Sweet Hatred
Chapter 80: Game on

Chapter 80: Game on

Kael’s POV – Beat One

The door clicked.

That familiar little metallic sound of the lock twisting open, quiet but sharp, slicing straight through the heated tension in the kitchen. Aria stilled beneath me, her breath hitching against my lips, her fingers tensing where they’d curled into my shirt.

But I didn’t stop. Didn’t even flinch.

Because honestly? The thrill of it—the risk, the heat, the way her body squirmed under mine—it only made me hungrier. I smiled against her skin, lips brushing the edge of her jaw as she tried to pull back.

"Kael," she hissed, half whisper, half warning.

I let my teeth graze her throat in response.

Big mistake.

Her elbow came out of nowhere, fast and pissed. It cracked against my jaw with enough force to make my head turn and my pulse jump—and not just from the hit.

"Shit!" she gasped, eyes wide. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—"

But I was already laughing.

Quiet, low, the kind of laugh that rumbled in my chest and made her glare at me harder.

I reached up, rubbing my jaw as I straightened, still caging her against the counter with my body. "You hit like a maniac," I muttered, grinning.

"You weren’t stopping!" she snapped, cheeks flushed, hair wild, lips swollen from my mouth.

"I wasn’t planning to," I said, brushing her hair out of her face. "Didn’t you hear? I live for the danger."

"You’re a menace."

"Guilty."

That’s when the door fully creaked open—and Niko stepped in.

He paused mid-step. His eyes landed on us. Me still practically pinning her to the counter, her chest rising and falling fast, me rubbing my jaw like I’d just gone twelve rounds with a damn boxer.

"Um." Niko blinked, observing the scene. "Should I come back?"

I snorted.

"No that won’t be necessary." Aria groaned as she jumped off he counter, smacking her palm over her face. "I hate you." She said to me.

I leaned in close, mouth grazing her ear. "Liar."

Thirty minutes later, I was seated at the kitchen counter, watching her.

Aria stood opposite me, arms crossed, chin slightly lifted like she was daring me to complain. Niko sat beside me, looking like a man awaiting execution.

In front of us: banana pancakes, tea laced with ginger, lemon, and honey, a side of toast, and some weird leafy shit she said her sister Olivia had apparently sworn by. The spread was... suspiciously impressive. Which made it all the more terrifying.

I picked up my fork. Niko just stared at his. The silence dragged.

And then—Aria leaned forward, voice sweet as sin. "Well?"

I glanced at her. She was holding a knife. Not exactly pointing it at me, but... not—not pointing it at me either.

I cleared my throat. "Not sure I can give an honest opinion with you holding that knife like a deranged housewife."

Niko audibly gulped beside me.

She blinked down at her hand. "Oh." Then she tossed the knife onto the counter with a loud clang. "My bad."

I cut a bite and took it in.

Chewed. Paused. Raised a brow. ...Not terrible.

Actually—kind of great?

I leaned back in my chair, watching her from under my lashes. "Huh. I was expecting to lose at least ten years of my life from the first bite. But it’s... surprisingly edible."

Niko looked at me, then at his plate. Like I’d just given him permission to live. He took a tentative bite.

"I like it," he said after a second, cautious as hell. "It’s delicious."

Aria’s gaze narrowed. "Are you both lying to me?"

"Why would I lie to feed your ego? You know I like doing the opposite instead." I smirked.

Aria rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she muttered, turning away too quickly. "I’m gonna go take a bath."

She stalked off, muttering something under her breath about idiots and overdramatic reactions.

I smirked after her retreating figure.

Then turned to Niko taking large bites like a starved man. "You like her?"

He choked.

"I—what?"

"You heard me." I sipped my tea like I hadn’t just casually dropped a bomb.

"I—I mean... she’s tolerable," he said carefully. "Scary sometimes. Kind of intense. But better than the first time we met."

"That’s good." I nodded slowly. "Then don’t say anything about her to my father anymore."

Niko froze again. Visibly paled this time.

I’d picked Niko up on one of our missions while I was still a Colonel.

He was wrecked—shoulder torn up, leg barely usable. Injuries bad enough to bench him, but not bad enough to let him go. He looked hollow, like someone who’d already accepted he was done.

And maybe I saw a version of myself in that emptiness—one I wasn’t ready to become. So I gave him something to do, something to want. And when I left the army... he followed. No questions. Just loyalty.

I kept my tone light, but every word was steel. "I know he’s making you report back. I don’t care about the rest. But Aria stays out of it. Don’t mention her. Don’t even say her name. And when he asks, she’s only my assistant. Do you understand?"

He swallowed hard, then gave a stiff nod. "Yes, sir."

"Good." I clapped his shoulder. "Take the rest of the day off. Tomorrow too."

"I’m fine—"

"You’ve been running on fumes. Go home. Or wherever it is you go when you’re not my guard or father’s spy."

He flinched, and I just smiled.

The moment Niko left, the bathroom door creaked open.

Aria stepped out in one of my towels, her hair damp, skin glowing from the steam. "Where’s Niko?"

I didn’t let her finish.

I crossed the room, grabbed her like she weighed nothing, and slung her over my shoulder.

"Kael—! Put me down—!"

"We’re finally alone," I said, hand sliding up the back of her thigh. "And I’ve been barely keeping it together."

I had her in my arms, and that was all that mattered.

She was kicking, half-swinging, half-swearing, but I didn’t stop. I slung her over my shoulder like a caveman with a prize he’d hunted down, and the second we crossed the threshold of my room, I slammed the door shut with my foot and headed straight for the bed.

"You’re insane!" she shouted, smacking my back.

"Completely," I said, "and you love it."

I tossed her onto the mattress, and she bounced with a startled little gasp, her towel nearly slipping off. And fuck me, it was a vision—her hair still damp and curling around her face, her skin dewy and warm, her thighs slightly parted as she glared up at me like she wanted to kill me and kiss me all at once.

I dropped down over her, hands already finding their way—on her waist, her thighs, the underside of her ass. I crushed my mouth to hers before she could start another protest, and she melted into it just like I knew she would. Her fingers curled in my hair as I deepened the kiss, tasting her, groaning against her lips when she bit mine.

God. I couldn’t get enough. I needed her like air.

I tore the towel off and shoved it aside. My mouth trailed down her neck, sucking just below her ear, then lower, over her collarbone. She arched when my tongue flicked across the peak of her breast, and I groaned, teeth grazing over her skin.

"Kael," she whispered, already breathless.

That sound—her saying my name like that—went straight to my cock. I was already hard as hell, straining against my sweatpants, aching to be inside her. My hand slid between her thighs, fingers grazing her pussy, and fuck, she was so wet already.

"Missed this," I muttered, pressing kisses between the valley of her breasts. "Missed you."

She grabbed my face then, panting, cheeks flushed. "You’re still sick you bastard."

I blinked, heart racing. "I’m not sick firefly. I’m starving."

She narrowed her eyes. "No. You’re always getting your way. Today, we do things my way."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

She pushed me—gently but firmly—until I was flat on my back. She straddled my hips like she owned me, hair sticking to her shoulders, lips pink and swollen, eyes dark with heat.

"I’m on top tonight," she said. "And you’re going to behave."

Oh. Fuck.

Game on.

She looked like sin itself, and I was already begging to be damned.

She didn’t give me time to adjust. No warning. Just leaned down, lips brushing mine—soft at first, like she was teasing me with innocence—and then she bit my lower lip, hard enough to make me hiss.

"Are you sure you’re up to the task Aria? I teased.

"You said I’d break you," she murmured. "Remember?"

Fuck.

I remembered.

I remembered the way I said it, drunk out of my mind, half-delirious with fever and lust. "You’re gonna break me," I’d told her, voice wrecked. And God knows I’d let her. I’d let her break me, burn me till there was nothing left.

I didn’t think she heard it. But she did. And now she was using it against me. Delicious little menace.

"I didn’t mean it," I said, lying through my teeth, even as my cock twitched beneath her.

She laughed—laughed—this soft, mocking sound that made my abs tighten and my mouth go dry.

"Sure you didn’t," she said, reaching behind her to tug the tie from my sweatpants. "Poor you. Scared of getting ruined by me?"

I could barely breathe. "You keep talking like that, and I’ll ruin these sheets."

"Good," she whispered. "I want them ruined. I want you ruined."

Then she slid down, dragging her mouth down my chest, across every scar, every muscle like she was tasting a memory. Her nails dug into my hips, keeping me still. Her tongue was fire. And she didn’t stop—not until she was staring at the bulge in my sweats, biting her lips like she was starving.

"Off," she said, tugging the waistband.

"Aria—"

"Don’t speak unless I ask you to," she shot back, eyes wild and gleaming. "That’s another rule."

Holy fuck.

She pulled my sweatpants down slow, like she was unwrapping the world’s filthiest gift. My cock sprang free—hard, leaking, desperate for her—and she stared at it like it was her next meal.

"You’re already so hard for me," she whispered, breath tickling the tip. "So easy. Just from a little teasing?"

I was losing it. My head tipped back, fists clenched in the sheets. "I’ll beg. Don’t make me."

She licked the underside of my cock, slow and sinful, like she wanted to own me.

"You already do, Roman."