Reborn As A Doomsday Villainess-Chapter 80: Sloppy but hot

Qingran stormed toward the door, her breath uneven, her pulse still thrumming wildly beneath her skin.

Every step away from him should have cooled the heat simmering under her skin, but it didn’t. The taste of him still lingered on her lips—hot, intoxicating, and undeniably dangerous.

Damn him.

Damn him for kissing her like that.

Damn him for making her body react before her brain could catch up.

She reached for the door handle, fingers tightening around the cool metal, determined to put as much distance between them as possible.

But before she could twist it open, a strong arm wrapped around her waist from behind, pulling her back against a hard, familiar body.

"You’re running?" Yizhou’s voice was low, smooth, and edged with amusement. His breath was hot against her ear, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. "That’s unlike you, sweetheart."

She gritted her teeth, refusing to let him get under her skin. "I’m leaving because I want to, not because—"

Her words cut off with a sharp inhale as his lips brushed against the sensitive skin of her neck. Not quite a kiss—just a whisper of contact, a deliberate tease.

"Are you sure?" His voice was pure sin, dark and velvety. His fingers flexed against her waist, his grip possessive but not forceful. He wasn’t stopping her. Not really. He was just daring her to stay.

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. "Let me go, Yizhou."

His lips curved against her skin. "Not yet."

Then, before she could shove him away, he turned her in his arms, pressing her back against the door. His hands pinned her in place, one resting against the wood beside her head, the other splayed low on her hip.

Qingran’s breath hitched as she met his gaze—dark, intense, and burning with something that sent heat curling low in her stomach.

"One more thing," he murmured.

She narrowed her eyes, trying to ignore the way her heart pounded. "What now?"

Yizhou’s smirk was slow, lazy, but there was something dangerous about it. His fingers tilted her chin up, his thumb grazing over her lower lip.

"You owe me a proper goodbye."

Before she could protest, he claimed her mouth again.

This time, there was no hesitation. No teasing prelude.

It was heat. It was hunger. It was a deliberate, sinful act of possession.

His tongue swept past her lips, deep and insistent, tangling with hers in a slick, intoxicating rhythm that made her knees weak. His grip on her hip tightened as he pressed her against the door, his body flush against hers, radiating heat and dominance.

Qingran barely had time to think—only feel. The way his lips moved against hers, the way his tongue coaxed her into responding, the way his body caged her in but never made her feel trapped.

Her fingers curled into the front of his shirt before she could stop herself, gripping the fabric like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

Yizhou growled low in approval, deepening the kiss. He angled his head, taking more—giving more. His lips were firm, relentless, moving against hers in a way that left her dizzy, breathless.

Then his hand slid up, fingers tracing the line of her jaw before slipping into her hair. He gripped the strands, tilting her head back, giving him better access. His tongue swept along the roof of her mouth, slow and deliberate, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure straight down her spine.

Qingran’s breath hitched.

Too much. It was too good.

She hated how easily he overwhelmed her senses. Hated the way her body responded, melting against him when she should have been shoving him away.

When he finally pulled back, her lips were wet, swollen, and tingling.

Yizhou studied her, his thumb lazily tracing her bottom lip, his gaze hooded with satisfaction. "Sloppy, but hot," he murmured, his voice smug and wicked.

Qingran’s fingers twitched with the urge to punch him. "You—"

He cut her off by pressing another lingering kiss to her lips, slower this time, dragging it out just to frustrate her further. When he pulled away again, his smirk widened.

"Now we’re even," he said.

Qingran shoved at his chest, putting some much-needed distance between them. "You’re insufferable."

His laughter was deep, rich, and entirely too pleased with himself. "And you’re still here."

She scowled, spinning on her heel and yanking the door open. "I’m leaving now."

Yizhou leaned casually against the doorframe, watching her go. "Sweet dreams, sweetheart."

She didn’t dignify that with a response.

Not when she could still feel the phantom press of his lips, the lingering heat of his touch.

Not when her traitorous body still craved more.

Qingran stomped down the hall, her heart still hammering, her lips still tingling, and her entire body feeling like it had been set on fire. Damn that bastard. Damn him and his audacity. ƒreewebɳovel.com

The way he kissed—no, the way he devoured—left no room for resistance. It was pure possession, pure dominance, and the worst part? She had let him.

She didn’t just let him—she had kissed him back.

Fucking hell.

She reached her room and slammed the door shut behind her, pressing her back against it as she exhaled sharply. Her hands curled into fists at her sides, her breathing still uneven.

This was bad.

This was really, really bad.

She could still feel him—his hands on her waist, his tongue sliding against hers, the heat of his body caging her in, making it impossible to think of anything else but him.

With a frustrated groan, she pushed away from the door and stalked toward the bathroom, flipping on the faucet and splashing cold water on her face. The icy shock did nothing to erase the memory of his lips, his touch, his stupid, smug voice.

Her reflection stared back at her, lips still slightly swollen, cheeks tinged pink. She scowled. "Pathetic."

She shouldn’t have let him do that. She shouldn’t have enjoyed it.

And yet...

Qingran groaned again, burying her face in her hands.

It wasn’t just the kiss that rattled her. It was the way he made her feel—like she wasn’t untouchable, like he could reach inside her carefully built walls and shake her.

And the worst part?

She didn’t hate it.

That was the most dangerous thing of all.