Sweet Hatred-Chapter 222: a kiss for the millionth time

Her mouth opened under mine like she’d been waiting for this too, and she moaned into me like it hurt to finally have it.

I carried her toward the couch, stumbling a little because my knees were jelly and my hands refused to leave her. We landed messy. Lips still tangled. Her hair in my mouth. Her fingers under my shirt. My hand under hers.

"Kael," she breathed, whisper-shattered, like she didn’t trust the sound of my name in her throat.

"Say it again," I begged against her collarbone, kissing, biting, losing it.

"Kael," she whispered, louder now. Needier.

Mine.

I laid her down flat on the couch and hovered over her, not touching, just watching, fucking memorizing the way she looked beneath me. Eyes glazed. Chest heaving. Lips parted and glossy from all the kissing.

"I need you," I told her.

She blinked.

Like she didn’t know if I meant now or always.

The answer was both.

Always. Always her.

And before she could pull away or talk herself out of it or remind me of that goddamn contract, I kissed her again.

Slower now.

Deeper.

Her arms circled around my neck and pulled me down with her.

I kissed her jaw, her throat, the space between her collarbones. I touched her like prayer. Like repentance. Like worship wrapped in obsession.

And when I looked into her eyes, I wasn’t Kael Roman anymore, the CEO, the heir, the cold-blooded bastard.

I was just a man in love. Even if she didn’t love me back.

I was a man. Desperate. Addicted. Hers.

"I don’t care about the contract," I told her hoarsely. "I don’t care about anything but this, you. Right here. With me."

Her eyes flickered, like she was torn between belief and fear.

"I want you," I said. "Not because I bought you. Not because I can’t let go. I want you because you’re mine, Aria. In every goddamn way."

I dipped lower, brushing her lips again, softly now, achingly so.

"Let me have you," I whispered against her mouth. "Just tonight. Just this. Let me worship you like I was meant to."

She didn’t say yes. But she didn’t stop me either. And that was all I needed.

I could’ve drowned in the taste of her.

The softness of her lips. The tension in her shoulders. The slight tremble in her thighs when I kissed her the way I used to, like I was dying and she was the only thing keeping me alive.

But then a knock came. Once and sharp. I knew who it was but I didn’t stop.

The knock came again.

I bit back a curse.

Another fucking interruption.

I peeled myself off her, slow and reluctant, and stalked toward the door like I was ready to kill who stood behind it.

I flung it open. "What?"

Niko stood there, calm as ever, but the tight line of his jaw told me it wasn’t good.

He gave me a sharp nod. "We have a problem. The man from earlier, Aria’s little punching bag, somehow got hold of a weapon. He’s taken one of the guests hostage. Claims he won’t drop her unless he speaks directly to ’the man in charge. He seems to have another purpose for causing a ruckus.’"

I rubbed a hand over my face. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

"So handle it," I said coldly.

Niko didn’t move. "There’s a complication."

"Of course there is."

"He’s the son of Nathaniel Crane."

That made me pause.

I stared at him, deadpan. "The Nathaniel Crane."

Niko nodded once. "Billionaire venture capitalist. The same one funneling private military funds into the ZephyrCore prototype via shell companies. He’s here. At the gala. So is his board."

I inhaled deeply, rage prickling down my spine. "So you can’t kill him."

"Not in front of witnesses."

I stared past Niko for a second, jaw clenching. Just once, I wanted one night that didn’t feel like I was standing in a minefield barefoot.

I glanced behind me, and there she was.

Putting her shirt back on.

The sight made something snap inside me.

"Give me five," I told Niko, before shutting the door with a hard click.

I turned to Aria.

She was straightening her hair, fixing her shirt like she hadn’t just been melted under my mouth. Like I hadn’t just brought her to the edge of that cliff we’ve danced around for weeks.

"Where do you think you’re going?," I said, voice low, eyes drinking in her like a starved man.

She didn’t look at me. "You have something important to deal with. I’ll get out of your way."

My fists clenched. "Don’t."

"Don’t what?" she muttered, reaching for her blazer. "I’m not causing a scene. I know how to excuse myself."

"You’re not excusing yourself from anything," I growled, taking a step toward her. "You’re going to stay here and wait for me. I won’t be long."

"I have shit to do too, Kael," she snapped, still not looking at me. "This gala doesn’t run itself. I can’t just sit around and, "

I didn’t let her finish.

I reached her in two strides, grabbed her wrist, and crushed her lips with mine for the millionth time. She gasped, but I swallowed the sound, kissed her until her knees buckled and her fingers clutched my shirt like it was the only thing keeping her upright.

"You’re so damn stubborn," I murmured against her mouth. "Is it so hard to listen for once?"

Her lips trembled. "Wait..."

I pushed the shirt off her shoulders again, mouth trailing over her neck, her collarbone, the spot just under her ear that made her shudder.

"You should learn to be obedient sometimes," I whispered. "Especially when I’m asking so nicely."

Her breath hitched. "You’re not asking."

"No," I whispered darkly, "I’m not."

I kissed her again. Slower this time. Sinking my teeth into her bottom lip, breathing her in like I needed her in my lungs just to survive. Because I did.

By the time I pulled away, she was disheveled, dazed, and glaring.

I brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. "Stay here. Don’t make me come find you."

She didn’t answer.

She didn’t need to.

I smirked, kissed her one last time so deep and filthy and selfish and then I turned to leave.

Because even if she walked out, and I came back to her absence, it didn’t matter.

She couldn’t hide from me.

She never could.

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