Hate to love you: The star's forbidden obsession

Zayden Mercer

The scent hits my nose the moment I step into the villa. The luxury holiday cottage which the school had prepared for our hockey teams as we competed with Worcester’s Polar Titans. 

I marched into the house. There in the central living room, Ronan Devereux was sprawled on a sofa, trousers and underwear pooled around his ankles, legs spread wide with his co*k visible for all to see. Between his thighs was a male omega, probably one of the offerings sent by teams hoping to poach him for the professional league next season. 

Behind him was a female omega, her lips on his neck, palm moving around his chest and playing with his nipples. Absolutely shameless. 

Ronan opened his eyes as the male omega took in the cap of his massive cock. I hate to admit it, but yes, his co*k is massive. The very reasons those poor things trip over themselves to ride him, despite the generally acknowledged fact that he's an asshole who never spends more than a month with the same omega. 

He moaned loudly, and winked at me. Loud, deliberate, obscene. Rage bubbled in my veins, teeth giving off grating sounds. That bastard. One day I'm gonna kill him. 

His eyes were still fixed on me as he pushed the omega down to take more of his length. The poor thing's mouth was stretched to its absolute limit, saliva dripping down steadily, throat engorged, eyes red with tears, slight gagging sounds seeping out. But the beast before me was absolutely merciless, pushing his head deeper and thrusting harder. 

He wanted me to see, and lose it. Fight him here with the coaches hovering close by. So that my Arctic wolves will be closed down and absorbed into his Northstars. He's been a champion of one varsity team for the longest time, and is doing everything possible to force a merge. Not happening. 

“Shameless! Can't you go up to your room, you despicable piece of trash? This is the common room!” When I finally found my voice, a string of curses followed. 

“You can join us.” He moaned loudly again, biting his lips, intentionally trying to get a rise out of me. I inhaled deeply and walked past him, taking the stairs two at a time. 

I didn't notice that my heart was pounding so hard against my ribcage till I got to my room. I placed a palm against my chest, a gasp spilling from my lips. 

He always makes me so angry. I never thought I would still hate him this much even after all these years. 

At this rate, I might get a heart attack. I rushed to my laptop and unlocked it after a three factor authentication, and navigated to my secret cloud storage. 

There she was, my pretty Liora Hunt. The goddess of my heart and the leader of the debate club. An absolute beauty with brains. I've not confessed yet because I once heard her say she didn't intend to date till year 3. But I'm willing to wait. 

A picture of her in a cream colored sheer night gown which I stole from her gallery greeted me on the screen. A smile spread on my face and I moved to the next picture. Here she was wearing a yellow swim suit which was a bit too small for her curvy frame. My absolute favorite. 

I drew in a ragged breath, my hands slipping beneath my shorts. I pulled the blanket over my body with the other hand, teeth on my lips, trying to hold back my moans as I stroked myself beneath the sheets. 

My eyes drifted shut, memories of her beautiful smile playing on my mind, my safe haven. ‘Liora, I want you so much it hurts.’

Time moved fast under my intense strokes. The picture of Liora before me warped into Ronan's annoying smug grin. Then the earlier memory of his cock stretching the male Omega's mouth. 

A low cry escaped my lips and I found myself spasming, losing all control as I came all over my hands and thighs. 

I gasped and collapsed against the bed. What was that? Why did memories of that bastard make me cum? 

Disgust tightened around my intestines and I felt my skin crawl with revulsion, bile rising to my throat. 

A soft knock on the door pulled my attention back. I hurried to exit the file and erase all traces, securely locking my laptop. 

“Come in.” I carefully adjusted the blanket, using my laptop to shield the mess. 

Jace, my team member, popped his head in. “Captain, the coach is calling us to assemble downstairs. It appears to be an emergency.”

I nodded, and cleared my throat. Thankfully, my traitorous heartbeat had settled. 

“I will be there.” My voice was steady. Perfect. 

The moment he left, I hurried out of the bed and threw the blanket off. My hands reached for the tissue, hurriedly wiping off the mess. Not enough, I need to wash up. Leave no traces. 

****

The coach was already downstairs. I was the last to join. Even Devereux sat waiting, legs sprawled, arms folded like he owned the place.  

“Good game,” the coach said, grin sharp as he looked between me and Ronan. “You brought UCLA the gold. Proud of both teams.”  

He exhaled, voice dropping. “Party’s canceled. We’re flying back now. Sponsors will make it up later. Grades and league screening results drop tomorrow. Anything under a 3.5 and you’re off the roster. Hockey matters, but academics matter more. That’s the legacy of ice.”  

I rolled my eyes. Same lecture, different rink. I tuned him out.  

“Mercer!”  

I snapped to attention. “I’m listening.”  

The coach’s stare said he didn’t buy it, but he moved on. “You two run rival teams. But you’re still UCLA. When it’s us against the world, you put the pettiness aside. Wins mean better sponsors, better gear, better future. Don’t let personal shit burn it all down. Unity. Excellence. Remember that.”  

“Arctic Wolves and Northstars. Equal weight. Keep the standard up.”

The entrance opens, and a staff member walks in. “Coach, the bus is ready to take them to the airport.”

“Alright, boys. Go pack up your shit. The porters will be waiting to help you with the haul.”

I stood up to leave, my shoulder bumped into Ronan who stood up the same time. I hiss and push him aside. He replied with a foot before me, nearly causing me to fall face first. 

Luckily, I grabbed the sofa, steadying myself. I turn to him, eyes dark with hatred. The coach's gaze was trained on us, so I forced the bitterness in my chest down, and exhaled a slow breath. 

Just you wait, you bastard.

I hope my grades smashed his this semester. One day, I will shove his head into the ground and force him to eat dirt