I should've known better.
I should've seen it coming, the storm behind his eyes. The violent tempest that lurked behind the soft-spoken threats, the poisonous words that slipped from his mouth like honey laced with venom. But I didn't. I was too blinded by the fleeting hope that, maybe, just maybe, there was a shred of humanity left in him.
Now I was trapped in his suffocating grip and the brutal reality was sinking in. There was no humanity. Not in him. Not in the man who stood before me now, he was a monster dressed in the skin of someone I once thought I could understand.
Hell.
Yes. He was hell.
th his touch. He wasn't holding me anymore-he was claiming me, as if every bruise and mark was a reminder of his twisted ownership.
I wanted to scream, to lash out, but I couldn't. The force of his hand on my throat was too much, the pressure unbearable. My vision was going dark around the edges, and I could feel my strength slipping away.
Just as I thought I might pass out, he released me, letting me crumple to the floor in a gasping, trembling heap. I coughed, clutching at my throat, my chest heaving as I fought to suck in air.
But he wasn't done. Not by a long shot.
He crouched down in front of me, tilting his head as he watched me struggle. "You hate me, don't you?" he asked, his voice soft, almost gentle. "You hate every inch of me. Every word. Every touch."
I couldn't answer. I didn't have the courage or strength.
"But you know what?" His fingers brushed a strand of hair from my face, his touch deceptively tender. "That's okay. Because the more you hate me, the more you'll need me." He leaned in, his lips ghosting over mine, his breath hot against my skin. "The more you'll crave me."
I whimpered, trying to push him away, but he grabbed my wrists, pinning them to the floor with ease. "Shh," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of my mouth. "Don't fight it. Don't fight me."
Tears slipped down my cheeks, and I squeezed my eyes shut, praying for this to end. But deep down, I knew it wouldn't. Not as long as he had me.
Not as long as he owned me.
"The more you fight, the badly I want to clip your little wings."
"You think you're some kind of god, don't you?" I spat, the words slipping out with venom, despite the fear that had wrapped itself around my heart. I could see the change in his eyes, that flicker of something dark and dangerous, but I didn't stop. "You're nothing but a pathetic, broken man hiding behind your cruelty."
The second the last word left my lips, his eyes narrowed to slits. Before I could blink, his hand shot out, gripping my arm like a vice. I gasped as he yanked me toward him, the force of his grip sending pain shooting through my shoulder.
"You just don't learn, do you?" he hissed, his voice low, terrifyingly controlled.
Before I knew what was happening, he hoisted me into the air as if I weighed nothing, and then I was airborne. The next moment, I slammed onto the bed with a dull thud, my breath rushing out of me. Panic seized my chest, but my instincts kicked in. I scrambled, trying to crawl away, but he was faster. Always faster.
His hands were on me in an instant, fingers wrapping tightly around my ankles and dragging me back toward the edge of the bed. A scream tore from my throat, but it only seemed to fuel him. His grip tightened, pulling me closer, and I felt his breath hot against my skin, every movement dripping with raw, unfiltered power.
"No!" I screamed, kicking and thrashing, desperate to free myself. But he didn't relent. With a swift, brutal motion, his other hand fisted the fabric of my jeans, yanking them down in one fluid movement. The cold air hit my skin, and I felt exposed, vulnerable. Panic surged through me, but before I could react, he had me on my knees, bent over the edge of the bed.
I clawed at the sheets, trying to pull myself forward, but he was right there behind me, his body was overwhelming and suffocating me in darkness. His hand twisted in my hair, jerking my head back as a low snarl rumbled from deep within his chest.
"You just don't get it, do you?" His voice was thick with a feral, unhinged rage. "I don't care what you think of me. I don't care what you say." He yanked harder on my hair, forcing a whimper from my throat as he leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "But I don't share, Fenochka. I never fucking share. Not with that bastard at least."
I gritted my teeth, trying to fight the tears that blurred my vision. "You're insane!"
His hands were everywhere, moving with brutal efficiency, each touch filled with an undercurrent of twisted ownership. I struggled against him, my body rebelling against the helplessness that pinned me down. But he was stronger. He always was. No matter how hard I fought, it never seemed to matter. His control was absolute, his power was unbearable.
"You can fucking fight all you want," he growled, his fingers digging into my skin as he pressed me harder against the bed. "I'll enjoy breaking the spirit in you."
I thrashed beneath him, trying to wrench myself free. "I'll never belong to you! You're nothing but a brute-"
I didn't get to finish. His hand shot up to my mouth, silencing me with a force that sent fear shooting down my spine.
"Shut. Up." His voice was deadly calm, the kind of calm that was far worse than any scream. "You don't get to talk. Not when you've done nothing but fucking provoke me."
I could feel the tremble in his grip, the way his entire body vibrated with barely controlled rage. He was a powder keg, and I had lit the fuse. But instead of fear, something else rose up within me. Defiance.
"Do it then," I gasped out, my voice muffled by his hand but still filled with venom. "Do whatever you need to do, you sick bastard. But it won't change anything. I'll never break for you. And I will never belong to you."
For a moment, there was silence. Then, without warning, he yanked my hair back harder, forcing me to arch painfully against him.
His grip on my hair tightened, pulling me to the brink of tears. "You'll break, little bird. You'll break because I'll make sure of it. You'll shatter under me until there's nothing left but pieces, and then I'll pick them up. One. By. One."
All I could hear was my cries and rapid breathing as he pushed my head away. My face hit the cold mattresses and hands flared. "Do your worst, but I'll never accept you willingly."
Judas sneered into my ears. "You are mine, ptichka. In fact you were mine the moment I laid eyes on you, so it's best to accept it."
"No."
His hot, threatening breath tickled the side of my face. "Say it. Say that you're mine."
I whimpered, but didn't let his anger scare me. "No."
"Fenochka… you really don't want to anger me more than I already am."
"You'll hurt ne anyway, so do it. Fuck me. Punish me. Do whatever you want and leave me alone."
I locked my gaze on his, refusing to break as his eyes darken with a dangerous intensity. It was a risk, challenging him like this, but I had no choice. I couldn't let him take what little I have left. If I let my guard down, even for a second, he'd tear me apart, crush what remains of me, and leave me to rot in a locked room like I was nothing.
Judas smirked, his lips twisting with cruel amusement. "So eager for punishment, are we?" His voice was low, teasing, as he let my head fall back onto the pillow. The cool leather of his belt brushed against my bare skin, trailing slowly down my spine. My body betrayed me, shivering under the touch, reacting instinctively to him.
And I didn't realise when he took off his belt.
It was scary how he could easily overpower me, thrown me down and own me.
His fist tightened around my panties before ripping them away in one swift motion. The tattered fabric brushed over my sensitive skin, and I couldn't help the sharp intake of breath that followed. It didn't matter how many times he had done this, how many pairs he's ruined-it never failed to send a shiver of terror through me.
"When I tell you to do something, you obey. No hesitation. No attitude. Do you fucking understand?" His voice was unnervingly calm, matching the steady rhythm of his belt gliding over the curve of my back, grazing the swell of my ass.
"You should've picked a doll for that, not me," I bite back.
The sound of the belt slicing through the air comes a split second before it cracked down against my skin. I cried out, the sharp sting spreading over me, igniting a pain that rushed straight to my core.
He was merciless. Brutal and cruel.
"Watch your mouth," he growled, his grip tightening.
"I won't let you break me," I panted waiting for another strike. I didn't know where this defiance was coming from but I wouldn't let him destroy him.