Rehab for SuperVillains (18+)-Chapter 74: One more round?

"One more round?"

Kael asked.

Freya didn’t hesitate, her usual guarded restraint gone, replaced by a raw honesty that felt both foreign and freeing.

"Yes," she said, the word spilling from her lips, simple and certain, her hips grinding subtly, seeking him instinctively.

Kael’s grip loosened, giving her space, and she turned to face him, her naked body glowing in the kitchen’s dim blue light, the garter belt and stockings framing her curves like a lingering echo of their game.

Her face was softer now, no longer the uptight mask of a queen or the tear-streaked mess of moments ago.

A completely different person, whom he was meeting for the first time. Maybe her true self as he asked for.

Her blue eyes, clear and searching, locked onto his, drinking in his features—his sharp jaw, the faint stubble, the warmth in his gaze that promised more than lust.

"You promise?" she asked, voice quiet but steady, needing to hear it again, to know his words about catching her, about seeing her, held weight rather than blunt nothings.

Kael nodded, his hand rising to caress her cheek, thumb tracing the curve gently.

She looked into his eyes, they were honest, sincere, caring. Not the ones she had expected him to have when he saw her turn into a mess.

"I promise," he said, voice firm, sincere, leaning in as she did, their lips meeting in a kiss that burned with passion, not just desire.

It wasn’t the hungry, sexual clash of earlier—this was deeper, a collision of souls laid bare.

For Freya, the last few minutes had been a trainwreck: shame, humiliation, the mirror forcing her to face the girl she’d buried, to look at the face she’d hated the most, Kael’s words shattering her belief in the mask she’d worn for years.

He’d broken her, her entire foundation, not to destroy, but to rebuild, pouring confidence into her cracks, coaxing her to accept the real her—vulnerable, strong, whole.

Maybe this was a risk to trust this man. But...

She’d gambled everything on him, this man who saw her raw self which she hadn’t shown to anyone else in years, trusting him to guide her to who she could be.

Losing him now would be like losing her identity, a fear that clung to her even as she leaned into him.

Their kiss deepened, and Freya moved first, unthinking, her fingers grazing his chest, tracing the hard lines of muscle beneath his skin.

Her hands roamed higher, circling his neck, threading into his dark hair, tugging lightly as she felt him—not just his body, but him, the person who’d seen her at her core.

Her heart raced, a desperate need to hold him, to anchor herself to this moment, this man who knew her like no one else, including herself.

Her lips slipped from his, trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses down his neck, tasting the salt and something sweet of his skin, feeling his pulse quicken and skin getting warm under her touch.

Kael tensed, surprised, a low hum of pleasure escaping him.

He’d thought that she was inexperienced, raw in her passion, but the way she kissed—confident, sensual—challenged that.

Was she a natural at this?, or had she learned it just now, in the fire of their connection, blooming in real-time?

Her tongue flicked against his collarbone, teasing, and he gasped, caught off guard by her boldness. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

One of her hands stayed in his dark brown hair, fingers playing with the strands, caressing his scalp, tugging gently, while the other drifted lower, slithering down his chest, abs, and further lower the abdomen, nails grazing the taut skin until she reached for his cock, hard and pulsing.

She wrapped her fingers around it, gentle and erotic, stroking slow and sensual, her touch firm but teasing, learning his rhythm, monitoring his emotions.

"You like it don’t you?" she asked, voice low, a playful echo of his earlier taunts, her blue eyes flicking up to meet his, a spark of mischief and dominance in them.

Kael’s breath hitched, his grin faltering into something rawer, more vulnerable.

He could feel her emotions through his powers—no anger, no shame, just trust, arousal, a woman unbound, her limiters gone.

The tables had turned, and he realized it—she wasn’t just reacting anymore; she was claiming him. "Yeah," he managed, voice rough, "I like it."

"It’s my turn now," Freya said, her tone shifting, soft but dominant, a queen reclaiming her throne.

She pushed him gently, her hands guiding his hips until his back leaned against the counter, the cool edge grounding him.

Freya knelt, her hands grazing down his sides, sending shivers down his spine until her face levelled with his cock, her platinum-cyan hair catching the light as she paused, gazing up at him.

Her eyes held his, bold and unguarded, a silent challenge as she leaned in, tongue flicking the tip of his cock, slow and teasing.

Kael gasped, a sharp "Fuck—" slipping out, his hands gripping the counter as pleasure sparked through him.

She licked again, circling the head, tasting the faint salt of precum and her juices, her tongue exploring the sensitive ridge with a curiosity that felt both innocent and wicked.

At first, her movements were sloppy, amateur, tentative, but she found her rhythm very soon, lips closing around him, taking him deeper with each pass.

She sucked gently, then harder, her tongue swirling along the underside, finding the spots that made him shudder, his gasps guiding her like a map.

Freya felt his pulse in her mouth, his cock throbbing as she worked, and a strange thrill bloomed in her—making him feel good made her feel good, powerful, alive.

Why?

Was it fear that he’d leave if she didn’t please him? Or was it her dominance, her true self, finally free? Or was he her new mask?

She didn’t know, didn’t care—not now, with his raspy breaths filling the kitchen, proof she could unravel him just like as he had her.

She knows how good one can make the other feel during foreplay, Kael had proved it to her, and now she was testing the theory herself and so far, the results looked promising for her inexperience.

Kael’s breathing grew ragged, his knuckles whitening on the counter, pleasure building too fast, he had played with her for a long while, but he himself hadn’t climaxed, unknowing to the tension building in himself.

Freya sensed it, pulling back with a slow, teasing lick, her hand wrapping around his base, stroking to keep him hard but not over the edge.

She stood, her body brushing his as she rose, and guided his cock to her pussy, slick and ready.

Unlike before, this wasn’t surrender—it was choice, desire, her wanting him.

She positioned him at her entrance, sinking down slow, her pussy clenching tight around him, full and warm, a low moan spilling from her lips as he stretched her.

Kael looked flushed, hazel eyes wide, caught in her gaze as she took control.

His hands gripped her waist, steadying her, but she set the pace, bobbing up and down, her hips rolling with a rhythm that felt natural, instinctive.

"Ahh~" she gasped, pleasure sparking with every thrust, her breasts bouncing faintly, nipples grazing his chest.

Kael matched her, his hips rocking to meet her, their bodies syncing—gasps, moans, the wet, dirty sound of skin on skin filling the kitchen.

There was no restraint, no shame, just raw connection, two people chasing the same fire.

Freya’s moans grew louder, unrestrained, her pussy tightening around him as pleasure coiled tight.

Kael’s breaths hitched, his grip tightening on her waist, and she felt him swell inside her, his own climax nearing.

"Freya—" he groaned, tension building, edging closer towards the cliff, voice breaking, and they crashed over the cliff together.

Her moan was loud, primal—"AHN~!"—her pussy pulsing, waves of ecstasy rolling through her, thighs shaking as she came.

Kael moaned too, deep and raw, his hot release squirting into her, filling her, dripping down her thighs as their bodies shuddered in sync.

She wasn’t disgusted—she was happy, proud, knowing she could make him come as he had her, a shared victory that felt like trust.

She leaned in, lifted his jaw, capturing his lips in a sensual, deeper kiss, her tongue tangling with his, slow and intimate, tasting the sweat and heat of their connection.

Her hands cupped his face, holding him close, not wanting to let go, not yet.

Kael kissed back, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her flush against him, their bodies still joined, aftershocks trembling through them.

The kitchen was quiet save for their slowing breaths.

Freya pulled back slightly, her forehead resting against his, her blue eyes soft but alive, a new strength in them—not the queen’s armor, but something truer, hers.

"You meant it," she murmured, not a question, a realization, her voice warm with trust.

"Every word," Kael said, his grin soft, his thumb brushing her lip. "You’re not alone, Freya. Not anymore."

She nodded, a small smile breaking through, and for the first time, she felt it—herself, whole, not perfect but enough.

This moment, this connection, was hers, and she wasn’t letting go.

Just what had he done to her?

He will have to take responsibility for it.