Rehab for SuperVillains (18+)-Chapter 75: electrifying

Tired and exhausted, Kael turned to the stove, flicking the burner back on, the faint click reigniting the heat beneath the skillet.

The ribs, cooling in their smoky-sweet sauce, needed finishing, and he stirred them mixing the ingredients, the aroma curling through the kitchen, rich and savory.

Freya stood behind him, her arms slipping around his waist, her naked body and full breasts pressing against his back, warm and soft, the garter belt and stockings a faint whisper against his skin.

Her chin rested on his shoulder, her breath tickling his neck as she watched him cook, her closeness both comforting and electrifying.

"I guess you should take a shower and wear your clothes back," Kael said, voice light but edged with a practical nudge, his hands steady on the spatula despite the heat and weight of her embrace.

Freya purred, her lips brushing his ear, voice low and teasing. "I guess... but not now. Who am I even hiding from? You have already seen me naked, thoroughly"

She planted a warm, lingering kiss on his neck, and sucked on his flesh, her teeth grazing lightly, leaving a pulsing love bite that sent a shiver down his spine.

Her sudden affection was a tidal wave, unexpected and overwhelming, a variable he hadn’t planned for in their game.

Yesterday, she’d been steel, all sharp edges and defiance which was ready to pounce on him at the faintest vulnerability; but now, she was velvet, clinging to him with a warmth that stirred both desire and unease.

Is such a flip even possible?

"When’d you even turn off the stove? I didn’t notice." she asked, pulling back slightly, her voice curious, the love bite tingling on his skin.

Kael grinned, glancing at her over his shoulder, her blue eyes soft but bright, catching the kitchen’s dim light.

"Right during your first orgasm, you were so loud that you couldn’t hear," he said, a playful glint in his hazel eyes.

"Didn’t want these ribs burning to waste—they’re too good. Your seasoning’s perfect, Freya. I had to try them." He stirred the pan, the meat tender and glistening. "You cook really good."

"Well, that I do," she purred, her confidence blooming, a queen reclaiming her throne in a new way.

"Give me the spatula—I’ll teach you." Her hands slid down his arms, slow and sensual, fingers trailing over his skin, sending tingles racing through him.

She reached his wrist, wrapping her hand over his, guiding the spatula with a gentle twist.

"Like this," she murmured, her body pressed closer, breasts brushing his back. "Gentle, not too fast, not too slow."

Kael followed her lead, stirring the ribs as she directed, but a flicker of discomfort crept in.

Her affection, her dominance—it was intoxicating, but disorienting.

He’d broken her walls, seen her raw, rebuilt her with trust, but this Freya, so open, so present, was a new puzzle.

Was she leaning into him out of trust, or was it something fleeting, born of their intensity?

"Freya," he said, shifting in her grip, voice careful, "can you take over? I need to get the side dishes ready."

She let him go, her arms slipping away with a soft hum, and took the spatula, her movements graceful as she tended the ribs, naked and unselfconscious, the stockings accentuating her long toned legs.

Kael stepped to the refrigerator, grabbing carrots, zucchini, and a knife, focusing on chopping to steady himself.

Every so often, Freya glanced towards him, her smile warm, unguarded, and he returned it, their eyes meeting in quiet understanding. But her transformation unnerved him.

A day ago, she was ready to kill me. Now this?

He sliced a carrot, his thoughts racing.

Was it me who do this? I am a fucking magician.

Pride swelled, but so did doubt.

How do I play this now?

He stole glances at her, trying not to linger on her naked figure—her curves, the way her breasts swayed faintly as she stirred, her round ass and thicc thighs framed by the garter belt.

She was sexy, achingly so, but he fought the urge to pull her back into passion.

Too much sex, too fast, could burn them out, snuff the sexual tension that made this electric.

Post-nut clarity was real—for him, and maybe for her—and he didn’t want Freya waking up tomorrow regretting her openness, retreating behind her walls.

His next step was bigger and his true goal: guiding her, like Rhea, toward the superhero gig, a purpose to channel her strength, and with that her rehab should be completed.

But that meant pacing this, not drowning in desire.

The ribs finished, tender and perfect despite the chaotic hours, their sauce thick and glossy.

Kael plated them alongside his sautéed vegetables, the colors vibrant, a meal hard-won.

They sat at the dining table, Freya still naked, her skin glowing under the Haven’s soft light.

A day ago, she’d guarded every inch of herself, wearing full clothes, not revealing an inch of her skin, her pride a fortress; now, she sat straight, but, unashamed, her blue eyes warm as she met his gaze, her naked breasts glaring at him.

What kind of woman is she?

Kael wondered, half in awe, half in fear, his fork pausing mid-bite.

They ate in silence for a while, smiles passing between them like secrets.

Kael broke it, keeping it light. "How’re the side dishes?" he asked, nodding at her plate.

"Good," she said, her smile widening, a flicker of her old defiance in it. "But the ribs are better."

He laughed, genuine. "They’re fucking amazing, Freya. Where’d you learn to cook like this?"

Her eyes softened, a memory surfacing.

"Cooking classes," she said, voice quieter, "when I was a kid. An old blind lady in my neighborhood taught them. She’d make us feel the spices, smell the meat, listen to the sizzle—said it was better than seeing."

She chuckled, a rare glimpse of her past, and Kael’s brows lifted, surprised by the warmth in her tone.

"That’s... kinda cool, no wonder you were managing so well cooking blindfolded," he said, impressed, filing it away.

Every piece of her past was a key, a way to understand the woman she was becoming.

They finished their late lunch, plates nearly clean, the ribs a triumph worth the chaos.

Kael stood, stacking dishes. "I’ll wash these," he said, glancing at her. "You should shower, maybe change into clothes."

Freya rose, stretching, her body a distraction he fought to ignore.

"I’ll help with the dishes," she said, stepping to the sink beside him, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Kael sighed, relenting, and they stood side by side, water sloshing as they scrubbed.

He focused hard, willing away the dirty thoughts crowding his mind—her breasts jiggling faintly as she scrubbed, foam clinging to her nipple, a white bead against pink that begged to be licked.

Fuck, not now.

Why do I want to suck them. Play with them. Was it mommy issues?

No, just her, too damn magnetic. He gripped a plate, scrubbing harder, keeping his eyes on the suds.

When the last dish was dry, Kael dried his hands, steeling himself as he sent Freya back into her room. "I’m locking your door," he said, voice careful, meeting her eyes.

Her face fell, a flash of displeasure crossing it, and he raised a hand, quick to explain.

"Not like that, Freya—don’t take it wrong. I trust you, but..." He hesitated, choosing truth over sugarcoating. "You tried to kill me once. I can’t be sure—not yet. It’s just a few hours. Shower and rest. I have some word to do and I’ll open it by dinner. We’ll eat together again."

Her lips pursed, but she nodded, understanding flickering in her blue eyes.

"Fine," she said, voice soft but not cold. She stepped toward her room, then paused, turning back. Before he could react, her hands cupped his face, pulling him into a kiss—deep, sultry, her lips warm and insistent, tasting of trust and promise.

She pulled back, a smile curving her mouth, eyes glinting. "See you soon," she purred, slipping into her room.

Kael closed the door, locking it with a soft click, and exhaled hard, leaning against the frame.

"Damn," he muttered, pulse racing, her kiss lingering like a brand.

He needed to release soon, blue balls is a thing.

He bolted to his bathroom, unzipped his pants and fapped hard, Freya’s image replaying in his mind—naked, smiling, kissing, fucking—flooding his mind.

Release hit fast, intense, but as he caught his breath, a wry thought hit:

At this rate, I’ll need to keep stock of a good quality lube to avoid dry skin and chafing.

He sighed and zipped up, shaking his head, half-laughing at himself.

Stepping into the hall, he froze as a knock echoed, sharp and unexpected on the main door. Rhea wouldn’t knock the door as she liked to force open a door first and then knock, then who else can it be?

He opened the door, cautiously, and there stood Lightning Lass, alone, her superhero costume catching the light, her eyes sharp and unreadable, a storm waiting to break.

"Are you out of your fucking mind Kael?"