Snapping Point||Book 1

41.

Romano De Rossi

Scooping her up in my arms and carrying her through the threshold with quick and stumbling strides, her lips pressed against mine, I reached for the switch in my bedroom here and flicked on the lights. It was still broad daylight, yes, but I wanted to lay eyes on it all—her true beauty underneath that dress she wore.

I hadn't felt so fanatical about fucking a woman since I was a teenager, because I hadn't encountered a woman who drove me to the edge without even trying. But this was effortless, magnetic, unreal.

After Vilma, years ago, everything seemed to come to a standstill. Attachment, interest, delight—all replaced with less vigorous emotions. I surely hadn't minded not being able to feel them all. I was content with less, after learning the price for more. So, that youthful exuberance had long faded. If I held a woman now, it wasn't because the flames around our affair burned brighter than my cigarette; it was simply primal instinct to live in the moment, not to feel, not to hope for more, not to commit.

But in this exact moment, as I set Xenia down and undressed her with my eyes, I felt the rush... call it a flame, thrill, call it what you will, it definitely did ripple through me so fiercely I wanted to tear her apart in return.

Those eyes of hers... damn it. Her composure and gentleness made it all too tempting to act on impulse. I'd made easy decisions, and I'd made tough ones. This one, however, to stand here with her and let my morality slip away, was both the simplest and most difficult choice I'd ever confronted.

Her uncertainty was written plainly on her face, and it was nothing short of amusing. Since the first day of our reunion, my wedding day, I'd observed the urge in her eyes to tread dangerously around my territory, but only now did I detect a hint of hesitation.

Why desire something so strongly, only to nearly be tempted to reject it when it's right in front of you?

A living paradox.

"Turn around," I demanded, not waiting for her to comply. I took matters into my own hands, forcefully guiding her to face away from me, and I unzipped her dress myself.

Taking in the sight of her flawless and soft back, I couldn't help but whisper, "You're dangerously beautiful. I can't explain how that's possible."

I couldn't explain why I was feeling so impulsive either. Normally, I'd carefully contemplate my decisions before acting on them. But ever since Xenia entered the picture, I'd made more reckless choices than I had in my thirty-two years. And now, I was about to make another by fucking Ivan's secret agent, a member of the IP, his own niece.

I ran a finger down her spine to mirror the chill in mine.

Was I deluding myself into believing that Xenia felt just as reckless, or was I simply too impatient to seize this fleeting moment because I knew it wouldn't come around again? Was this a case of living in the present, without hoping for more, without desiring anything beyond physical pleasure?

I couldn't answer myself. Hell, I couldn't even entertain another damn question that might shatter the image of her innocence in my mind and my desperate urge to strip it away. She was engraved in my mind as Xenia the innocent, incapable of wrongdoing. If she were to commit a crime, I'd likely justify it somehow before getting the full story because of the reasons behind it. It's because I desired her light, and because light couldn't exist without darkness, I held onto the hope that I could linger in the shadows to give her purpose.

As I yanked her dress down past her chest, I flung her bra to the floor and applied a delicate touch to her tits. Her nipples stiffened beneath my fingers. She squirmed but refrained from moaning. Doubt clouded her mind, and I couldn't deny that her exact thoughts mirrored my own.