Chapter 8; Dirty Reunion 1.2

The door to Villa 7 slammed shut behind them, rain lashing the windows like it wanted to flood into the room.

Inside it was dim—only the low glow of bedside lamps and lightning flashes illuminating the space. One massive king bed dominated the room, white sheets crisp and mocking. A single couch too small for either of them. No extra blankets. No escape.

Nadia stood dripping in the middle of the floor, black sundress plastered to her skin, outlining every curve, nipples hard against the wet fabric. Cum still leaked slow and warm down her inner thigh from the beach. She could feel it—sticky, obscene—and it only made her angrier.

Kai locked the door. Turned. His shirt clung transparent to his chest, every ridge of muscle visible, pants low on his hips, cock already thickening again under the soaked material.

They stared at each other—breathing hard, water pooling at their feet.

“Fuck this,” Nadia said, voice shaking with rage. “I’m not sharing a bed with you.”

Kai stepped closer—slow, deliberate. “Then sleep on the floor.”

She laughed—bitter, sharp. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Me on my knees again.”

His eyes darkened. “You were the one who begged for it on the beach.”

“I didn’t beg. I demanded.” She shoved him—hard—palms slamming his chest. “And you gave it like the asshole you are.”

He caught her wrists this time—tight, pinning them behind her back in one hand. The other gripped her jaw, forcing her to look up at him.

“You came so hard you screamed my name like a prayer,” he growled. “Don’t pretend you didn’t love every second of hating me.”

She struggled—half-hearted—hips pressing forward against his thigh on instinct. “I hate you.”

“Then prove it.”

She surged up—kissed him viciously. Teeth sank into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. He groaned—deep, and shoved her back against the nearest wall. The impact rattled a picture frame.

He ripped her dress down the front—fabric tearing loud in the quiet room—exposing her bare breasts, nipples tight and aching. His mouth latched onto one—sucking hard, teeth grazing, tongue flicking while his free hand shoved between her thighs.

His fingers found her soaked pussy, still swollen from the beach, dripping his cum and her own arousal.

He plunged three fingers in without warning—deep, rough, curling hard against that spot that made her knees buckle.

“Fuck—Kai—” Her head , back against the wall.

“Say it,” he demanded, pumping fast, thumb grinding her clit in merciless circles. “Tell me how much you hate this cock stretching you.”

“I hate it,” she gasped, hips bucking against his hand. “I hate how thick you are—how you fill me up—how you make me drip like a slut—”

He added a fourth finger—stretching her wide—pumping faster, wet sounds obscene over the rain.

She shattered—fast, violent—walls clamping down, gushing around his fingers, soaking his hand and the floor. She cried out—loud, broken—nails digging into his forearm.

He didn’t stop. Kept fingering her through it—slow now, drawing out every tremor until she was whimpering, oversensitive.

Then he spun her—face to the wall, ass out. Yanked her dress the rest of the way off. Shoved his pants down. his cock sprang free—still hard, slick with her.

He gripped her hips—hard enough to bruise—and thrust in from behind—one deep, brutal stroke that buried him balls-deep.

Nadia moaned—raw, guttural—palms slapping the wall for balance.

He didn’t give her time to adjust—just started pounding her—hard, fast, relentless. Hips snapping forward, cock slamming that perfect angle over and over, balls slapping wet against her clit.

“Take it,” he snarled, one hand fisting her hair, yanking her head back so her back arched. “Take every fucking inch, Nadia. Feel how deep I am—how I own this pussy even when you hate me.”

She pushed back—meeting every thrust—ass grinding against him. “Harder—ram that thick cock deeper—wreck me, you bastard—”

He obliged—pulling almost all the way out, then slamming back in—brutal, punishing. The wall shook with every impact. Rain hammered the windows like an applause to the activitythey were performing.

He reached around—fingers finding her clit again—rubbing fast, rough circles while he banged her.

“Gonna make you come again,” he growled in her ear. “Gonna make you soak my cock while you scream how much you hate me.”

She did—second orgasm ripping through her—walls fluttering, pulsing, milking him deep. She screamed his name—cursing it, moaning it—body shaking, thighs trembling.

He didn’t stop. Flipped her around—lifted her—legs wrapping his waist. Back against the wall again. Drove back in—deeper this angle—grinding slow circles that rubbed the base of his cock against her clit.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

She did—eyes glassy, lips parted, tears mixing with rain on her cheeks.

“I never stopped wanting you,” he rasped, thrusting slow now but hard—each stroke deliberate. “Never stopped thinking about this tight little cunt.”

She clenched around him—hard. “Then why did you leave?”

“Because I was a coward.” He kissed her—deep, desperate—while he fucked her slower, deeper. “But I’m here now. And I’m not running again.”

Something cracked inside her—hate giving way to raw need.

She kissed him back—hungry, claiming—nails raking down his back.

“Fuck me like you love me,” she whispered against his mouth.

He did.

Slowed to long, rolling thrusts—grinding deep, hitting every sensitive spot. One hand slid between them—thumb circling her clit gently now.

She came again—soft, rolling, trembling—walls fluttering around him, soaking him fresh.

He buried himself deep—cock throbbing—and came with her name on his lips—hot spurts flooding her, leaking out around him as he jerked through it.

They slid to the floor together—panting, tangled, rain still pounding outside.

He held her—tight, like he was afraid she’d disappear.

She buried her face in his neck—breathing him in.

“I still hate you a little,” she murmured.

He kissed her temple. “Good. Means we’ve got time to fix the rest

They stayed like that, wet, spent, hearts slamming together against each other.