I felt her walls starting to spasm around me, clenching tight. I leaned close to her ear, whispering hot. "Scream for me, Noelle. I love hearing you lose it."
She shattered then, her body convulsing as the orgasm hit her hard. Her cries echoed in the garage, raw and unrestrained, just like I wanted. I didn't let up, driving through it, chasing my own release while she trembled beneath me.
Chapter Sixteen
Noelle
He wasn't stopping.
Kholod's scorching breath burned against my neck as his hands traced every inch of my skin with deliberate possession. The garage lights blazed so bright I could barely keep my eyes open, and there he was, pinning me down, amber eyes churning with emotions I couldn't decipher.
"Kholod..." My voice came out hoarse. "Enough..."
"Not enough." He lowered his head, pressing a kiss to my collarbone. "Not even close."
I tried to push him away, but my body betrayed me with its trembling. That man's touch still clung to my waist like something vile, but when Kholod's fingers covered the spot, the nausea began to fade. His touch was rough, demanding—yet somehow it cleansed every trace of disgust from my body.
"You're distracted?" He bit gently at my chest, pulling me back to reality.
"Mmm... Kholod..."
"Look at me." His command was absolute, one hand cupping my face, forcing our eyes to meet. "Noelle, look at me."
"What the hell are you thinking about?" He frowned.
"Nothing."
"Liar." His fingers slid to my waist, pressing exactly where I'd been grabbed. "Still thinking about that piece of trash?"
"No—"
"Then why are you so tense?" His lips brushed my ear. "Relax, Noelle. I'm the only one who gets to touch you."
That possessive declaration brought an absurd sense of safety. I should hate him—he'd destroyed my family, humiliated me in front of everyone. But he'd also saved me, snapped that man's wrist, carried me away, claimed me in the most insane way possible.
"Kholod..." I heard my voice shake. "You..."
"Hmm?" He looked up, eyes burning into mine.
I bit my lip, not knowing what to say, not even knowing what I wanted to say.
He seemed to read my confusion, lips quirking up. "Don't talk."
His kiss came again, impossibly gentle this time. Tongues dancing, exploring, until I melted completely in his arms.
Damn it. Kholod Morozov always knew how to control me.
When his fingers slipped inside again, I couldn't hold back a broken moan.
"See?" he whispered against my ear, voice rough as gravel. "Your body's still hungry."
"Shut up..."
"Why?" He grabbed my hand, making me feel how wet I was. "Don't you like it?"
"I... ah—"
He guided my fingers, finding that spot that made me lose all control, rubbing in maddening circles. My back arched involuntarily, nails digging into his skin.
