I’ll fuck her, but first, I need to shower off the remains of her lovers. Using her cheap soap, I wash away the grime, blood, and sweat. It doesn’t take long before I’m out of the shower, not bothering to dry off. Naked, I walk back to my little junkie. She’s in for a rude awakening.
I pull down the tinsel she’s hung over the door frame that separates the living room from the hallway and walk to her. She stirs slightly when I begin to undress her, but she’s still blissfully ignorant of the horrors yet to come. As I peel off her leggings, I hiss when I see she’s not wearing any panties.
"Of course," I mutter to myself, shaking my head. "Always ready for trouble, huh?"
She’s laid out, exposed and vulnerable, and a triumphant grin tugs at my lips. My little snake, unconscious and completely at my mercy. I guess it’s a fucking Christmas miracle.
I take a moment, just watching her, savoring the power that comes with her being so utterly helpless. She thought she could slither out of my grip, but now? Now, she's mine. And i’m here to remind her.
Slowly, I stroke my cock, the words slipping from my lips, "So beautiful." I’m not just hard—I'm throbbing, already leaking, so close to the edge. Her black hair falls messily over her face, and I can’t help but reach for it. I gather the silky strands, my fingers moving automatically as I braid it, just like I always did before fucking her mouth or ass. It makes it easier to pull her head back, to control her the way I want.
As I work, she starts to stir, her body responding instinctively to the roughness of my touch. Even in this dazed state, her body knows who it belongs to.
I grin, remembering how I learned to braid just for her. When she first came into my life, I’d watch her struggle with that beautiful hair of hers—always getting frustrated, ending up in tears when it didn’t turn out the way she wanted. But I loved it, that dark, blue-black silk flowing all the way down to her perfect ass. So, I taught myself to braid, just for her. I still remember the first time I did it—her beautiful brown eyes lighting up in surprise. That’s when it hit me—I was in love with my step sister. Once I finish braiding her hair, I wrap it tightly around my hand, using it like a leash, controlling every movement of her head. My other hand starts to explore the wonders that are Xena, savoring the way her body is laid out before me, helpless and mine.
Her weak, groggy protests are nothing but background noise. I cup her breasts, my fingers rolling her stiff, pierced nipples, teasing them until they harden under my touch. I can’t help but chuckle softly, the sound low and dark, as I marvel at the contrast—her body limp, drugged out of her mind, yet still responding like it always does. Eager. Ready. Like she was made for this.
"Always come alive under my touch, don’t you, Xena Bean?" I murmur, almost to myself, as my fingers trail down her body, tracing the soft curves of her flesh. Her skin shudders beneath my touch, the familiar tremble of her body as I claim what’s mine. She’s always been mine to explore, to ravage—my playground.
I kneel between her legs, already knowing what I’ll find there. Her pussy is warm, slick, and ready for me, just like I expect. My body moves on instinct, my tongue flattening against her, tasting the sweet juices that have gathered there, while my hands stay busy, teasing her nipple piercings, twisting and pulling until her body jerks in response. A moan slips from her lips, and I can’t help but smirk.
She’s always been mine. Even asleep, her body knows it.
I savor her body like a starving man, each taste, each touch only stoking the insatiable hunger within me. Her soft moans fill the room, echoing in my ears as I continue to feast on her. I lose myself in it, licking, nipping, and sucking, but I need more.
I stop playing with her nipples, my hand moving up to her face, and I slap her. Gently of course. Xena’s body jerks, but my other hand on her braid holds her in place as I continue to eat her out. But she’s still not alert—not enough for what I have planned. Again, my hand comes down on her cheek, harder this time, her head lurching to the side. At this, her eyelids flutter open, confusion and shock reflecting in her hazy brown eyes. Before fright can seize her, I release her braid and place my hand over her mouth, muffled sounds escaping from underneath my palm.
My eyes bore into hers as I trace a finger down the center of her body, from her slick wetness up to the rigid peaks of her breasts. A cold chill runs through her as I laugh, a deep, menacing sound that contrasts with the pleasure coursing through her veins.
"Ah, Xena," I breathe against her skin, my hand still covering her mouth. Her nostrils flare as she starts to freak out, but all that fight leaves her the moment my mouth comes back down on her clit. I twirl my tongue on the sensitive bud, locking eyes with her, and bring her to damnation. She comes undone, her arousal coating my mouth as her body convulses and thrashes beneath me. Her eyes, once hazy, are now a clear liquid brown, swirling with emotions I can’t quite identify. But I don’t care. I taste the arching of her back, the clenching of her thighs around my head. My hand stays over her mouth until she’s done.
Quickly, I stand. "Shh… little junkie. I’m here to give you your daily fix. You’ve been a naughty, naughty whore, so I’ll punish you first." I remove my hand from her mouth and pick up the golden tinsel discarded on the ground. Using her braid like a leash, I tug her up, placing her on her feet. She’s silent, not a word, but I can feel her anger.
"Fuck, this is about to be amazing," I mutter, my balls tightening at the thought as I place the tinsel around her neck and help her to her knees.
There’s some resistance from her, an urge to rebel against my dominance. But even as her fists clench, a surge of heat courses through me. Her anger is just as intoxicating as her submission.
"Do you like that?" I murmur, a wicked smile playing on my lips as I watch her struggle with the tinsel around her neck. Using my free hand, I fist the base of my cock and brush the precum on her juicy, rose-colored lips.
"Suck," I instruct, guiding her towards the thick, swollen head. Her eyes narrow at me in a silent challenge, and I can’t help but laugh, my voice bouncing off the walls of the dim room. In that moment, her defiant spirit drives me wild. It’s not just a desire to degrade her or establish my dominance; it’s the challenge in her gaze, the fire in her rebellion.
The sight of her, naked and vulnerable yet brimming with defiance, makes me harder than ever.
She looks at me, fire in her eyes that ignites a primal need in me and lowers her head slowly. Her teeth graze the head of my cock, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. I hiss through gritted teeth, tightening the tinsel around her neck. If she’s going to make it hurt, I might as well return the favor. That reminds me—when I go out for food, I’ll need to stop at the pet store as well. Like any pet in need of training, my little snake will require a collar. The thought only heightens the anticipation thrumming through my veins.
Her lips finally close around me, and she takes me in, her tongue swirling around my shaft in rhythm with my heartbeat. I tilt my head back, losing myself in the sensation.
"Bite me again," I growl, needing to feel that pain, to feel her fight. I don’t want submission—I want her fire. Her teeth sink into my flesh once more, a sharp pang of pain blending with the pleasure coursing through me. Her defiant eyes never leave mine as she does so. The mingling of pain and pleasure sends shivers down my spine, my cock jerking in her mouth. Using the tinsel, I pull her close, my dick impaling her throat, feeling the back of it as I ram in and out of her mouth. Her fiery gaze remains locked onto me, that silent determination driving me on.
I continue to thrust into her mouth, delighting in the moist warmth that surrounds me. Her nails dig into my thighs, but I don’t stop—not even as I feel the orgasm build in my core. Just when I’m about to cum deep in her throat, I pull out, covering her face and neck with cum. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t show a hint of resentment. Instead, this twisted bitch licks off the cum that lands on her lips. Fuck, this woman is my ruin. There’s no denying it.
Using the tinsel as a leash, I position her on all fours on the ground like the bitch she is. She’s already dripping wet—I can see the slickness between her thighs. My girl is ready for her fix, so I don’t bother with prep. Without warning, I shove my semi-hard length into her tight heat, the sudden invasion ripping a gasp from her lips.
She clenches around me instantly, and I grunt at the sensation. Her wetness coats me, easing my entry as I fill her with one hard thrust. Her body jolts beneath me, her fingertips digging into the wooden floor as she adjusts to the intrusion. Gripping the tinsel, I choke her lightly as I drive into her, burying myself to the hilt over and over.
"Roman… Roman…" Her voice is strained, broken with each forceful thrust. Her body writhes beneath me, the wooden floor creaking under the relentless rhythm, but I couldn’t care less. The sight of her on all fours, golden tinsel wrapped around her tan skin, sweat running down her spine—I can’t resist the urge to mark her.
I pull the tinsel tight, bringing her body closer as I sink my teeth into her shoulder, leaving a raw, red mark. Slowly, I drag my cock out and thrust back in, savoring the way she tightens around me. "Roman…" she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. My little snake is lost in the oblivion of pleasure, surrendering to the relentless thrusts of my need.
Her knuckles whiten against the wooden floor, her fingers scratching at the varnished surface as I plunge into her again and again. "That’s it," I growl into her ear, feeling the tinsel tighten around her throat, constricting just enough to add a dangerous edge to her pleasure.
"Fuck, Ro," she moans, her voice breaking as the floodgates open. She squirts on my dick, filling me with a surge of victory.
Her body spasms, muscles tensing with the liquid fire running through her veins, every shudder drawing her tighter against me. I feel my own climax building, the pressure rising unbearably at the base of my spine. Tightening my grip on the tinsel leash, I yank her closer, burying myself deep inside her as I release with a guttural roar that echoes through the empty room.
Xena’s body continues to writhe beneath me, caught in the throes of a climax I prolong with each measured thrust of my hips. The wooden floor beneath us creaks, slick with sweat, barely holding up under the force of our violent rhythm. Every movement feels like it's on the edge of breaking—her, the floor, the entire moment.
"Roman!" she screams once more as I bite down on her shoulder again, hard enough to break the skin. My dick, now softening, slips out of her, and I release her. She collapses onto the floor, spent, her body trembling with aftershocks.
"You still take everything I have to give, don’t you?" I murmur, nudging her with my foot to roll her over. She grins, the beauty mark on her lip stretching as she whispers, "Fuck you."
I can’t help but laugh at that. "You did," I reply, my voice rough. "You fucked me over and over until my dick was raw, and I felt like every second of those ten years I was locked up was exorcised from my body, one thrust at a time."
I watch her, sprawled on the floor, her skin shimmering in the dim light. The tinsel is tangled in her dark hair, catching the light like some fallen star. Her beauty is a contradiction—soft features marred by the rawness of our encounter, the perfect image of a broken doll.
I take a step back, my knees weak, threatening to buckle. But we need food before the weather turns worse, and I still have to fix that window, tarp it before the storm hits. Steeling myself, I scoop her up, her body limp in my arms, and carry her to Pop’s room. Her breathing is heavy, eyes half-lidded as I lay her down.
This time, I use Christmas lights to bind her wrists, ensuring she stays put. I brush a stray lock of hair from her face, my fingers lingering on her flushed cheek. "You’re going to get cleaned up, and I’ll make sure of that," I whisper, my voice carrying a note of finality.
She blinks up at me, her eyes glazed with exhaustion and something else—something that makes my chest tighten. "Roman…" she starts, but I cut her off with a quick kiss to her temple .
"Rest," I command softly, tightening the lights just enough to keep her still. "You’re not going anywhere."
As I pull back, I can’t resist one last look at her—bound, vulnerable, and utterly spent. She’s mine, and I’ll keep her that way, no matter what it takes.