His Obsession Began After Losing Her-Chapter 87: Kiss Me

A muffled sound escaped Noran's gagged mouth, "Uhm!"

His eyes widened in horror as Shuri entered the room, her steps slow and mechanical.

Seeing her presence, Noran felt an overwhelming wave of anxiety, fear, and despair wash over him.

The sight of his lover, so close yet so unreachable, filled him with a desperate longing that tore at his heart.

Every fiber of his being ached to reach out to her, to protect her from the monstrous man who had brought her here. His muscles strained against the bindings, his skin chafing under the pressure, but he was utterly helpless.

Shuri stood at a distance, her expression blank and devoid of emotion.

Her vacant eyes stared straight ahead, as if she were in a trance, unable to recognize the man she loved bound tightly to a chair.

Sigmund sneered and walked over to Shuri, a smug smile on his face.

"I knew you would be happy to see her," Sigmund taunted, gently stroking Shuri's face with the back of his hand.

Noran's struggles became more violent as he saw Sigmund touch Shuri. His heart pounded with rage and helplessness. He strained against his restraints, his eyes burning with fury.

Sigmund laughed, delighted by Noran's reaction. "Ah, there it is, that fire in your eyes. I was looking forward to seeing how you'd react when she came."

He continued to touch Shuri, his fingers tracing her cheek, then slid down to her neck, eventually embracing her from behind.

Noran's eyes widened even more, filled with murderous intent.

Although he couldn't speak, his whole demeanor screamed that he would kill Sigmund if given the chance.

Sigmund noticed the murderous glare and continued to smile wickedly. "Unlike you, she willingly became my puppet."

Noran's fury intensified, his body trembling with anger.

"You don't believe me?" Sigmund taunted, his voice dripping with mockery.

He tightened his grip on Shuri, pulling her closer to him, savoring Noran's torment.

"I will prove it to you," Sigmund declared, his eyes glinting with sadistic pleasure.

He leaned in closer to Shuri, his lips brushing against her ear.

"Kiss me," he ordered, his voice laced with command.

Shuri's response was immediate and robotic, "Yes, Master."

She turned her face towards Sigmund and pressed her lips against his in a mechanical kiss.

Noran's world shattered as he watched his lover kiss another man.

The scene played out before him in slow motion, each second a dagger to his heart.

Shuri's compliance, her lifeless eyes, and the sight of her lips against Sigmund's filled him with a rage and despair that threatened to consume him.

His body strained against the restraints, muscles bulging, veins popping as he struggled to break free.

The chair creaked and groaned under the force of his desperate attempts, but it held firm.

"Stop!" Noran's muffled cries were barely audible through the gag, but his eyes, now filled with a burning fury and tears of anguish, spoke volumes.

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, each beat echoing the torment he felt watching Shuri being violated by Sigmund's touch.

Sigmund, feeling the intensity of Noran's reaction, deepened the kiss, his hands wandering possessively over Shuri's body.

The display was more than Noran could bear.

His struggles grew more violent, the chair tipping precariously with each thrash.

Finally, with a loud crash, the chair toppled over, sending Noran sprawling to the floor.

At the same time, Sigmund felt a sharp headache surge through his skull.

He winced, pulling back from Shuri, who stood there blankly, her eyes empty and devoid of emotion.

Attempting to ignore the pain, Sigmund glanced down at Noran, who was still bound to the chair on the floor, his eyes bloodshot with fury.

"Oh dear, why is my prized puppet on the floor?" Sigmund's voice was a mixture of mockery and faux concern. "I don't want you to get dirty."

With a twisted smile, Sigmund walked over to where Noran lay sprawled on the floor, still bound to the chair.

He bent down and, with surprising ease, lifted the chair upright, forcing Noran back into a sitting position.

Noran's body was heavy and uncooperative, but Sigmund handled him with practiced ease as if he had done this many times before.

Once Noran was seated, Sigmund meticulously adjusted his clothes, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt and straightening his jacket.

"There, much better," he murmured, his tone disturbingly tender.

He reached up to tidy Noran's hair, but Noran jerked his head away from Sigmund's touch, his eyes blazing with unrestrained fury.

Sigmund studied Noran for a while before muttering. "I wonder why the poison is taking so long to take effect."

The poison Sigmund had created was a potent concoction designed to knock a person out cold and slowly degrade their mental faculties.

It made even the strongest-willed individuals susceptible to his mind control, eventually transforming them into obedient puppets.

Yet, it was strange that the poison seemed to take effect more slowly on Noran's body.

Sigmund studied Noran with a mixture of curiosity and frustration.

Despite the slow progress, he didn't dare administer more of the poison. He feared it might destroy or harm Noran's perfect physique, something he was unwilling to risk.

Little did Sigmund know that Noran was using his divine blessing to slow down the poison's effects on his mind.

Patting Noran on the shoulder, Sigmund's expression turned mockingly sympathetic. "You should be more obedient, like your fiancée. Then I wouldn't have to keep you tied up here. It's such a shame I can't show you off yet."

Noran continued to glare at Sigmund with unwavering intensity before his eyes gradually shifted back to Shuri.

Shuri stood in the same spot where she had entered, unmoved and unresponsive, her expression eerily blank.

Noran's heart ached with a mix of sorrow and frustration.

He had dedicated his entire life to building an empire, a fortress within which he could protect her from all harm. He had amassed power, wealth, and influence, all with the sole purpose of ensuring her safety and happiness.

And yet, here he was, bound and gagged, stripped of his autonomy, utterly helpless.

Noran's heart pounded as he watched Sigmund walk back to Shuri.

Sigmund lifted her up like she was a doll, her body limp and compliant in his grasp. Noran's eyes burned with rage and despair, his struggles futile against the restraints.

"A doll this pretty belongs in my bed," Sigmund said with a twisted smile, his voice dripping with possessiveness.

"Mmph!"

A muffled cry escaped from behind the gag as Sigmund's words made Noran's body tremble with the force of his emotions. He once again pulled against the bindings with all his might, his muscles straining and veins bulging, but he remained helpless.

Sigmund watched Noran's frantic attempts to break free with a look of amusement. "Rest well, Mr. Kingston. Don't worry, I'll take good care of your fiancée tonight and bring her to see you tomorrow."

With that, Sigmund turned, still holding Shuri as if she were a prized possession, and left the room. The door closed behind them with a resounding click, leaving Noran in darkness.

...

The opulent bedroom was bathed in a soft, dim light, casting long shadows across the luxurious furnishings.

Gently but firmly, Sigmund placed Shuri on the bed, arranging her on the plush, silken sheets.

"Tonight, I'll make you my permanent puppet."

Shuri remained silent, her eyes vacant as he began to undress her.

Sigmund's eyes roamed over her body, admiring every curve.

"With such a beautiful body like this, I assume he must have held you every night and wouldn't let you go," he murmured, running his fingers lightly over her skin.

He leaned in close, his lips grazing her neck as he trailed a path of love marks down her delicate skin.

His breath was hot against her ear as he whispered, "Tell me, is this your first time in bed with a man other than Noran?"

"Yes, Master," Shuri replied, her tone emotionless, her gaze distant.

It was as if his touch and taunts didn't reach her.

Sigmund chuckled darkly, amused by her stoic response.

"So devoted to him, aren't you?" He murmured, his fingers tracing the curve of her collarbone before moving down to cup her voluptuous breasts. "But after tonight, you'll be mine."

His voice was a low, possessive growl.

He buried his face in her chest, inhaling deeply, his breaths coming out in slow, ragged exhalations. "Haa, so good..."

Shuri remained still, unflinching, her face a mask of indifference.

She showed no resistance, her body devoid of tension, her eyes fixed on some distant point.

Sigmund smiled contentedly. "Did he also suck you like this so deliciously?"

He bit down on her chest, and a sudden, sharp pain pierced his head.

"Ugh!" he winced, his hand flying to his temple as if trying to ward off the intrusive sensation.

Shuri remained still, her eyes blank, her body unmoving on the bed.

Sigmund tried to shake off the headache, but it persisted, gnawing at his thoughts. He got up and looked down at Shuri, who gazed up at him with unseeing eyes.

He didn't understand why he was experiencing a headache every time he acted intimately with Shuri. Was it a coincidence, or was there more to it?

However, the pain in his head made it difficult to think clearly.

He chose to dismiss the pain, attributing it to overuse and the strain of practicing his powers, particularly his efforts to turn Noran into his puppet.

It seemed the headache refused to subside, and he couldn't continue going further with Shuri tonight.

"Stay here," he ordered.

"Yes, Master," Shuri replied, her voice a monotone echo in the room.

Sigmund turned and left the bedroom, the door closing behind him with a soft click.

In the silence of the opulent bedroom, Shuri slowly sat up from the bed.

Her empty eyes, which had seemed so devoid of life just moments before, suddenly gleamed with clarity and purpose.

It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing the sharpness and awareness hidden beneath. She wiped her lips, where Sigmund had just kissed, with the back of her hand, her expression shifting from blankness to one of resolute determination.