R-18: ANKLET-WRAPPED ADDICTION

He never looked at feet before. Not really. They were just there—functional, forgettable. Until her.

Cassia didn’t flirt like other women. She never had to. Her silences were louder than most people’s declarations. She moved like a secret. And he noticed her feet first before anything else, which should’ve been strange. Delicate arches, always painted nails. Anklets that jingled when she walked past, never once looking back.

At first, he thought it was coincidence. Then obsession.

He started to notice patterns, how she always kicked off her shoes when she was angry. How she curled her toes under when she lied. How she rested one ankle over the other when bored. He could read her like a book no one else had even opened.

The first time she touched him, really touched him wasn't with her hands.

They were tangled on the couch, drunk on nothing but attention and unresolved tension. She had pulled her legs up, placed her feet in his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. And then… moved.

No teasing, no mocking. Just pressure. Rhythm. Contact.

And he froze.

Not out of disgust, but revelation. His body betrayed him instantly. He didn’t know he liked it. Not until she leaned forward, voice low and unreadable:

"So… now you know Hades."

Hades didn't respond. Didn't look away from her face. But she could see the way his eyes darkened slightly. The way he breathed a little too fast. It made her want to tease harder. She wanted to be the first to reach this point. This moment. When she'd finally see him let the dark, primal side of his nature come out.

Cassia's feet moved with an unnerving precision, slow strokes through the fabric of his pants, testing pressure, teasing reaction. It wasn't obscene. Not yet. But it was intimate in a way that short-circuited his thoughts.

He wasn’t sure whether to stop her or let himself fall into the unraveling.

Cassia tilted her head, still unreadable. “You okay?” she asked, like she didn’t already know the effect she had on him. Her toes flexed, and he clenched his jaw.

He gave the smallest nod, like a confession.

"Didn't think you were into this," she murmured, letting her heel press down gently. “But you’re so easy to read when you’re turned on. It’s kind of cute.”

There was no cruelty in her tone, just curiosity. Fascination, maybe. Like she’d discovered something rare and was now studying it under a microscope. Hades hated how exposed he felt. But more than that, he hated how much he wanted her to keep going.

To experiment, to test. It made him feel weak and pathetic.

Cassia leaned in, her voice a whisper this time. “Tell me when it’s too much.”

She didn’t stop.

He didn't remember taking a breath, only that suddenly the air felt too thin.

The sound of his zipper sliding down cut through the thick silence like thunder. He hadn’t said yes—but he hadn’t said no, either. And maybe that said everything.

Cassia kept moving. A featherlight caress against his cóck. Then another and another, as if he was made of glass instead of flesh. Her skin felt cool and soft, almost like silk. He shuddered involuntarily, closing his eyes tightly. He couldn't breathe.

He was past pretending. Whatever part of him resisted had long since drowned under the heat of her attention and the slow, deliberate rhythm she kept. His hands clutched the edge of the couch like a man holding on for dear life, not to anchor himself, but to avoid reaching out and ruining it.

She leaned back on her elbows, as if giving him a show. As if this was all for her entertainment, not his unraveling.

"You didn’t even know, did you?” she asked softly. “How much you'd like it?”

Hades throat tightened. The truth was—no, he didn’t. He’d never once thought of it. Feet were feet. Until hers touched him. Until her arch curled against him like a secret he was never supposed to know.

And now?

Now he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. What to do about the fact that he was very turned on. That he craved it so much he could taste the desperation and fear radiating from his own body. That his cóck jerked in response to the smallest of touches.

“You like that?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper, but it hit him like a confession.

Hades swallowed hard. “I… didn’t know I did.”

She smiled, not smugly, but like someone who just found the key to a locked door. “Then let me learn you.”

Cassia wrapped her feet around him with wicked skill, dragging out every pulse and twitch like she’d done it a hundred times in her head.

He móaned. She laughed, low and husky, like a purr. It sent a tremor coursing through his body.

She leaned closer, her lips just grazing his ear. “Funny… you didn’t know you wanted this,” she whispered, “until I made you need it.”

His chest rose and fell in shallow waves, too far gone to deny it.

The sensation of her feet stroking his cóck again, tracing his balls, making him shudder, filled him with a dizzying mix of desire and obsession.

Her stroke grew hotter and more insistent, sending tiny electric shocks down his spine. Every inch of him seemed alive. It felt so good. So right. So perfect.

He closed his eyes tight and groaned, his entire body tensing against the pleasure.

“You’re shaking,” she murmured, and brushed her fingers down his chest. Not rushed. Reverent.

He nodded once, barely managing a sound. “You drive me insane.”

“That’s the point,” she said with a crooked smile. “I like you better when you’re not pretending to be composed.”

Cassia continued jerking him off, stroking him faster and faster, until his breath caught. Until his vision went blurry and black. Until he was panting and trembling and begging for more.

He felt like he was burning up inside, a raging inferno that would take him down any second.

Hades took one foot and bring it to his mouth, sucking her toes with a desperate greed. When he heard her móan, it sent electricity shooting straight to his cóck.

That did it for him.

He came with a deep shudder. His órgasm ripped through him with the force of a hurricane, ripping open the walls that kept him contained.

When he opened his eyes, Cassia was smiling sweetly at him, her feet back on the floor. “You’re welcome,” she said lightly.

And God help him, he wanted more.