The night wind howled as the car door was yanked open. In the next second, Noah was practically thrown into the passenger seat. Before he could even fumble for the seatbelt, the car lurched forward, tires screeching across the asphalt.
The violent jolt slammed his shoulder against the door. Pain shot through him as he turned his head. In the glow of the dashboard lights, Asher's face looked terrifyingly cold.
The air reeked of alcohol. Noah swallowed hard, his voice trembling. "You… you've been drinking?"
No answer. Asher's eyes stayed fixed on the road, Adam's apple rising and falling, breath heavy.
The car screeched to a halt in the underground garage. Just as Noah tried to speak, his wrist was seized and wrenched forward with bruising force.
"Asher—! You're hurting me—"
"Hurt?" His voice was a blade, cold and sharp. "This is nothing."
The elevator doors closed around them. The confined space pressed down like a cage.
Noah's back hit the metal wall, the chill seeping straight into his spine.
Asher's face was inches from his, eyes so dark they looked like they might devour him whole.
The bell dinged. Before Noah could gather his bearings, he was dragged out, stumbling, hauled all the way to the apartment.
The door slammed shut. In the next instant, Noah was shoved against the wall so hard his bones rattled.
"You—what are you doing?!" His breath came ragged, eyes wet with panic.
Asher lowered his head, his voice raw and ragged, almost a snarl. "Do you want to sleep with Ren?"
Noah froze, mind blank. What?
Asher's grip clamped around his jaw, strong enough to bruise. "Is that it? Trade your body for more chances? Let him touch you, f*ck you?"
"I'm not—" Noah's protest was cut off, his mouth crushed under Asher's.
It wasn't a kiss. It was a punishment. Teeth tore his lip, copper tang blooming between them.
Noah's head tipped back, breath stolen, his lips forced open as Asher devoured him. He struggled, finally shoving enough to break free.
His chest heaved, voice shaking. "Asher—please, calm down—"
"Calm down?" The words came with a cruel twist of his lips. "That's the last thing I intend to do."
He was dragged into the bedroom, shoved hard against the bed. The edge bit into his waist; he gasped in pain.
There was no pause. Clothes were ripped away, jacket, shirt, pants—torn from him piece by piece until the chill of the room bit at bare skin. Noah shivered, fever heat rising beneath the cold.
"Stop… I'm not feeling well…" His voice cracked, a fragile plea.
Asher didn't stop. His gaze burned with anger, with jealousy that consumed everything.
His mouth closed brutally on Noah's shoulder, teeth sinking deep enough to draw a muffled cry. Tears stung Noah's eyes instantly.
He tried curling in on himself, but his legs were forced apart, pinned to the sheets.
"Asher… please don't…" His voice was broken, edged with sobs.
Hovering above him, Asher's eyes were ice. "Is this what you want Ren to see? Is this what you want from him?"
"No! I don't—" Noah shook his head desperately, breath coming in panicked gasps, chest knotted with fear and shame.
"You're lying."
Fingers dug mercilessly into his waist, pale knuckles stark in the dim light.
And then—without warning, without preparation—Asher thrust into him.
"Ah—!" The scream tore out of Noah's throat as his body arched violently, ripped open by the brutal entry.
There was no gentleness, no easing. Only raw force.
Tears blurred his vision as the pain seared through him, his body stretched past breaking.
He tried pushing Asher away, but his wrists were pinned. He tried closing his legs, but they were wrenched wide open, trapped.
The air filled with the sound of the bedframe rattling, his sobs breaking between the rhythm of harsh thrusts.
"Asher… please…" His voice was hoarse, pleading, almost gone.
But Asher only drove harder, jaw clenched, every movement a punishment. His fury and jealousy poured into each brutal snap of his hips.
Noah trembled, sight dimming at the edges.
The pain didn't stop. It dragged on and on, stretching seconds into torture.
His body was wracked to its limit. His insides burned, each thrust carving pain into bone. He couldn't even breathe.
Why is he so angry?
We're only bound by a contract—so why does he treat me like this?
What did I do wrong?
The question echoed in his head, but all that left his throat were broken sobs.
He was already weak. All day, exhaustion had dragged at him. By evening, fever had set in, fogging his head. He knew he was burning up, but he couldn't fight, couldn't push the man off.
Pain and illness dragged him deeper into darkness, into something bottomless.
Asher didn't stop. His body slammed down, relentless, breaking Noah open again and again. His growl burned against Noah's ear:
"Remember this, Noah. While this contract lasts, your body belongs to me. Only me."
Every word nailed straight into Noah's chest.
He wanted to deny it, to push the words back—but his tongue was heavy, his breath shattered, his body shaking uncontrollably.
The fever raged hotter, until he could barely tell if he was trembling from sickness or pain.
Vision blurred. The world swam. All he could feel was Asher's merciless pounding, over and over, until at last—finally—it ended.
Noah collapsed, every muscle limp, skin drenched in cold sweat. He didn't know how long had passed. The world was muffled, his ears full only of Asher's ragged breathing.
Asher's throat worked as he stared down, realization cutting through the haze of lust and rage.
Noah's face was ashen, lips bloodless, eyes glassy and wet. He looked so fragile he might break with the next touch.
Asher scooped him up—and froze.
The heat radiating off him was frightening. His forehead burned against Asher's palm.
"F*ck…" Asher cursed under his breath, a surge of dread slamming into his gut. "You're burning up?"
He carried Noah into the bedroom proper, laying him on the bed.
Noah didn't answer. His brow was furrowed tight, breath shallow and rapid. He looked more than exhausted—he looked truly sick.
Asher's hands stilled in the air. The truth sank in like ice.
He'd been completely consumed by jealousy, so blinded he hadn't given Noah the slightest chance, hadn't seen the fever blazing through him.
And Noah had endured it all without a word.
His arms tightened, clutching Noah against him, but it was too late.
Noah's consciousness had already slipped. Only soft, broken whimpers escaped, before he sank into fevered sleep—or unconsciousness.
Asher stared down at him, chest aching with a dull, brutal weight.
The room was cold as stone, yet the body in his arms burned hot enough to scorch.
He knew then—this had gone far beyond any contract.
He had lost control.