CHAPTER 8
ZION
I couldn’t sit there any longer, the weight of Snowflake’s gaze burning into me. Her piercing blue eyes seemed to cut through me, making my skin prickle with discomfort. No matter how hard I tried to ignore her, I felt the intensity of her stare—a stark reminder of how much I resented her presence in my life.
Despite her undeniable beauty, her inner self was nothing but a reflection of ugliness. She was a constant reminder of the turmoil she had caused, embodying nothing but bitterness and deceit.
“Are you just going to stare at me?” I finally snapped, trying to break the suffocating silence. “Or do you have something to say?”
“Well um,” she began, her voice soft but steady, “this place is nice, and the food’s great, even though I barely touched mine.” She managed a weak smile, her attempt at small talk falling flat. “I just thought I’d mention it.”
I shot her a sharp look, my patience wearing thin. “I’m not in the fucking mood for small talk, Snowflake. Just stop.”
Turning my head to escape her gaze, I noticed the waitress from earlier glancing at me with a seductive smile. Her attention pulled me out of my frustration, and I couldn’t help but return her smile.
“Fuck this,” I snap, pushing my nearly empty plate away and shoving my chair back with such force that it clatters to the floor. “Fuck this family breakfast.”
“Where are you going?” Snowflake’s voice, soft but laced with concern, pierced through the tension, only adding to my frustration.
I turned sharply and crouched to meet her eyes, the sweet scent of vanilla and roses from her perfume hitting me. I inhaled deeply, trying to steady myself before I remembered who she was.
“Why the fuck would I tell you where I’m going? Stay out of my business, Snowflake,” I snapped. Her eyes widened in shock.
I held her gaze for a moment longer, letting my irritation settle in her expression before turning away. I grabbed the waitress’s hand and led her out of the restaurant, heading straight to the reception desk and demanding a room.
HOTEL ROOM
The waitress Donna, Diana or whatever murmurs,
"You're so big," as she gazes up at me with her big brown eyes from where she kneels on the ground.
It's almost as if she's bowing to me, making me feel good. I discard the absurd tie my mother forced me to wear to his ridiculous so-called family fucking breakfast, and I reach for her, grasping her chin between my fingers.
She's attractive enough, with her red lips and those eyes that seem to promise everything and nothing at the same time.
"You'll have my me in your mouth soon enough," I retort, my voice tinged with irritation. I'm not usually this much of a jerk, but today is different.
Today, I’m hanging on by a thread, and it’s all because of her.
Snowflake—both a dream and a nightmare entwined into one.
Eight years should have dulled the sting of pain, anger, and betrayal, but now that she’s under my roof, parading around as if she belongs here has only reignited the long-dormant flames of resentment in my heart.
Her bastard of a father marrying my mother was like adding a new blade to an old wound—another way to fuel my rage. I’m convinced it was a calculated move by both of them to drive a wedge between my parents.
Flicking the button on my dress slacks, I watch Donna’s eyes light up with eager anticipation. I plan to use her for my pleasure and then discard her, just as I do with all the other fleeting girls who come and go. Sleeping with them offers a temporary thrill, but their whining and tears afterwards are nothing more than a hassle.
I pull my boxers down and take out my hard cock, giving it a few firm strokes to get it ready. As pre-cum beads at the tip, a groan escapes me when the girl's warm mouth envelops it.
She eagerly takes me in, her pink tongue teasing the slit before sliding down further. Damn, she’s skilled—like a porn star. Her technique is why I call on her for blow jobs; she sucks with an intensity that reminds me of a vacuum cleaner. The sound she makes when she gags on my length sends shivers of pleasure through me.
For a fleeting moment, the anger and resentment I harbour towards my father for his accident and the way he left me with that bastard of a stepfather fade away. Instead, my thoughts inevitably drift to Snowflake—my once best friend and now my stepsister.
This morning, Snowflake looked stunning, her curves accentuated and her hair styled into soft curls, making her appear like an angel. But beneath that facade, she’s anything but innocent. She’s a deceitful, cruel presence wrapped in an alluring package.
Even though I have no intention of involving her in any intimate way, I can’t help but imagine her in a different light. The thought of her kneeling before me, those wide blue eyes gazing up as I dominate her, forces me to confront the fantasies and anger I have toward her. My eyes shut, and all I can picture is her, the fantasy of her submission haunting my mind.
Thrusting my hips with intense force, I let the overwhelming pleasure consume me, my head tipping back as waves of euphoria wash over me.
All I can see is Snowflake’s piercing blue eyes and her flawless skin, but Debra's warm mouth around my cock and the forbidden thoughts in my mind send me into a shattering climax.
I roar as I release into the back of her throat, and though she gags, she swallows around my softening length.
I stagger back, my cock slipping from her red-painted lips, my heart pounding heavily in my chest. As the pleasure fades, I quickly adjust my boxers and dress slacks.
Snowflake’s mere presence has already affected me, even though she hasn’t said much. The worst part is that despite my hatred for her, my mind keeps conjuring images of her in a submissive position.
I can feel the girl’s gaze boring into me, her eyes burning through my clothes and into my skin.
“What about me?” she pouts, her voice laced with frustration.
“What about you, Diane?” I ask, tucking my shirt back in.
“It’s Susan!” she snaps, her irritation palpable.
I almost thought her name started with a 'D'. Well, whatever.
“Find someone else. My friend Clarke is on his way; I’m sure he’ll give you a good time.” My response doesn’t sit well with her. She pushes herself off the floor, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her anger evident.
“Why are you being such a jerk?” she asks, adjusting her waitress uniform. Despite my reputation, I’m not exactly renowned for my tact.
A smirk spreads across my lips. “I’m just being myself, sweetheart. Now, get out of here and make sure no one sees you leave.” She rolls her eyes but follows my instructions, hurrying out of the room as if escaping a fire. The door clicks shut behind her, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I exhale sharply, running a hand through my tousled brown hair. The girl was pretty enough—most of the women I’ve been with are—but none of them are her.
Winter.
Snowflake.