Sweet Hatred
Chapter 82: "Try me." (18+)

Chapter 82: "Try me." (18+)

I gripped his cock tighter and gave it a single, slow lick up the shaft. Deliberate. Cruel. I kept my eyes on him, watching every twitch of his body as I blew cool air across the wetness I left behind.

He groaned. His thighs flexed.

"You’re fucking evil," he whispered again, voice raw now. "You’re gonna make me lose my mind."

"Good," I murmured, lips kissing the base. "That’s the point."

And then I sucked him in again—this time all the way.

His hips bucked. A curse tore from his throat. "Fucking—Aria—!"

I pulled off with a wicked pop. "Uh uh. You still haven’t begged."

"You’re driving me insane."

"Beg."

He didn’t. His fists were clenched so hard, I thought he’d snap and flip the script on me.

I leaned forward again. Took him halfway. Swirled. Sucked. Let a little drool fall down the shaft as I bobbed my head—just enough to make him moan low in his throat.

His breath stuttered. "F...fuck—Aria, please—"

I froze.

Pulled back with a wet string of saliva connecting my lips to his cock.

"Please what?"

He glared, chest heaving. And then—

"...Please suck me. Please don’t stop. Please—fuck—I need your mouth."

My smirk turned downright sinful. "Good boy."

Then I devoured him.

Fast. Deep. No mercy.

My hands held his thighs down, fingers sinking into his flesh as he writhed, torn between keeping still and fucking into my mouth. He was moaning now—broken sounds, desperate, a symphony of ruined pride. And I didn’t stop. I kept edging him, backing off every time he got too close, just to watch him fall apart a little more.

His moans turned guttural, more animal than man, and I could feel his thighs trembling under my hands. His cock pulsed heavy on my tongue, slick and flushed, every vein thick beneath my grip as I worked him over slowly—then faster—until he was right there.

"Aria—fuck—" His voice cracked, throat raw. "I’m gonna—"

I pulled off just before it hit, letting his tip slip out of my mouth with a wet pop, a thin string of spit and precum clinging between us. I looked up at him—completely wrecked, flushed, mouth parted, sweat at his temples, and still blindfolded.

God, he looked so beautiful being controlled. The sight of Kael—this sharp-edged man, this arrogant, bossy bastard—tied down, flushed, and breathing like he was begging for me? God.

I licked my lips, slow and deliberate, letting the taste of him linger on my tongue. "Mm-mm," I said with a wicked smirk, stroking him lazily with one hand while wiping the drool from my chin with the other. "Not yet."

He groaned—growled, almost—his hips jerking, fists clenched in the sheets like he wanted to flip me over and fuck the life out of me right there.

"You," he warned, breathless. "That’s not—fuck, that’s not fair now firefly. You’re playing dirty."

I leaned in, lips brushing the shell of his ear. "You edge me all the damn time, Kael," I whispered. "Payback’s a bitch."

And just like that, I let go of his cock, climbed up slowly over him, the heat between my thighs aching, soaking, absolutely starving.

His whole body was taut like a loaded gun—shaking, cursing under his breath—and he had no idea what was coming next.

But I did.

I straddled him slowly, deliberately, letting the weight of my thighs cage him in. His cock was flushed, leaking against his stomach, begging for friction—and I gave him none. Just hovered there, hot and dripping, watching the tension ripple down his abs like he was hanging onto his last shred of sanity.

I reached for the blindfold, fingers brushing his damp hair. "You wanna see me?" I asked, voice low and sweet like sin.

His jaw flexed. "You know I do."

I slid the fabric up and off his face, and when his eyes met mine—dark, stormy, burning—something in my stomach flipped. Not fear. Not yet. But... anticipation. Like I’d stepped into the lion’s den and shut the door behind me.

His eyes dragged over me—my lips swollen, skin flushed, thighs glistening. He swallowed hard, and the look in his eyes said he was already planning to get back at me for every second of this.

But not yet.

I reached between us, wrapping my fingers around his cock again, and guided him to my entrance. The stretch made me gasp, my body parting for him, inch by inch, until he was almost fully buried inside me.

"Fuck," I breathed, bracing my hands on his chest. "You’re so—fuck—you feel so good."

Kael’s hands hovered, trembling. I felt them ghost over my thighs, aching to grab me.

"No," I warned, curling my fingers around his wrists and pushing them back down. "Stay still."

His nostrils flared, lips parting like he might argue, but then he groaned deep in his throat and let me take control.

I rolled my hips slow. Deep. Circling my waist in ways that made both of us shudder. His eyes never left mine—devouring me, challenging me, begging all at once.

"Look at you," I whispered, panting now. "You act like you run the world but right now? You’re all mine."

And he was.

I started to move. Slowly. Torturously slow. Grinding down in lazy, dragging rolls, letting him feel every squeeze of my walls around his cock. His breaths were ragged, like he was holding onto each one with frayed fingers.

I leaned forward, lips brushing his ear. "You wanna touch me, don’t you?"

"Aria..." he growled, like saying my name might ground him—but it didn’t. If anything, it made him tremble harder.

"Beg."

He laughed—a sharp, broken sound that cracked under the pressure. "You don’t want me to beg again, sweetheart," he rasped. "You won’t survive it."

I clenched around him just to punish that mouth. He hissed, cursed under his breath, and I smiled.

"Try me."

I rode him harder now. Letting go. Letting it build. My thighs were burning but I didn’t stop. I wanted him ruined. I wanted to see him crack open beneath me. I wanted to leave him so fucked out he couldn’t even remember his own name.

I leaned in close, my lips hovering just above his. His mouth parted, eyes wild—desperate. Begging.

"You want a kiss?" I whispered, deliberately soft, letting my breath trace the curve of his lip.