Kiss The Villain: Chapter 28

“I’m here!” I announce as I step into the apartment. “I brought food so we don’t have to worry about cooking.”

The first thing that hits me is the silence.

It’s oppressive.

Usually, he has some boring classical music playing.

The second thing is the relative darkness.

A ball of fur rubs against my leg, and I crouch to scoop Moka into my arms. She snuggles close, purring softly. “What’s up, girl? Did Kayden not come home yet?”

It’s weird to call this place home, but I guess it kind of is.

She meows, her eyes glowing faintly in the low light. “Aw, are you hungry?”

A long, dramatic meow confirms it.

I drop the bag on the kitchen counter, fill her empty bowl, and leave her to eat before heading to the bedroom.

He should be here by now since he only teaches in the morning today.

“Kayden?”

My feet halt the moment I step inside. Dim light casts eerie shadows across the room, and Kayden’s restless form lies tangled in the bedcovers. At first, I think it’s strange he’s sleeping this early.

But then I notice the shivers racking his body, the furrowed brow, and the sweat plastering his jet-black hair to his forehead.

The sound of his labored breathing fills the silence, and my chest tightens as I move closer.

“Kayde?”

I touch his shoulder, and his entire body stiffens, heat radiating into my hand like a furnace. His skin burns feverishly, and his lips are discolored as he grunts and mumbles something unintelligible.

I lean down, listening. Most of the words are jumbled nonsense, but then I catch it.

“No…no…don’t…touch…”

I’ve always seen him as invincible, indestructible. But right now? He looks vulnerable. Just human. And it makes something shift deep inside me.

A need to protect him from whatever nightmare has him trapped.

For the first time, I take his big hand in mine, stroking the veins on the back. “How did you even get so sick? Were you walking in the rain again? What’s the point of having a car if you won’t use it, idiot?”

Slowly, I brush the strands of damp hair away from his face. Sick people shouldn’t look this hot. Just saying.

He was coughing the other day after coming back from a short trip to his dad’s firm in the States. And, yeah, he’s been using the glasses more—not that I’m complaining—but this is the first time I’ve seen him like this.

Well, aside from that one time when his moms were here.

“I’ll go buy you some meds,” I say, starting to get up, but his fingers tighten around mine.

“Don’t…go…”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I murmur, stroking his hand again. Weirdly, it feels natural, like I should be doing it more often. “You’ll never get rid of me, Kayde. Remember?”

He doesn’t reply, but his grip relaxes, and I peel his hand away, then I place a cool, wet rag on his forehead.

After telling Moka to hold down the fort, I drive to a night pharmacy and come back with a bag full of meds—and some English porridge.

When I return, Kayden’s still burning up, and Moka’s curled by his head, purring away.

“You feel bad for him, too?” I scratch under her chin before focusing on him.

He’s so out of it, I have to sit him up and carefully pour the medicine into his mouth. Then, noticing the drenched sheets, I wrestle his ridiculously huge body to lay a clean blanket underneath and swap out the duvet.

I wipe him down to cool him off, which would be easier if his cock didn’t thicken beneath my touch.

Seriously? Sick and a tease?

It takes all my self-control to cover him up and stop looking.

Finally, I lie beside him, keeping an eye on his fever throughout the night, with Moka offering her emotional support in the form of soothing purrs.

At some point, I must fall asleep, because I wake up to something hard pressing against my ass and heavy arms wrapped snugly around my waist.

My own cock swells against my shorts, and I groan when his crown presses against the thin fabric and slips between the crack of my ass.

Let’s just say I’m not wearing anything beneath the shorts—his influence. No shirt either. Again, thanks to him. He’s always walking around half naked, so I might have picked up the habit.

His fingers find my nipple, pinching and rubbing as his face buries into my nape, his lips sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin.

“I missed you, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly.

I’m so turned on and disoriented that all I manage is a strangled moan.

“I love how you’re pushing back into my cock. Mmm.” His teeth graze my nape, sending a shiver down my spine. “I want to mark you, to breed you.”

My throat dries, and I strain to look at him, catching the glassy haze in his eyes. The clock reads four in the morning, and the heat radiating from him confirms he’s still feverish.

“You’re speaking nonsense,” I mutter, trying to pull away despite the fire he’s ignited inside me. “Just go to sleep.”

“I’ve never been more serious. I want to own you, to chain you to me,” he whispers, nibbling on my ear. “You can’t leave me.”

“I won’t.”

“Promise.”

“I promise.”

“You can’t go back on that promise, Gareth.”

“I won’t.”

I stroke his hair, pressing the back of my hand to his forehead. “I’ll get you some more medicine.”

But when I try to move, his grip on my stomach tightens, and he thrusts his cock against my hole, the fabric of my shorts doing little to shield me from the sensation.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he growls.

“Fuck…Kayde. You’re feverish.”

“Don’t care.” His lips trail over my neck, the lobe of my ear, my jaw—everywhere he can reach. “I need to stuff you full of my cum.”

“You can barely breathe, Jesus—” I groan as his fingers pinch my nipple again, sending shock waves through me.

He’s got me so worked up I can hardly think, let alone take his sickness into account.

“Let me hear your voice,” he murmurs, his tone husky and demanding. “I love how you groan and moan whenever I touch you.”

I push myself upright, sitting up and trying to create some distance, but my ass clenches, and my cock throbs so hard, it’s difficult to catch my breath.

Kayden lies sprawled out on his back, the duvet discarded, his naked body fully exposed. My gaze drops to his cock—hard, thick, and veined purple, pointing right at me like it owns me.

He grabs my hips, dragging me onto him so that my legs straddle his waist.

“Ride me, baby,” he breathes, his voice rough with need. “Show me how much you want me.”

My first instinct is to shake my head. I’m not a girl, and while I love the subtle variation of feminization kink—yup, googled it, that’s what it’s called in D/s circles—because him calling my ass cunt or pussy turns me on, I sure as hell don’t want him thinking I am an actual girl. The way he talks about my ass is the only aspect of feminization I like and I told him that. He also only uses the name calling in a power exchange way where he dominates me and I submit.

That’s all.

While the idea of being on top of him like this sends a jolt of fire through my bones, I ask, “Do you like being ridden?”

“Not really. I actually prefer always being on top, but I want to see you like this,” he replies, his droopy eyes fixed on me as his hand palms my cock through my shorts and squeezes my balls. “My own little monster fucking himself on my cock.”

A strangled whimper leaves me as his words light me the fuck up.

His cock nudges against my ass, and I release a choked noise as I lift myself, strip off my shorts, and reach for the lube in his drawer.

His big hands rest on my hips as he watches my every movement, his chest going up and down in a slightly perturbed rhythm.

My hand shakes a bit as I’m about to squirt the lube into it, but he shakes his head.

“What?”

“Spit on your hand first, baby.”

I find myself doing just that, because I apparently fold when he orders me around. I love it, I just truly love the way he makes me stop thinking.

He says I’m more of a brat lately, but it’s because I want to hear him order and dominate and force me to my knees.

I reach behind me and jerk him up and down with my spit and then add some lube and squeeze him roughly like we both like.

His grunts are reassuring, but not entirely.

I’m so used to him doing all the work, this is making me feel self-conscious. Sure, he usually makes me lube him, but he never makes me actually put him in me.

“Want me to do it?” he asks, reading me so openly, it should be disturbing.

I let out a stuttering breath and shake my head because he wants to see me do it. I read it loud and clear in those darkened eyes, and for some reason, I need to prove I do want him.

“Get my fuckhole nice and wet, baby.”

My hand is a bit steadier as I finger my hole a bit, getting some lube inside me.

“Whose pussy are you touching, Gareth?”

“Y-yours.”

“That’s right. Mine. So make it wetter.”

“Mff. I want your cock.”

“Not yet. Go deeper, get more lube inside you.”

I grunt, my cock twitching at the order as I add another finger and loosen myself up. “Please, Kayde.”

“Please what?”

“Please let me put your cock in my dripping cunt.”

“Jesus fuck. Sit on my cock. Now.”

I don’t have to be told twice. I remove my fingers, latch on to his slick cock, and align it with my back hole, then push down slightly.

Our groans mix together as his crown nudges inside me.

“Fuck, baby. You look like a god.” He reaches a hand up and pinches my nipples, then rubs and presses, playing with them in ways that make me delirious.

So I relax further, taking more of him in, throwing my head back at the sensation. I love how his cock stretches me until it’s painful. I love the pain because I know, soon, intense pleasure will follow.

Every time he’s inside me, I can’t help the low hum that rips out of my throat or how my cock pulses. It’s resting close to his tattooed abs now, the snake glistening with sweat.

“Mmfuck!” I scream when he pulls me down all the way, his pelvis and balls slapping against my ass.

My cock leaks as it hits his abs and I grunt, placing both hands on his chest, for balance.

“Good boy,” he says in a low growl. “Take my cock in my pussy.”

I let out a strangled noise of desire, his words humming through me with raw power.

“I might call it pussy, but this feels better than anything I’ve been in before. No other pussy or ass can compare.”

“Oh fuck…say that again, please…”

“Say what again, baby?”

“That I feel b-better than anyone else.”

“You do. You’re my favorite fuck.”

“And the first man you fucked because you couldn’t stay away?”

“Yes, baby. You make me lose control.”

“And the only man you’ll ever fuck?”

“You’re my one and only.”

My cock leaks all over him, my muscles relaxing, my mind going to that happy place. “Fucking hell. I’m so… turned on.”

“I can feel it. You’re making a mess on my stomach.”

“Can’t…stop myself.” I’m breathing harshly, letting my body accommodate his size. It’s a moment he always gives me, usually kissing and praising me.

“You with me, baby?”

“Yeah…”

“Does it hurt?”

“A bit, but I like that.”

“Mmm. I know you do.”

“Kayde…”

“Talk to me.”

“You feel so good.”

A small smile lifts his lips. “You like my cock inside you?”

“Mmmff.” With my hands on his chest, I lift my hips and then come down.

My movements are awkward at first, but I soon work up a rhythm and Kayden lets me. He doesn’t interfere, being patient as I fumble around. Then, soon, I’m going up and down, riding him with everything in me, letting his cock hit deeper and deeper.

“Is that all you got, baby?”

My body snaps into a rougher rhythm at the challenge, whimpering as he thrusts up once, and his eyes light up because he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

He kneads my ass. “Whose cunt is this?”

“Mmm. Y-yours.”

“You’re so goddamn beautiful, Gareth.”

“Say…say that again.” My rhythm is so fast, my cock bobs on his abs and his balls slap my ass.

“You’re so beautiful, mesmerizing, unearthly. You’re the most beautiful fucking thing in this universe, baby.”

“Ah, fuck…Kayde…fuck…more…please…”

“My own pretty little monster looks like a sex god.”

“Fuck…please…more…”

“If perfection exists, it’s you, baby. You’re made for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes…yes…”

He thrusts from the bottom, making me bounce on his cock, hitting my prostate, and ramming inside me with a force not fit for someone who’s sick.

“You’re riding my cock like a very good boy.”

“Holyfuckingshit… I’m gonna…come⁠—”

“Not yet.” With a grunt, he sits up and pushes me all the way back so I’m lying down, then he pulls his thighs from beneath me and pulls the crown of my fully erect cock into his mouth.

I grunt as he sucks the orgasm out of me while still ramming his cock inside me, against my sensitive spot over and over and over.

My grunts are inhuman as I reach for his hair, pulling. “I’m… Fuck, your mouth feels so good, fuuuuck!”

I rock my hips up, coming in spurts down his throat, and he swallows it all, as he swells and pulses inside me.

“Yes, yes, please…come in my ass, please, Kayde…fuck!!” I’m begging in mumbled, jagged breaths as he pumps into me so deep, I’m sure he’s carving himself inside me.

He shoots off, filling me up as my cock pops out of his mouth. And I stare, in a fucking sex daze as he licks his lip while holding my eyes.

Making me watch him swallow my cum.

My spent dick twitches and I rock my hips, milking him, taking every last drop.

“You’re a goddamn masterpiece, baby.”

My heart soars and I reach out my hand, but before I can touch him, he pulls out and then he’s shoving my legs up in the air and licking his cum clean.

“Kayde!” I moan as he thrusts his tongue inside me. “Jesus Christ. That’s… Fuck!”

“We’re not wasting any cum, baby,” he groans, eating my ass until I’m delirious. “My pussy tastes so good.”

“Kayde…that feels good…mmmfuckkk.” I’m writhing, grunting, and moaning, as his hums vibrate against my back hole.

My body, head, and soul are so full of him, I feel like I’ll burst.

Like one day, this will get to be too much, and I’ll lock him the fuck up. In a basement. An ivory tower.

Anywhere where only I get to have him.

There will be no exes, no nothing. I’ll purge them all out of his mind, body, and goddamn memories if needed.

Finally, he crawls on top of me, his slick body rubbing against mine as he brings us nose to nose.

I don’t think about it as I open my mouth. I probably shouldn’t since he’s sick, but fuck if I care.

He spits inside it, then kisses me, hard, sucking my face, and I kiss him back with the same urgency, running my fingers through his hair.

My head is so dizzy, but I hold on to the now—the way his chest vibrates against mine, how tightly he holds me, and how, when he releases my lips, his breaths shake against my nape. It’s like he’s silently admitting I affect him as much as he affects me.

It’s that white room again. Quiet. Peaceful.

He’s the only person who’s ever managed to tame my demons, shove them back into that void, and gag them the fuck up.

And I want this for my whole life.

I never want to leave his embrace.

Kayden flips us so that I’m lying on top of him. He always does this, probably to keep from crushing me. Not that I’m light, but I like this side of him.

His eyes flutter closed, his breaths evening out, and I lean on my arms on his chest. Slowly, I stroke his hair, his forehead, his face. It’s the most I’ve ever touched him, even after sex.

He hums faintly in his throat.

I think he likes it.

And I like that he likes it.

Still, guilt nags at me. He’s sick, and I had sex with him anyway. He seems more drained than usual.

Since when do I feel guilt?

Growing soft, are we?

Shut up, demon.

“Hey, Kayde?”

“Hmm?” His eyes stay closed, his voice soft and raspy.

“What do you think about moving back to the States?”

His eyes snap open, suddenly alert. “What?”

I swallow, unsure why I’m even bringing this up. We’re not really in a relationship—not officially, as V loves to remind me.

“I mean, I was accepted into Yale, Harvard, and Princeton, so transferring is an option. I could pick Harvard, and you could teach at a nearby college. That way, we wouldn’t be in the same place.”

“Why?”

I hate it when he replies to my rambling with a single question. It forces me to talk more, which isn’t my strong suit when it comes to him. God, it was so much easier when I hated him and constantly threatened to stab him.

With a sigh, I say, “So there aren’t any stupid codes we’re breaking if we’re seen together in public.”

He wraps an arm around my back, his hand rubbing soothing circles as he squeezes my legs between his.

And now I’m distracted again because I love how he showers me with affection.

“You want to come out?” His low voice demands my attention.

“I don’t know about coming out. I’ve decided I don’t like labels, so I’m not doing that. I’ve accepted I’m into you, and that’s that. But I want to take you to meet my parents and grandpa. Maybe my cousin Niko, too—he keeps teasing me about it, so why not? Maya and Mia as well. Maya’s the one who keeps recommending those soapy dramas. Oh, and my brother, but you better not fall for his bullshit, or I swear I will stab you.”

I pant, having said the last bit in one breath.

Kayden stays silent, and my chest tightens more the longer the pause stretches.

“Say something. If you don’t want to, tell me⁠—”

“I do want to, and I’m extremely proud of you, baby.”

The praise warms me, and I press closer to him, soaking it in.

I lift my head to look at him. “You’re really proud of me?”

“Mmm. You’ve come a long way.”

“Is it okay if I don’t believe I’m gay? I think I’m just fluid or ace. I don’t want to box myself in.”

“Then don’t. And don’t ask if it’s okay. People are different and don’t usually share the same experience, especially for something as complex as sexuality. I like you the way you are and that’s that.”

“God,” I breathe out, my voice catching. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Be so accepting? You don’t even seem hung up on your own sexuality.”

“Life is too short. All I need to know is that we’re sexually compatible and that I wanted you from the first time I saw you.”

I form a V at my chin with my thumb and forefinger. “Because I’m beautiful?”

“There’s that, but I also wanted to explore that untapped rebellious submissive streak I saw in your eyes when I had my shoe on your cock and you trembled.”

“Asshole,” I mutter, stroking a line across his chest.

He laughs. “Wasn’t I right?”

“Fine. I love the pain and submission, but only if you’re the one dominating me and making me take it.”

“And that’s how it’ll always be.”

“Deal.” I grin. “Back to my earlier suggestion. When will you come to meet my family?”

“Not now.” I feel him stiffen.

“Why not?”

He strokes my hair. “Remember when I told you I couldn’t come out for security reasons?”

“Yeah.”

“I truly can’t. My family wouldn’t accept it.”

“But Rachel and Jina…”

“Can’t set foot in the States if they want to remain safe. I can only see them when I travel to Europe.”

“Oh.” My heart sinks. “Is your family one of those that’s homophobic bigots?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Massive pain in the ass—no pun intended.”

“Can’t you just disown them?”

“It’s not that simple.”

I swallow hard, the weight of it hitting me. I thought the professor-student thing was our only hurdle, but this feels bigger, and more permanent.

“So there’s no hope?” I whisper.

“There’s always hope.” He kisses my forehead, his lips lingering as if to reassure me. “Just give me time, baby, okay?”

I nod, grinning as he strokes my dimples. He’s obsessed with them—probably why I’ve been smiling more than usual lately.

It’s not because I actually feel like I’m bursting out of my skin with excitement whenever I see him or anything equally ridiculous.

I let my fingers skim over his collarbone, the strong lines there. “Sooo does this mean we’re in a relationship now?”

“Weren’t we always?”

“We were?”

“That’s what being exclusive means.”

“V said fuck buddies are different from relationships.”

His hand fists in my hair, tightening his grip. “Who’s V?”

“A friend.”

“What type of friend?”

“We grew up together in the States. You done being jealous?”

“Depends on how close you are.”

“We discuss dicks.” I grin. “Is that close enough for you?”

“Gareth…”

I chuckle, my chest vibrating against his. God, I think I like seeing him jealous.

“Relax. We’re just close because we’re both new to the whole being-into-guys thing.”

“I still don’t like it.”

I shrug. “Price you pay for being with a beauty like me. Everyone loves me.”

“The ego is staggering.”

“It suits your inflexible personality.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. One of us has to be a people person. Honestly, you’re lucky to have the Gareth Carson. Must’ve done so many good things in your past life.”

“The elusive Gareth Carson no one can have is all mine?”

“Uh-huh. You’ve seriously hit the jackpot.”

“I have?”

“Duh. You’re welcome, Professor.”

He laughs, the sound deep and warm, and then he brushes his lips against mine and he kisses me. Sort of…slowly, without urgency or the animalistic way that usually leads to sex.

He’s kissing me like he’s worshipping me, and I vibrate, my whole body melting into his, stroking him everywhere, touching his hair, his face, his jaw.

Because we’re in a relationship.

Kayden and I are together—have been for a while, apparently, because V is an idiot.

He needs his own Reddit thread.

Anyway, if time could just stop right now, that’d be great. Thanks.

When I wake up, it’s ten in the morning, and I curse myself for it. Must be because I barely slept, keeping an eye on Kayden’s fever.

He’s left me breakfast and a text.

So, yeah, I kind of changed his name from Devil to Kayde a while ago.

I’m even contemplating My Man, but my demons might revolt from the cringe overdose.

After a shower, I sit on our bed, absentmindedly petting Moka while typing.

He left me on Read, probably because he’s in class.

I’m bummed I didn’t see him this morning, but I could always swing by his office on campus.

Since that day he punished me for the first time, it’s become a thing, and honestly? I love the thrill of it.

Not that I should see him before tonight, but I already miss him. It’s not even funny how much I want to be with him at all times.

There has to be a name for this disease. Maybe I’ll ask Reddit and let them troll me again. I definitely need to tell V the good news about the relationship and call him out on his stupid advice.

He’ll probably tell me this is totally normal and call me dramatic.

I’m starting to suspect V knows exactly who I am, but like me, he probably prefers it this way.

After I get dressed, I sit at the kitchen counter, eating breakfast and playing with Moka.

When my phone vibrates, I grin, popping a strawberry in my mouth and grabbing it. I knew Kayden couldn’t stay away.

But my smile vanishes the second I see the text is from an unknown number.

My ears ring as I click on it.

A mist of red clouds my vision as I watch a happy couple walking down the aisle, laughing as confetti falls around them and cheers erupt from the crowd.

The cheers are so loud, they rattle my bones like I’m hearing them from underground.

But I can’t tear my gaze away from the bride’s and groom’s glowing, blissful smiles.

I can’t look away from the tall stunning brunette and the tiny lily tattoo on her wrist—the same tattoo I’ve seen countless times before.

I can’t look away from Kayden and his wife.