Chapter 20 #2
Kai’s jaw tightens further. His gaze drops to the floor for a second, then lifts again. The jealousy is still there—quiet, simmering, not explosive, but unmistakable in the way his eyes narrow slightly and his shoulders tense.
“What are we?”
The question lands heavy between us. I can see the insecurity flickering behind the jealousy—the fear that I’m still torn, that Whitney still has a piece of me.
I hate that I put that look on his face.
Before I can answer, Kai moves. He closes the distance in two steps, grabs the front of my shirt, and kisses me.
It’s desperate. Possessive. His mouth crashes into mine like he’s trying to erase every word Whitney said, like he’s claiming me right here in the middle of the villa. His fingers twist tighter in my shirt, pulling me flush against him as his tongue slides against mine—hot, demanding, hungry.
I groan into the kiss, hands automatically finding his waist. He walks me backward until my back hits the cool glass wall. The towel around his hips slips lower but doesn’t fall. I can feel him—already half-hard, pressing against my thigh through the thin fabric.
He breaks the kiss just enough to speak against my mouth, voice rough and edged with that jealous heat.
“I don’t want to share you.”
The words hit me hard—raw, honest, a little feral. His hand slides down between us, palming me through my shorts, squeezing just enough to make my hips jerk forward.
“You’re mine,” he whispers, biting my bottom lip. “Not hers. Not anyone else’s.”
Fuck. Kai, when he loses control, is like a fucking drug hitting my system. I’m instantly hard, throbbing under his touch. I grab his hips and pull him closer, grinding against his hand as I kiss him back just as fiercely.
But even through the heat, I remember the paps.
I break the kiss, breathing hard, forehead pressed to his.
“Kai… the photographers. They’re still out there. They could see us through the glass.”
He doesn’t pull away. His eyes are dark, lips swollen, cheeks flushed. The jealousy is still there, but it’s mixed with something hotter now.
“Let them take pictures,” he says, voice low and rough. “Let them see.”
Then he kisses me again—deeper, more possessive—his hand slipping inside my shorts to wrap around my cock.
He strokes me once, twice, firm and sure, then breaks the kiss and drops to his knees right there in front of the glass wall.
My breath catches.
The towel around his hips slips off completely as he kneels, but he doesn’t care. His eyes are dark, focused only on me. No hesitation. No glance toward the windows where the paps are almost certainly still lurking.
He tugs my shorts down just enough to free me. My cock springs out, hard and leaking, and Kai doesn’t waste time. He leans in and drags his tongue slowly from the base all the way to the tip, flat and wet, savoring every inch.
“Fuck, Kai—”
He hums in response, then takes me into his mouth—deep, warm, perfect. His lips stretch around me as he sinks down, hollowing his cheeks and sucking. I groan, one hand flying to his damp hair, the other bracing against the glass behind me.
He doesn’t go easy.
He works me with purpose—bobbing his head, tongue swirling on every upstroke, taking me deeper each time until I’m nudging the back of his throat. The wet, filthy sounds fill the quiet villa, mixing with my ragged breathing.
But he doesn’t stop there.
His hand slides between my legs, cupping my balls, rolling them gently as he sucks me. His fingers are slick from spit that’s dripping down my shaft. He tugs lightly, massages, then moves lower—two fingers pressing firmly against my taint, rubbing circles over the sensitive skin.
My hips jerk. A broken moan escapes me.
“Shit—yes—”
Kai pulls off my cock with a wet pop, lips shiny, eyes locked on mine as he presses harder against my taint. Then he leans in again—this time his tongue follows his fingers, licking a stripe over my balls, then lower, circling my entrance.
I nearly lose my mind.
He licks me there—open-mouthed, filthy, no shame, urging my legs wider—tongue pressing and teasing, while his hand strokes my cock in steady pulls. The dual sensation is overwhelming. My legs shake. I grip his hair tighter, trying to stay upright.
“Kai—fuck—you don’t have to—”
He looks up at me, eyes dark and hungry, lips glistening.
“I want to,” he says, voice hoarse. “Let me.”
Then he dives back in.
His mouth is everywhere—sucking my balls, licking my taint, tongue pressing insistently against my hole, while his hand works my cock faster.
He’s completely lost in it, not caring about the glass wall behind me or the cameras outside.
He’s focused only on me—on making me feel good, on claiming every inch of me.
I’m shaking. Moaning his name louder than I’ve ever moaned for anyone else.
He slides one slick finger inside me—just the tip at first, then deeper—curling it perfectly, while his tongue keeps working over my taint and his hand strokes me relentlessly. I don’t have time to even think about the fact that it’s the first time anyone has put their finger inside of me.
The pressure builds fast—too fast.
“Kai—I’m gonna—”
He doesn’t pull away.
He takes me deep into his throat again, swallowing around me as his finger presses against that spot inside.
I come with a choked groan, hips stuttering, spilling down his throat in hot pulses. He swallows every drop, milking me through it until I’m whimpering, oversensitive, tugging weakly at his hair.
Only then does he pull off, licking me clean with soft, gentle strokes of his tongue.
When he finally stands, his lips are swollen and shiny, eyes dark with satisfaction.
Before I can catch my breath or say anything, Kai’s hands are on my shoulders. He pulls me away from the glass wall and reaches over to yank the curtains closed with one sharp tug. The room darkens instantly, cutting off the outside world and the clicking cameras.
He turns back to me, eyes still blazing with that same possessive heat. His hand slides down my arm until our fingers lace together, and he starts walking backward, leading me toward the bed.
“I want to fuck you,” he says, voice low and rough. “I want to be inside you.”
My stomach flips.
I’ve never bottomed before. Never even come close. The idea has always felt too vulnerable, too exposed. I’ve always been the one in charge, the one on top, the one calling the shots.
I swallow and open my mouth to tell him no, absolutely not, but he cups my face with both hands and looks into my eyes.
“I want to feel you squeezing me.”
“Kai, I—” I shake my head, my words trailing off. “I don’t bottom.”
Kai doesn’t pull away. His thumbs stroke my cheeks, gentle but firm, and his dark eyes hold mine without flinching. There’s heat there, yes, but also something steady and determined.
“I know,” he says quietly. “I can tell. But I want this. I want you like that. I want to make you feel good.”
His voice is calm, controlled—the same calm he uses on stage when everything is falling apart around him. It’s the voice that makes me want to trust him even when my instincts scream to stay in control.
He leans in and kisses me, slow, deep, and reassuring. “I’ll stop the second you say,” he murmurs against my lips. “But let me try. Let me take care of you.”
I hesitate. My heart is hammering. The vulnerability feels terrifying, being the one opened up, the one taken instead of taking.
But it’s Kai.
I nod, swallowing hard.
“Okay,” I whisper. “But…go slow.”
His smile is small, warm, and a little relieved. “I will.”
He kisses me again and guides me down onto the bed.
I lie back against the cool sheets, heart racing, body still buzzing from the orgasm he just gave me. Kai crawls over me, settling between my legs, his hands never leaving my skin—stroking my thighs, my hips, my chest—like he can’t stop touching me.
He leans down and kisses me again, while one hand slides between my legs. His fingers are slick—he must have grabbed lube from somewhere while I was lost in the aftershocks—and he circles my entrance gently, patiently, waiting for me to relax.
“Relax for me,” he murmurs against my lips. “I’ve got you.”
I exhale shakily and try to let go.
His finger presses in, and this time the stretch is strange, intense, but not bad. He watches my face the whole time, kissing me softly whenever I tense, whispering praise against my mouth.
“That’s it… you’re doing so good…”
When he adds a second finger and curls them just right, a sharp spark of pleasure shoots through me. I gasp, hips jerking up.
Kai smiles against my lips.
“There you go.”
He keeps working me open until I’m shaking and moaning into his mouth, cock hardening again between us. Only then does he pull his fingers out, roll a condom on, and slick himself up.
He lines up, pressing the head of his cock against me.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispers.
I nod, heart pounding so loud inside my ears I’m sure he can hear it.
He pushes in—slow, steady, inch by inch—and the stretch burns, but it’s mixed with something deeper, something electric. When he bottoms out, we both groan.
Kai stays still, buried inside me, forehead pressed to mine.
“Fuck… you feel incredible,” he breathes. “So tight… so perfect.”
His next thrust is deeper, harder, and a helpless moan tears out of me.
My hands fly to his back, nails digging into his skin as I cling to him.
He doesn’t speed up. He keeps that steady, devastating rhythm—pulling almost all the way out, then sliding back in slow enough that I feel every inch, every ridge, every pulse of him inside me.
The pleasure builds in waves, each one higher than the last. My cock is trapped between our stomachs, leaking steadily, sliding against his abs with every thrust. Every time he bottoms out, the head of his cock glides perfectly against that spot inside me, sending white-hot sparks shooting up my spine.
I’m shaking. Whimpering. My legs tighten around his waist, heels digging into his lower back, silently begging for more.
He shifts his angle slightly and thrusts harder, still controlled, but deeper, more purposeful. The new angle makes my vision blur. A broken cry escapes me as pleasure crashes through me, so intense it almost hurts.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, voice dark and soothing at the same time. “Let go for me. I’ve got you.”
His hand slides between us, wrapping around my cock and stroking in time with his thrusts. The dual sensation is overwhelming, his cock dragging inside me, his fist working me outside. I’m panting, gasping his name, completely lost to the feeling of being filled.
He kisses me, swallowing my moans as he fucks me harder, faster, drilling me into the mattress.
I’m close again. So close.
“Kai—I’m—”
“Come for me,” he growls against my mouth. “Want to feel you come while I’m inside you.”
His strokes speed up. His hips snap forward—deep, perfect, and relentless—and I shatter.
I come with a strangled cry, cock pulsing between us, painting both our stomachs with hot streaks. My body clamps down around him, squeezing him tight as wave after wave crashes through me.
Kai groans—low, broken—and thrusts through it, drawing out my orgasm until I’m whimpering and trembling beneath him.
Only then does he let himself go.
He buries his face in my neck, hips stuttering as he comes deep inside me. The sensation is overwhelming, intimate, almost too much. Yet, not enough, because I want to feel him fill me.
He collapses on top of me, breathing hard, still buried inside me.
We stay like that for a long moment—tangled, sticky, hearts pounding against each other—while the ocean laps gently beneath the villa.
Kai presses a soft kiss to my neck, then my jaw, then my lips.
“You okay?” he whispers.
I nod, too wrecked to speak.
He smiles against my mouth. “Good.”