Sweet Hatred-Chapter 236: Kissed by a mad man 18+

My hands dug into her ass, pulling her close, grinding her against me with every thrust until her spine arched and her nails bit into my skin. I dipped low, mouth finding her neck, sucking, biting, leaving my claim in places only I’d see later.

My lips trailed lower, her collarbone, the top of her breast, the delicate curve where her heartbeat stuttered against my tongue.

"You think I didn’t see him touching you?" I growled, voice gravel rough, drunk with fury and lust. "You think I didn’t feel it every time his eyes were on you?"

She gasped when I thrust deeper again, my cock throbbing and angry, hitting that spot that made her legs tremble around me. Her walls fluttered like they were trying to milk me already.

I groaned into her chest, biting the underside of her breast, leaving my mark there too. My hands were everywhere, her waist, her ribs, her throat, her hair. I wanted to erase everything that wasn’t me.

I wanted to fuck her so full of me that nothing else would ever fit.

Especially not him.

My tongue slid across her breastbone, then up, flicking, teasing, devouring. Her head fell back and I chased it with my lips, tasting the salt of her skin, the heat of her surrender.

Her body writhed beneath me, and I could feel it again, that telltale squeeze, the teasing pulse of her cunt around me as I dragged out of her and then slammed back in, so deep her entire body jolted forward with the force.

The table creaked.

Her dress was a tangled mess on the floor, her mask long discarded, and her arms wrapped around me like she’d drown without the anchor of my body. Her heels scraped against my back as I moved faster, harder, like the deeper I went, the more of her I could take. Claim.

Behind her, the door stayed cracked open. Just a sliver. A golden slit of light.

I saw it.

But she didn’t.

My eyes flicked to it, half-open, dazed, and dark with heat.

"Kael..." Aria whispered, voice hoarse and glassy as she squeezed harder around me.

My fingers dug into her thighs, spreading her wider. I didn’t look at the door again. But I knew. Someone was there. And it wasn’t just any bastard who followed the scent of chaos and stumbled into my hunt.

But I didn’t care. I wanted him to see. Let him watch what he’ll never have.

I growled into her skin, "Look how well you’re taking me firefly."

And then I drove into her so deep her body arched like I’d stolen the air from her lungs.

Her nails tore down my back. Her moan cracked in half.

She was mine. Only mine. And now the whole fucking world would know it.

The table rocked under us. I gripped her chin, forcing her to look at me, nowhere else.

"Eyes on me."

She blinked, dazed. Wrecked. Lips parted, smeared with spit and swollen. I kissed her so hard her head fell back and her cry drowned in my mouth.

Another thrust.

Another whimper.

I leaned in again, licking the sweat off her throat before muttering something low, filthy, dangerous, so dark and raw it wasn’t clear if it was for her...

...or whoever was standing on the other side of that goddamn door.

Her body writhed beneath me, damp, trembling, ruined just right. My hands were everywhere, spanning her waist, pinning her down, grabbing her throat when she moaned too loud just to feel the vibration against my palm. She was warm and tight and soaked, already losing herself to me again. But I wasn’t done, not even close.

The door creaked softly again.

I smirked this time against her skin.

"Oh," I whispered darkly into her ear, hips dragging in a deep, brutal rhythm, "you feel that?" Another thrust. Her back arched violently, and I caught her moan in my mouth again.

"Who do you think it is?" I asked softly. "Peeking." A twisted smile curled on my lips. I knew she was too far gone to answer. "You think it’s him?"

Her eyes widened.

Good.

I rolled my hips deeper, harder, just to hear her whimper.

"Should I stop?" I whispered, my breath ragged against her cheek. "Or should I let him watch me fuck you senseless?"

She shook her head, a desperate sound falling from her throat.

"Should I make him watch?" I rasped. "Make him see what that pretty mouth of yours looks like when it’s gasping my name? How you fall apart just from my cock?"

I grabbed her jaw again, angling her face toward the door.

"Don’t look away firefly," I breathed. "Let him see how pretty you are when you break."

I dipped down, licking the tears that had gathered in her lashes. "No one touches you but me," I said. "No one hears those sounds but me. No one gets to see this but me."

And yet,

I still didn’t shut the door.

Because even as I spilled my cum inside her, I wanted the whole damn world to know that Aria was mine.

Every cry.

Every bruise.

Every trembling, soaked inch of her.

I finally pulled out of her, slow and reluctant, like I didn’t want to let go. Because I didn’t.

Not when she was twitching around nothing, trembling, wrecked... and yet still burning with that fire in her eyes.

She tried to sit up, but her thighs were shaking and I caught her before she slid off the table. Her hair was wild, half out of the intricate style, sweaty strands sticking to her flushed cheeks. Her makeup was smudged like a painting ruined by rain, but fuck if she didn’t look like a masterpiece still.

My masterpiece.

She didn’t speak. Just seethed silently, sitting there with her arms crossed under her chest and her legs pressed together, glaring at the floor like she could murder it with one look.

An angry little rabbit.

I took out my handkerchief and wiped between her thighs carefully, gently, watching her flinch but not stop me. Her glare deepened, but her body relaxed slightly under my touch, like it didn’t know whether to fight or melt.

"You’re pouting," I murmured, voice low and dry. "Cute."

"Go to hell," she snapped.

"Already there," I said, wiping her thighs clean, "and you’re the fire."

I helped her stand, she winced, and put on her dress back up slowly, piece by piece. I caught every little twitch of her lip, every annoyed breath, every attempt to bite down her curses. She was full of fury, and it made her glow.

"Don’t help me," she hissed when I reached for her undone hair.

"Too late," I replied.

I gently tucked strands behind her ear, brushing away the damp locks clinging to her face. She jerked her head to the side, but I caught her chin, pulled her back, and did it anyway.

"Stop fidgeting," I said softly. "You look like you were kissed by a mad man."

"I was fucked by a mad man," she snapped.

I smirked. Couldn’t help it.

"If you keep looking at me like that," I murmured, mouth brushing her cheek, "we’re not leaving this room at all. I’ll pin you to the door next."

She narrowed her eyes like she wanted to stab me.

I reached for my suit jacket and threw it over her shoulders, even though it practically drowned her. She looked like she’d been stolen from a battlefield and dressed in her captor’s armor.

Perfect.

I leaned in, lips brushing her ear, voice a deep hum only she could hear.

"You’ve got twenty minutes to say your goodbyes," I said. "After that, I’m taking you."

She stiffened.

"For the rest of the night," I added, smirking.

"And while you’re at it... do try to keep my cum from leaking down your thighs. For appearances."

She stomped her heel on my foot, not too hard, just enough to make a point.

I chuckled, grabbed her by the waist, and nipped her ear.

She wobbled away in my suit, grumbling under her breath.

I was only a few steps behind her, watching the sway of her hips beneath my jacket, still smug from watching her wobble like she’d been split open from the inside out, which she had.

But then, fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

"Sir!"

Three guards in black suits, earpieces buzzing, moved fast through the hallway crowd, stopping me mid-step.

I turned, jaw clenched. "What is it?"

"We have a breach," one said, panting lightly. "South wing."

Fucking hell.

I inhaled once, slow. Controlled. Calculated.

"Details?"

"Unknown individual accessed the guest terrace, cut through secondary surveillance," the other added. "Cameras glitched for three minutes, and one of the guards on that route is unconscious. They’re being treated now."

I blinked, once.

Sabotage.

Or a fucking joke.

And if it wasn’t sabotage, then someone out there had either guts or a death wish.

"Shut down the side wings," I snapped. "Double guards around VVIP zones. Lock down everything not on the main ballroom route and restrict balcony access. If anyone gives pushback, redirect them to me."

The guards nodded and one ran off immediately, relaying commands into his mic.

"Send the medical report from the unconscious guard to my phone. I want to know if it was a tranq, blunt force trauma, or poison. And sweep the damn floor for any traces."

"Yes, sir."

I was already pulling out my phone, fingers moving fast, flagging the incident under High Priority.

And then I paused.

A chill ran through me, not the kind I was used to, not even the anticipatory cold before blood spilled. No.

Something was missing.

I turned around and scanned the hallway.

She was gone.

My suit.

Her scent.

Everything.

Gone.

"Fuck," I muttered.

The guards looked confused, but I didn’t wait.

I barked my last command: "Continue surveillance grid checks. Tell Niko to send me live footage from the ballroom and all exits. If anything else happens, I want to know before it does."

And then I walked.

No, stormed.

Fast. Focused. Shoulders tense. Muscles locked.

Not because I was scared.

I didn’t do scared.

But because Aria was missing again, and I’d just gotten her back under my hands. Under my skin. She couldn’t have gone far. But if anyone touched her again, if anyone took her out of my sight,

They wouldn’t live long enough to regret it.

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