Sweet Hatred
Chapter 150: unreal r18

Chapter 150: unreal r18

I didn’t move. Couldn’t. My heart pounded, thighs sore, mind hazy and thick. The alcohol still clung to my bloodstream but my head felt clearer, more dangerous than ever.

"This place isn’t big enough for what I want to do to you Aria," he whispered, voice wrecked and dark. "Let’s take it somewhere more comfortable."

Without a word, I slid off him, sweat clinging to my forehead and slipping down my back. My knees wobbled as I reached for the car door and the lock clicked open. The cold air hit me like a slap, but it wasn’t enough to sober me. Not really.

I took a step, then stumbled.

Arms caught me before I hit the ground. Kael’s.

"You look more drunk now than you did at the party," he murmured, amused.

I didn’t reply. Just stared at the ground, biting my lip, angry at how much I wanted him. Angry at myself for needing him like this.

And then he knelt.

My breath hitched as Kael gently removed my heels, fingers brushing the sore spots on my feet. "These must be killing you."

Still, I said nothing. Just watched him in silence, jaw tight.

Once my shoes were off, he stood—and before I could move again, he swept me up into his arms without warning.

I let out a tired little laugh. "Finally carrying me properly, huh?"

"You’re so adorable when you’re like this," he said, kissing my forehead, and began walking toward the entrance, heels in one hand, my body pressed to his chest.

I buried my face in him as we passed staff and security, all respectfully nodding. I barely noticed them. All I felt was the steady thump of Kael’s heart against my ear.

When we reached his bedroom, he tried to gently lower me onto the bed—but I clung tighter. Arms around his neck. Legs wrapped around his waist.

"You’re not getting away that easily," I whispered, voice raw.

Kael smirked, eyes burning. "Good. I wasn’t planning on it."

I really don’t know what came over me.

Our mouths were still tangled in that deep, breathless kiss when he shifted forward, his cock dragging against my soaked, aching entrance, already leaking from the mess he’d made earlier inside me. The kiss was wet, slow, hungry, and I could barely breathe through the heat curling low in my stomach.

But the damn dress was in the way. A barrier he clearly hated.

He groaned softly against my lips. "Goddamn this dress," he muttered, voice rough and strained, pulling back just enough to look at me, his eyes stormy with hunger. "As gorgeous as you look in it..."

Then he pulled further back just enough to lift me gently and guide me toward the edge of the bed. His lips never strayed far from my skin, and when his fingers found the strap, they moved like he’d been waiting years to do this.

He peeled the dress away from my body so slowly, so deliberately, kissing each new patch of exposed skin as it appeared—starting at my collarbone, trailing over the swell of my breasts, the soft of my belly, my hips. I trembled, completely at his mercy. When the dress pooled at my ankles, he knelt in front of me, lowering his head and pressing a kiss to the arch of my foot.

My breath hitched.

He kissed the top of each foot next, soft and reverent, his eyes locked with mine. He looked like a goddamn angel or maybe a devil in disguise. Beautiful. Hungry. Unholy.

"You’re unreal," he whispered against my calf, voice thick with awe. "How are you even real?"

Then his mouth found the inside of my thighs, trailing up, closer and closer to the heat between my legs. But I wasn’t going to let him have all the control. Not when he looked like that—undone and divine and kneeling for me like I was something sacred.

I smiled and pressed the sole of my foot right against the thick bulge in his slacks.

He gasped, groaning low, his head dipping forward to rest against my thigh like the touch shattered his composure.

"Fuck, baby..."

I curled my toes around the outline of him, feeling the way his cock strained against the fabric. His hands clutched my knees, trembling.

"Unbutton it," I whispered with a voice dripping with honey and lust.

He looked up at me with that delicious, devilish smirk, dark eyes burning but something else shimmered behind it. Lust, yes. But also something that made my chest ache.

"Whatever you want, angel," he said.

And he obeyed.

Slow fingers. Intent eyes. He unfastened the buttons and pushed the fabric down, freeing himself. Thick, flushed, leaking at the tip, absolutely perfect.

I didn’t even hesitate. I slid my foot forward and curled my toes around him, stroking slowly, teasingly, drinking in the way his jaw clenched, the way his whole body trembled from restraint.

"Jesus Christ," he groaned, head falling back for just a second.

He looked wrecked. Like he’d been praying for this. Worshipping me again—like we hadn’t just spent hours unraveling his pain, his childhood, his walls.

And it was only the beginning.

I kept stroking him with my foot, eyes locked on his face. Watching the way his mouth parted, chest rising and falling, muscles twitching under my touch—it was too much. Too good. He looked like he was in pain, the most beautiful kind, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to.

His cock twitched again, tip leaking, throbbing. My toes squeezed tighter around him, and he let out a moan so deep, so raw and perfect it echoed in my core.

But somewhere between his soft gasps and that ruined look in his eyes, I felt it—the obsession. Crawling in like a shadow, a flame, a need so sharp it nearly made me gasp. Mine. No one else would ever see him like this. No one else would get him on his knees, lips on their skin, moaning like that. No one.

I tilted my head, pushing my other leg up to rest over his shoulder, and he grabbed it with one hand, his thumb dragging along my ankle while I worked him faster.

"You look close," I whispered, voice thick with heat. "You want something else... don’t you?"

His eyes snapped up to mine, wild, molten.

"Are you gonna make me beg?" he rasped.

I smiled, sweet but wicked. "Why don’t you do what you’re good at... and take it with force?"

I barely finished the sentence before he moved. One second he was kneeling, breathless and wrecked, and the next he was on his feet, towering over me like a massive panther, all sleek muscle and deadly grace, hunger written in every inch of his body.

I let out a sharp gasp, breath stolen.

"Be careful what you ask for," he growled, eyes flashing.

And then he grabbed my thighs and pulled me to the very edge of the bed, spreading me open like he owned me, like this body was made to be devoured by him alone.

His cock pressed against my entrance, soaked and dripping for him, and I swore I saw his control snap, just like that.

"Kael," I breathed, nails curling into the sheets, "don’t you dare go easy."

He smirked, voice dark and full of heat. "Oh, firefly... I wasn’t planning to."