Sweet Hatred-Chapter 221: Dangerously Mine

She didn’t answer. She just stared.

"I see something that doesn’t belong in anyone else’s arms."

I stepped closer. She didn’t move away.

"I see something so dangerously mine, it scares the hell out of me."

I leaned in, and this time my hands moved from hers to her waist, just above the hem of her shirt. Barely touching. Like a flame licking up the edge of a page.

"I see the woman who asked me to let her go... and I hear her asking to be pulled closer instead."

Her lips parted.

"But I won’t ask for permission again," I said, voice dipping lower, dead serious now. "Because you’re not walking away from me, Aria. Not when I still crave you like this. Not when I’d burn everything just to keep you looking at me like that."

Silence. Her chest rose and fell. Her fingers trembled. And still, she didn’t run.

So I touched her again.

Not roughly. Not sexually. Just... utterly.

A palm against her lower back. A whisper of my knuckles grazing her cheek.

She was trembling now. And maybe I was too.

She should’ve pushed me away.

The way her throat fluttered. The way her lips parted. The way her fists trembled in mine like the war inside her was loud enough to echo between us, I should’ve stepped back.

But I didn’t.

Couldn’t.

Not when she looked like this. Not when she smelled like home I’d never been allowed to live in. Not when she’d walked through hell just to end up right here, with me.

So I gave in.

I let my hands rise from her waist to the curve of her back and pulled her closer, so gently it hurt. Her body touched mine, soft and slow. Her breath caught. Her eyes fluttered, and for a second, just a second, I could feel her falling with me.

"I shouldn’t touch you like this," I muttered against her jaw, my lips grazing skin I’d memorized in darkness. "Not when you asked me to let go."

She was still frozen.

Still undecided.

But her fingers curled around the hem of my shirt, whether to push or pull, I couldn’t tell. Didn’t matter.

I touched her again.

Lower now.

I traced the base of her spine with my fingertips, dragging heat into her bones like a promise I didn’t know how to keep anymore. She gasped.

Her body leaned into mine.

But her voice fought back.

"Kael," she whispered, her tone sharp, desperate, bleeding. "This isn’t what we need right now."

I nodded.

And I didn’t move an inch.

Instead, I kissed her throat.

She tried to speak again, but I pressed my lips just beneath her ear, and all that came out was a broken breath. Her hands were still on me, trying to decide if they were claws or lifelines.

"You think I don’t know you’re trying to run?" I said, low, venomous, honest. "But you’re still here. Still letting me do this."

She trembled.

"Tell me to stop, Aria," I said. My voice cracked on her name. "Tell me, and I will."

She opened her mouth.

Closed it.

Didn’t say a word.

So I kissed her again. Her neck. Her collarbone. Her cheek.

And when she still didn’t tell me to stop, I crushed my mouth to hers.

And fuck, she kissed me back.

At first, it was with a kind of rage. Like she wanted to hate it. Hate me. Her teeth grazed my lip. Her hands shoved against my chest like she meant to break the bones.

But then she melted.

Her breath broke.

Her lips softened.

And she pulled me closer like I was oxygen.

Her mouth gave in, warm and urgent. Her fingers tangled in my hair. Her chest pressed into mine, and I wanted to sink into her, all of her. Her anger. Her ache. Her fear. Her impossible love.

I pulled back just long enough to breathe, my forehead resting against hers.

"Tell me this is nothing," I said hoarsely. "Tell me it’s still just sex. Just a contract. Just a mistake."

She didn’t.

Her silence screamed louder than any confession.

So I kissed her again.

Harder.

Deeper.

Wilder.

And in that moment, she kissed me like she needed me too—like all the fights and fuckups and doubts didn’t matter anymore. Like this was the only truth that made sense between us.

I wanted to ruin her with devotion.

I wanted her to break under how much I needed her.

So I did what I do best.

I pulled her up, arms around her thighs, lifting her against the wall and kissed her like I’d never get the chance again.

She wrapped around me like she belonged there. And she did. She did.

I buried my face in her neck, breathing her in.

And I whispered like a madman praying to his only god...

"I won’t let you go."

Her breath was still warm on my lips when I pulled back, just barely.

Her body still clung to mine like I was something worth holding onto.

And fuck, fuck, she looked like a forbidden fruit wrapped in something sacred.

Eyes wild.

Lips swollen.

Chest rising like she’d just drowned and didn’t know if she wanted to come up for air again.

"God, Aria," I rasped, voice shredded, drunk off her. "You have no idea how much I’ve missed you."

I didn’t wait for her to answer. My mouth found hers again, more desperate this time, no grace, no hesitation. Just need. Pure, clawing, starved need.

Her hands were everywhere. In my hair. Around my shoulders. Gripping my shirt like it had wronged her.

And mine? Mine were on her thighs, her hips, dragging her impossibly closer, grounding myself in the feel of her. Her weight. Her heat. Her goddamn heartbeat.

Like mine.

Like we were synced in chaos again.

"I thought I was losing my fucking mind without you," I murmured between kisses, lifting her in one clean pull, her legs wrapping around me like second nature. "I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t eat. Couldn’t fucking breathe."

She didn’t say anything.

Just clung harder.

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