Chapter 3 #2
"No, Noelle, pets are for pampering." He leaned in closer, hands still braced, trapping me. "You..."
He bent to my ear, his voice a devilish whisper. "You're for taming."
"Who the hell do you think you are, trampling my dignity like this?!" His words ignited a fury in me, and I struggled more fiercely.
"Dignity?" He straightened, towering over me. "We don't need that useless crap between us."
He lowered his head to kiss me; I jerked my face away. The scorching kiss landed on my cheek, the cigar scent making me shudder.
"Let go!" I shoved him with all my strength.
My resistance seemed to set him ablaze. He abandoned the kiss, instead yanking me away from the wall like an object and hurling me toward the massive bed.
Caught off guard, I fell backward, crashing onto the mattress that sank like quicksand.
Before I could recover, he was on top of me, his massive frame pinning me down.
Rip—
The fragile silk of the nightgown tore apart in his hands. Cold air enveloped my exposed skin, making me shiver uncontrollably.
"You bastard!" I raised my hand to strike him, but he caught my wrist effortlessly and pinned it above my head.
He forced his knee between my thighs, hands braced on either side of me, his amber eyes churning with raw, undisguised desire.
Even enduring this brutal treatment, even with fear and hatred raging inside me.
But as my gaze drifted over his face, vivid with lust and devastatingly handsome, a forbidden thrill stirred deep within me.
I must be insane.
How could I feel this way for my father's killer?
Kholod's hands began to roam, rough and demanding, mapping the curves of my body as if he owned every inch.
His fingers trailed down my sides, teasing the remnants of my torn nightgown before stripping it away entirely, leaving me bare and vulnerable beneath him.
The air crackled with electric tension, and I despised how my skin tingled under his touch, betraying my resolve.
He smirked, that cruel glint lingering in his eyes, as he captured my lips in a punishing kiss.
I resisted, biting back, but he only deepened it, his tongue claiming my mouth with the taste of cigar smoke and unyielding dominance.
One hand cupped my breast, his thumb circling the nipple until it peaked, sending unwelcome sparks of pleasure shooting through me.
"Fuck, you're so responsive," he growled against my lips, pulling back to drag biting kisses down my neck, leaving stinging marks that blurred the line between pain and arousal.
His other hand ventured lower, slipping between my thighs, fingers brushing my core.
I gasped, my body arching involuntarily.
He let out a dark chuckle, pressing a finger inside, probing.
"Not so unwilling after all, huh? Look at you, already dripping wet for me.
" His voice was rough, triumphant. "Why is that, Noelle?
You claim to hate me, but your body's screaming for more. "
I whimpered, loathing the truth he exposed, the slick evidence of my arousal.
He added a second finger, pumping slowly, stretching me with deliberate thrusts that made my hips buck against my will.
The foreplay was merciless; he scissored his fingers, curling them to stroke that sensitive spot inside, making stars explode behind my eyelids.
His mouth descended on my breast, sucking hard, teeth grazing the taut peak while his thumb worked relentless circles over my clit, coiling the tension until I was panting, my thighs quivering uncontrollably.
But he wasn't satisfied yet. He withdrew briefly, reaching for the nightstand drawer—always one step ahead, the bastard.
He pulled out a sleek vibrator, high-end silicone with multiple settings, switching it on to a low hum that filled the room.
"Gonna open you up properly," he rasped, positioning it at my entrance, teasing before easing it in inch by inch, the vibrations rippling through my core like shockwaves.
I moaned, clenching around the intrusion, the fullness both foreign and intoxicating.
"Look at that," he murmured, his voice thick with smug satisfaction as he observed my every twitch.
"So fucking tight... shit, you're a virgin, aren't you?
This virgin pussy's been waiting for me all along.
" He twisted the toy deeper, cranking up the intensity, his free hand holding my hip steady as I writhed beneath him.
"God, that gets me hard. Knowing I'm the first to take you like this.
See how it's gripping? It's begging for me, Noelle.
You've been saving yourself for this moment, haven't you? "
His filthy, possessive words only heightened the ache, making me even wetter.
He thrust the vibrator in and out, building me toward the edge with ruthless precision, until I was a writhing mess of desperate pleas and gasps, the boundaries between hatred and desire dissolving into haze.
"Please..." I didn't even know what I was begging for anymore.
At last, he discarded the toy, stripping off his clothes in a frenzy—shirt torn open, pants shoved down, revealing his thick, throbbing cock, veins pulsing, tip slick with precum.
He aligned himself, rubbing the head against my soaked folds.
"Ready for the real thing?" he taunted, then pushed in slowly, inch by agonizing inch.
I bit back a cry of pain as he stretched me, the burn intense, my body resisting the invasion.
But even through the discomfort, something primal shifted—my hips rose instinctively, welcoming him deeper, my walls clenching around him.
"Fuck, so damn tight," he groaned, holding still for a moment to let me adjust, though not for long.
My nails dug into his back, raking down his spine, leaving angry red trails.
He grinned, savage and delighted. "Yeah, that's it—mark me.
Show me how much you crave this." His thrusts intensified, slamming harder and deeper, the bedframe creaking under the force.
The wet slap of skin against skin echoed through the room, mingling with my moans and his guttural grunts.
He adjusted his angle, hitting that perfect spot with every punishing stroke, driving me toward oblivion.
Sweat-slicked bodies moved in frantic rhythm, the air thick with the musk of sex and lingering cigar.
I hated him, but God, the way he filled me, claimed me—it was all-consuming.
His mouth returned to my neck, sucking dark bruises, murmuring filthy endearments.
"Take every inch, Noelle. This pussy belongs to me now. "
The ferocity mounted, emotions tangling in a storm of hate, lust, and vengeance.
But suddenly, my breath caught, a familiar constriction gripping my chest. Asthma.
Damn it, not now. My vision darkened at the edges, breathing turning shallow and labored, my face paling to a sickly blue as panic flooded in.
Desperately, I reached for the nightstand, fumbling blindly for my inhaler.
Kholod didn't notice at first, too lost in the heat, driving into me with deep, relentless thrusts.
But then he felt my body tense, heard the wheezing rasp.
"Noelle?" He pulled back, eyes widening in alarm as he saw me gasping, hand scrambling.
He snatched the inhaler from the drawer—somehow knowing exactly where it was—and pressed it into my trembling fingers.
I grabbed it frantically, inhaling deeply like my life depended on it, the medicated mist surging into my lungs. It triggered a violent coughing fit, tears and sweat streaming down my face in a chaotic mess. I looked utterly wrecked, gasping and shuddering in the aftermath.
A flicker of something like heartache crossed his eyes, perhaps even remorse.
He leaned down, gently brushing soaked strands from my forehead, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
"Breathe, Noelle. Slow and easy. I've got you.
" His thumb stroked my cheek tenderly as I coughed and gradually steadied my breaths.
Once the attack passed, my breathing normalizing, he shifted, still buried inside me, hard and insistent. "We can continue now."
I lashed out instinctively, my foot kicking up and connecting with his groin—not enough to seriously injure, but enough to make him grunt in pain. "You bastard!"
He winced but let out a dark, rumbling laugh.
"Feisty as ever. Looks like you're eager for more.
" Brushing off my protest, he resumed his movements, but gentler this time—slow, languid thrusts that stoked a different kind of flame.
His hands caressed rather than restrained, lips grazing mine in unexpectedly soft kisses.
The tenderness was disorienting, clashing with everything I knew of him.
We built toward climax together, unhurried, until ecstasy crashed over us—me tightening around him in waves, him spilling deep inside with a low groan. As he collapsed beside me, he drew me into his arms, whispering against my ear. "You can't die. In my world, you don't have that privilege."