Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Noelle
Kholod's voice was eerily calm, yet every word sliced like a blade of ice.
I stared at the bracelet in his hand, my mind a whirlwind of confusion.
That style of bracelet—it must have been one of the pieces my mother bought for me back then. But the exact design? I couldn't remember it at all.
Growing up, Mother had loaded me up with countless pieces of jewelry, clothes, and bags—all to help me snag a spot in some rich family. She called them "necessary investments," essentials for fitting into high society. I'd never cared; they were just extensions of her own ambitions.
"I told you," I lifted my head, meeting those amber eyes burning with rage, "I really don't remember."
"Don't remember?" He sneered. "Or too scared to admit it?"
"Kholod! What the hell are you obsessing over?" I raised my voice. "I've had tons of jewelry my whole life—similar bracelets alone, at least half a dozen. How could I possibly remember every single one?!"
"Then why not just deny it outright?" He stepped closer, his gaze dangerous. "The first time I showed up with this bracelet, why didn't you flat-out say 'that's not mine'?"
"I never admitted it!" I backed up until my back hit the dresser. "You decided that all on your own!"
He held the bracelet right in my face, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Noelle Bellucci, you think I'd buy that bullshit?"
I finally exploded. "Kholod Morozov, you've been talking to yourself from the start! You showed up with that bracelet, insisting I'm your savior! I said I don't remember, but you had to pin it on me!"
"So you just went along with it?" His eyes darkened, turning sinister. "Let me think you were the one?"
"Went along with what?!" I practically yelled. "I've been rejecting you the whole time! I said I wouldn't marry you! You threatened me, used my family's debts to force me! This is all your doing!"
"And the bracelet?" He grabbed my shoulders hard enough to nearly make me yelp in pain. "Why'd it end up with Isabella?"
Isabella? What did she tell him?
"I..."
"You what?" He pressed. "Spit it out! Did you know all along that bracelet wasn't yours?!"
"I don't know!" I struggled to shake off his grip. "I really don't!"
"Still lying!" His voice turned frantic, shoving me toward the bed. "Noelle, how long are you gonna keep this act up?!"
I stumbled back, my calf hitting the bedframe, and I lost my balance, crashing onto the mattress.
Before I could react, he was on me, pinning me down.
"Let me go!" I shoved at his chest. "Kholod, what the fuck's wrong with you?!"
"Wrong with me?" He laughed coldly, grabbing my wrists with one hand and slamming them above my head. "I'm just realizing I've been a joke from the start!"
"You are a joke!" I fired back in fury. "A joke who latches onto a bracelet and calls someone his savior! A stalker who watches people like a creep! An arrogant—"
"Enough!"
His roar made my ears ring.
The next second, I heard fabric ripping.
The sound tore through the air.
My nightgown split open, cold air hitting my skin, and I shivered uncontrollably.
"Kholod! You psycho! Let me go!" I thrashed wildly.
He pinned my legs with his knee, holding me still.
His gaze dropped to my chest—those two Cyrillic tattoos, stark under the light.
"Look at this," he said, his fingers roughly grinding over the skin. I gasped in pain. "Where do you think you're running to? Noelle, you've been mine for a while now."
"I'm not yours!" I glared at him, tears welling up. "You forced me!"
"Not?" He smirked. "Then what's this? Just decoration?"
His fingers pressed hard on the tattoo, then circled around, brushing the tip of my breast accidentally. A tingle shot through me, and I stifled a moan.
"Kholod..." I clenched my teeth. "Why not go after Isabella? She's your real savior, so why get worked up over me?"
I regretted it the instant it left my mouth.
He froze, his whole body rigid. Rage exploded in his eyes like a volcano.
"Looks like," his voice dropped low and terrifying, each word dragged from his throat, "I need to show you why in a way you'll understand."
He leaned down and bit hard into the tattoo on my chest.
"Ah—!" Pain ripped a scream from me.
I tried to break free, but he held me down like iron.
He lifted his head, those amber eyes now dark as an abyss.
"Don't even think about shoving me off to someone else," he growled, his breath hot against my skin.
He bent lower, his tongue flicking out to lick the tattoo, slow and deliberate.
The bite mark throbbed, a sharp pain mingling with an itchy numbness that spread like wildfire through my body.
It hurt, but the sensation twisted into something else—my skin flushing, heat pooling between my legs as my nipples hardened in the cool air.
I bit my lip hard, trying to hold back, but a soft whimper escaped anyway, my hips shifting involuntarily.
"See? You're such a slut," Kholod murmured, his voice laced with mockery as he watched my body react. "I barely touch you, and you're already soaking wet, squirming like you can't get enough."
Fury surged through me like a storm. How dare he talk to me like that? I kicked out hard, my foot connecting with his crotch by accident. He grunted in pain, but instead of pulling away, he snatched my ankle in a vise-like grip, his fingers digging in.
"So eager to please," he said with a twisted grin, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "Guess I need to find a way to make you behave."
He yanked my hands higher, binding them securely to the headboard with silk ties—tight and unyielding, cutting off any chance of escape.
Then he reached into the nightstand drawer, pulling out two metal cuffs.
He snapped them around my ankles, spreading my legs wide apart and chaining each one to the bedposts at the foot of the bed.
With a rough, deliberate tug, he stripped away the tattered remnants of my nightgown, along with my underwear, leaving me completely naked and exposed, every inch of my body on display.
I was splayed open, vulnerable and humiliated, shame burning through me like acid alongside the raw anger.
My core ached from the earlier teasing, and now with my legs forced apart, I felt utterly powerless.
"If you can't handle this, just kill me!
" I spat, my voice trembling with rage and defiance.
He chuckled darkly, the sound low and menacing. "Oh, I'll kill you—but not like that. I'll fuck the life out of you instead, make you scream until you can't anymore."
Before I could even process his words, he grabbed something else from the drawer—a small, sleek vibrating ball.
He held it up for me to see, his smirk widening, then, without ceremony, he pushed it deep inside me, the cool intrusion making me gasp and arch against the restraints.
He flicked on the remote, and it buzzed to life, sending intense vibrations rippling through my core, hitting every sensitive spot with relentless precision.
He stepped back, arms crossed, just watching me like I was his personal entertainment.
The vibrations built quickly, mercilessly, my body responding against my will—hips bucking, muscles clenching as waves of pleasure crashed over me.
I twitched and writhed, the cuffs rattling, drawing closer and closer to the edge, my breath coming in desperate pants.
I was right there, teetering on the brink of release—then he stopped it.
Completely. The sudden absence left me hanging, frustrated, and aching.
"Now," he said, leaning in close, his face inches from mine, "do you want to die?"
I glared at him through the haze of denied pleasure, my body screaming for more.
Anger boiled over, mixed with this infuriating annoyance—I hated him for edging me like this, for leaving me so close yet so unsatisfied.
It was torture, and the frustration only fueled my rage.
"Just strangle me, you bastard! End it!"
That clearly pissed him off. His eyes narrowed to slits, fury flashing in those amber depths.
Without a word, he hit the remote again, cranking the intensity higher this time.
The egg thrummed back to life inside me, vibrating fiercely, pushing me right back toward the peak even faster.
My body betrayed me completely, trembling and arching, sweat beading on my skin as the pleasure built to an unbearable crescendo.
I was gasping, moaning despite myself, muscles clenching tight, so damn close—and he killed it again, leaving me whimpering in agonized frustration.
"Still want to die?" he repeated, his voice edged with barely contained anger, hovering over me like a predator.
This time, I couldn't take it anymore. The repeated denial had set every nerve on fire, my body a throbbing mess of need. The ache was too much, the frustration twisting into desperate longing. "Please... just kill me," I whispered, my voice breaking, tears of humiliation stinging my eyes.
"How?" he demanded, his tone rough and insistent, leaning closer, his breath hot on my neck.
"Fuck me to death," I begged, the words tumbling out in a rush of desperation. "Please, Kholod—fuck me until I'm dead."
He grinned, triumphant and predatory. "That's more like it, you needy little thing."
He stripped off his clothes quickly, his cock already hard and throbbing, veins pulsing with anticipation.
Without warning, he positioned himself between my spread legs and slammed into me, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. I cried out at the sudden stretch, the fullness overwhelming, filling every inch of me.
He didn't hold back, pounding into me with raw force, each thrust deep and punishing, claiming me completely.
"Look at you, taking my cock like the whore you are," he growled, one hand pinching my nipple hard, twisting it until I yelped. "Begging for it after all that attitude. You're mine, Noelle—say it, you filthy slut."
I moaned, the words choked out between gasps. "Yours..."
"Not good enough." He thrust harder, his pace brutal, his free hand sliding down to rub my clit in rough circles, amplifying the sensations until I was seeing stars.
The vibrating egg still hummed faintly inside me, syncing with his movements, driving me insane with overstimulation.
"Admit it—you're just a needy little slut, spreading your legs for the man who owns you.
You love being fucked like this, don't you?
Begging for my dick like a bitch in heat. "
Humiliation burned through me, twisting with the building ecstasy, but I couldn't deny how my body responded, clenching around him greedily. "Yes... fuck, yes," I gasped, hating myself for the admission, for how wet and eager I was.
He laughed low and dirty, his hips snapping forward with vicious intensity.
"That's right. No one else gets to touch this tight pussy.
It's mine to ruin, mine to fill whenever I want.
" He leaned in, biting down on my neck hard enough to leave another mark, sucking on the skin as he drove deeper, the bed creaking loudly under the force.
Sweat slicked our bodies, his grunts mixing with my desperate whimpers and moans.
He shifted his angle slightly, hitting that perfect spot inside me over and over, making sparks explode behind my eyes, building the pressure to an excruciating level.
I was lost in it, my body coiling tighter and tighter, the earlier denials making this climax build like a raging storm. Every thrust sent jolts of pleasure-pain through me, my bound limbs straining against the cuffs. "Kholod... please..."
"Beg for it, slut," he commanded, slowing just enough to tease, his cock dragging torturously in and out. "Tell me how bad you need to come all over my cock, how much you love being my fucktoy."
"I need it—fuck, I need to come! Please, Kholod, make me come!" The words spilled out, shameful and raw, my voice breaking on the plea.
He sped up immediately, relentless and unforgiving, his fingers digging into my hips as he fucked me harder, deeper. "Come for me, then. Show me you're my dirty little wife, clenching around me like the whore you are."
The orgasm hit like a freight train, ripping through me with shattering force, my walls clenching around him in spasms as I screamed his name, my body convulsing against the restraints.
Waves of ecstasy crashed over me, leaving me shaking and breathless, but he didn't stop—he pounded through it, extending the pleasure until I was oversensitive, whimpering and begging incoherently for mercy.
Finally, he tensed above me, his thrusts erratic as he chased his own release.
With a guttural groan, he buried himself deep one last time, spilling hot and thick inside me.
As he came, he leaned down, whispering in my ear, his voice hoarse and cruel.
"Remember, if you're not my savior, then to me, you're no different from those women who trade their bodies for favors. Be good, Noelle. Obey."
I lay there, spent and trembling, his words sinking into me like venom, the weight of his possession crushing.
He pulled out slowly, leaving me bound and exposed, my body still humming from the intensity, slick with sweat and evidence of our encounter.
The humiliation burned deep, but so did the twisted satisfaction, leaving me conflicted and raw.