Her eyes are wide and her mouth slightly open as she stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. Little does she know when you grow up the way I did, you’re always going to be at least a little unhinged. And I’ve always leaned into the more psychotic tendencies that call to me.
Snow’s entire body shakes like a leaf, to the point I worry she may be cold, but it’s just the adrenaline coursing through her veins, taking over every fiber of her being. Although I have taken more lives than I’ve cared to count, I can appreciate how hard this must be for her.
My dear Snowflake has lived a sheltered life. Her family has kept her away from the more unsavory parts of their legacy, and she’s managed to escape a lot of the usual realities of a Mafia princess. But if she’s going to stand by my side, if she’s going to rule our kingdom with me, she needs to get very familiar with those sides of the business.
I brush my fingers down her cheek, cutting through the tears as they fall. She’s beautiful when she cries. Her vulnerability only makes my cock harden further and knowing she’s naked beneath her robe only makes me want to pick her up and slide right into her wet heat.
She closes her eyes, breaking the contact and a rough growl claws up my throat. She’s hiding from me, trying to put up walls so I won’t see her fall apart. But I want to see it. I want to tear Snow apart until she’s nothing, and then build her up until she’s the queen I know she can be.
“Snowflake,” I murmur, my fingers trailing down until they wrap gently around her throat. Her eyes pop open as if remembering she shouldn’t turn her back on the monster who keeps her captive. “I’m sure you must be very upset right now—”
“Upset?” she squeaks, her arms squeezing between us in an attempt to shove me away. “You think I’m upset? I just killed a man. I just ended someone’s life. He could have a wife and children! He probably has parents who never got to say goodbye to him. I’m much more than upset.”
The fire burning in her eyes makes it that much harder to stop myself from pulling my sweatpants down and slamming into her cunt. She looks like she’s ready to punch me in the face, and I wish she would. I crave the pain, need it even, and having it dished out by Snow would only make it that much better.
I fight the smirk tugging at my lips, hoping my amusement isn’t too clear in my eyes.
“I hate you,” Snow yells, the venom in her voice like a slap to the face. “I fucking hate you. All you’ve brought me is pain. You stole me from my life. You’re threatening to keep me from my family if I don’t marry you, and you just forced me to kill someone. I hate you so fucking much.”
This is the Snow Saint James I crave. The one who is so angry at the world, angry at everything, and that shows it without thinking to hide that part of herself. I’ve seen snippets of this version of her over the years, small moments where I saw the window into her soul. Underneath all the beauty and the image she portrays to the world is the most vibrant and extraordinary woman I’ve ever seen. She’s strong and confident, full of fire and passion, and she’s the woman I want by my side for the rest of our lives. She’s the woman I want as the mother of my children.
One of her hands snakes out from my hold, and a moment later her fist connects with my cheek. The way her face twists in agony I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s broken her hand, but the movement is hot as hell and before I can think twice about it, I’m tightening my hand around her throat and grinding my rock-hard length against her. The robe rises with each grind, and I’m tempted to tear the thing from her body and claim her the way I’ve craved since the moment I slid the needle into her neck and she lost consciousness in my arms. But I manage to hold on to my carefully crafted composure.
“Is that how you want it, Snow?” I growl, my fingers biting into the soft flesh until I’m sure my fingerprints will be burned into her skin.
“I want you to let me go. I want to go back to my life. I want to go back to a time before I knew what it felt like to murder a man. Those are all things I want,” she hisses, her voice croaking from the pressure on her throat. If I had it my way she would be on her knees putting her mouth to better use, but right now I have a better idea. If she wants to see me as a monster, that’s exactly what I’ll be.
I shove her back toward my office, her feet tripping over themselves as she stumbles in front of me. Her body stiffens in my hold and her fear permeates the air. I can almost hear her thoughts. Have I pushed him too hard? Is he going to kill me?
No, my sweet Snowflake. I’m not going to kill you. I’m going to claim you. I’m going to stake my claim on every bit of your delectable body and allow the baser parts of me to come out to play. And you’re going to love every single second of it.
