Chapter 51: What You're Made For
Aria didn't sleep that night.
Not truly.
She drifted in and out of fevered half - consciousness, her skin feverish, her mind stretched thin and trembling. Her body ached — not from pain, but from want. That strange, insistent hunger had rooted itself deep, coiling tight behind her navel, a heat she couldn't reason with. Her breath hitched with every shift under the sheets, every brush of fabric against her skin.
What had happened — or what she'd dreamed had happened — refused to leave her. Selene's voice still echoed through her skull, low and merciless, curling like a silken leash around her thighs. Her body clenched just thinking about it. Even now, the phantom of that orgasm pulsed inside her. It hadn't soothed her. It hadn't freed her.
It had split her open and left her starving.
She had shattered.
But not cleanly.
She was all broken edges now, nerves flayed, thoughts muddled, her skin too tight over a body that no longer felt like hers. Her sheets were soaked. Her thighs ached. Her skin burned, oversensitive and flushed, her muscles twitching as if they remembered what her mind tried desperately to forget.
She had come — violently, shamelessly, embarrassingly — alone.
But not alone.
She remembered the mirror. The look in her own eyes. The powerlessness of it. Selene's voice like smoke wrapping around her spine. Her own fingers trembling between her legs. The desperate friction. The way she'd sobbed Selene's name without realizing she'd said it aloud.
And even then…
It hadn't been enough.
The need lingered, unfulfilled. Raw. Gnawing at her like teeth beneath her skin.
She had woken gasping, her lips bitten red, her thighs slick with need, her hand still buried between her legs like even in sleep she'd been clawing for relief. Her heart had thundered. Her lungs burned.
And none of it made sense.
The freezing shower after did nothing. She'd scrubbed her skin until it flushed pink, but the ache stayed. She'd paced barefoot across the cold marble floors of the guest wing, arms clutched tightly around her middle like she could hold herself together, like she could keep the hunger inside.
She'd pressed her forehead against the frost-lined window, letting the dawn creep in. It kissed her skin with winter light — quiet and cruel. It didn't calm her. It only made her shiver harder.
Her body buzzed like something had been rewired.
Remade.
Like it didn't belong to her anymore.
Like it had been made for someone else.
Made for Selene.
She hated it.
She loved it.
And when the sun finally broke over the horizon, when the hunger inside reached its breaking point, Aria snapped.
She crossed the hall on trembling legs.
Didn't knock.
Couldn't.
The door opened beneath her fingers without a sound.
Selene was already awake.
She sat on the edge of the bed like a statue carved from moonlight, one leg crossed over the other, draped in a silk robe as black as spilled ink. Her skin gleamed pale and perfect. Her hair poured down her back in waves, loose and wild, a curtain of shadows against the light. She wore no makeup. No armor.
Just Selene — bare and lethal.
Aria froze in the doorway, her breath catching in her throat.
Selene looked up, eyes cold and unreadable. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze moving over Aria slowly. Lazily. Like a queen sizing up a kneeling subject. Or a predator studying prey that had finally stopped running.
"I…" Aria swallowed hard. "I can't sleep."
Selene said nothing.
Her silence pressed like a hand around Aria's throat.
"I feel…" Her voice cracked. "Wrong. Like I'm broken."
Selene's lips curved into something resembling a smile, but it wasn't kind. "Good."
She stood.
And Aria nearly collapsed.
Selene's presence swept across the room like a tide — silent, heavy, impossible to resist. Each step forward made the air thicker, charged. Aria's knees buckled under the weight of it. Her heart stuttered against her ribs.
"I need you," she whispered. "Even when I hate that I do."
Selene stopped inches from her.
Close enough to feel the chill that clung to her skin like snow.
She reached up, fingers cool and steady, and tipped Aria's chin up.
Aria's breath hitched.
She didn't flinch.
"I crave you," she confessed, barely audible. "Even when I tell myself I shouldn't."
Selene's gaze sharpened, glittering with something feral.
"Now you're being honest."
A tremor ran through Aria, sharp and hot. Her thighs clenched. Her pulse thundered in places she didn't want to admit.
"I'll beg," she whispered. "If that's what it takes —"
Selene turned away.
Wordless.
She walked to the nightstand, opened the drawer.
Aria's breath caught.
Selene pulled out a sleek black vibrator — long, smooth, humming with power.
Aria's stomach dropped. Her skin flushed. Her throat dried.
"Strip," Selene said.
The word cracked like a whip.
Aria obeyed.
Her hands trembled as she peeled her clothes away — hoodie, tank top, bra. Each layer felt heavier than the last. Her shorts clung to her damp thighs. Her panties stuck to her like guilt. She slipped them down and stood bare in the sunlight, skin prickling with shame and want and something too sharp to name.
Selene turned.
She didn't speak.
She just looked.
Like Aria was something rare.
Something owned.
"Lie down," she said.
Aria climbed onto the bed, every motion stiff and electric. She lay back, arms at her sides, her chest rising and falling like she'd just run miles barefoot.
Selene didn't touch her.
She sat beside her.
The toy hummed in her hand.
"Hands above your head," Selene said. "No touching."
Aria obeyed, fingers curling into the sheets.
Selene lowered the toy.
But didn't use it.
She traced it along Aria's stomach, her hips, the inside of her thighs — slow and deliberate. Drawing invisible patterns that made her squirm.
"You're already soaked," Selene murmured.
Aria moaned, lifting her hips helplessly. "Please —"
"You're not allowed to come."
The words landed like a slap.
"What?" Aria gasped.
"You'll earn it."
Then she pressed the vibrator to Aria's clit.
Aria arched off the bed. A cry tore from her lips.
Selene held it there for one heartbeat.
Then pulled away.
Aria sobbed.
"Selene — don't —"
"No."
She brushed the toy down, teasing Aria's entrance with barely - there pressure.
Aria whimpered.
"Do you understand what you are now?" Selene asked, her voice a knife wrapped in velvet.
Aria's lips parted. She couldn't speak.
"You're mine," Selene whispered. "You were made for this. Look how your body begs. Look how easily I unmake you."
Another flick. Another pulse of heat.
Aria gasped. "I'm close — please — I can't —"
Selene pressed harder.
Aria screamed.
Her legs trembled. Her spine bowed.
"I'm gonna —"
Selene pulled away.
"No," she said calmly. "Not yet."
"I'll die —"
"You won't."
Aria sobbed. "I'll say it — I'll beg — please — just let me come —"
"Then say it."
Aria's voice broke. "I'm yours. I was made for this. Made for you. Please, Selene — please let me come —"
Selene straddled her hips.
Didn't touch.
Just hovered.
The toy buzzed in her hand like a secret.
"You'll only come when I allow it," she said. "And if you disobey, I'll keep you like this for days."
"I won't," Aria gasped. "I'll behave. I'll be good. Just — please —"
Selene smiled.
Cruel.
Perfect.
She lowered the toy to Aria's clit.
And this time — she didn't stop.
The orgasm slammed through Aria like a wave crashing against stone.
She bucked and screamed, the pleasure too big, too much, fracturing her into something unrecognizable. Her skin flushed and slick with sweat, her fingers tangled in the sheets, her voice hoarse from the force of it. It didn't end — it detonated in waves, again and again, until she couldn't see, couldn't breathe.
Selene never touched her.
Not with her hands.
Not with her mouth.
Just her voice.
Her will.
Her power.
When it ended, Aria collapsed, boneless and ruined.
Selene set the toy aside.
Then lay beside her.
Still not touching.
Just watching.
"I didn't even need to touch you," she said softly.
Aria shivered. "Because I'm already yours."
Selene didn't smile this time.
She nodded once.
"You are."
She leaned in, lips brushing Aria's temple like a brand.
"And now," she whispered, "you know what you're made for."
Aria's eyes fluttered shut.
Numb.
Buzzing.
Owned.
"Yes," she breathed.
She woke with a start.
Panting.
Alone.
Her fingers curled in the sheets, still damp, still hot.
Her thighs sticky.
Her body aching.
She stared at the ceiling, wide - eyed, heart pounding in her chest like it wanted out.
It had been a dream.
A dream.
And yet —
She was wet.
Soaking.
Starved.
Every nerve in her body screamed for touch. Her core pulsed with unspent heat. Her chest rose and fell in shallow gasps.
Why?
Why now?
Why Selene?
She didn't understand.
It wasn't like her.
She wasn't like this.
She didn't want this.
And yet — she did.
God, she did.
It was exhausting. The wanting. The denial. The shame.
She couldn't ask for relief.
She wouldn't.
She buried her face in her pillow, teeth clenched.
The hunger burned in her veins.
Later, in the hazy drift between exhaustion and sleep, she dreamed again.
Of Selene's voice.
Of hands that never touched but ruled her completely.
She woke up panting.
Hungry.
Her fingers fisted the sheets.
"God…"
She wanted it again.
Needed it.
To be claimed.
To be ruined.
Again.
And again.
Until nothing else remained.