Chapter 53: Whimpers in Sleep
Selene didn't sleep.
She rarely did.
The night was hers in the same way shadows clung to corners — silent, absolute, patient. It wasn't insomnia. It wasn't discomfort. She simply didn't require the indulgence. Sleep was for bodies that tired. Selene had long since surpassed the need.
Instead, she sat in her favorite chair by the window, one long leg curled beneath her, her robe slipping off one pale shoulder. A book lay open in her lap, but she hadn't turned a page in over an hour. The soft pages might as well have been blank. Her attention had long since drifted from fiction to something far more consuming.
Aria.
Specifically, the sounds drifting from down the hall.
It had started faintly — a breath, maybe a gasp — but Selene's senses sharpened the moment it came. Not a cry of pain. Not some startled movement in sleep.
A whimper.
Delicate.
Raw.
Wet.
It had sliced straight through her quiet, threading through the air with startling intimacy. A name followed. Whispered. Almost reverent.
"Selene…"
Selene's fingers paused on the edge of her book. Her lips curved, slow and wicked.
Again.
That was the third time this week. And tonight, Aria didn't even have the excuse of fever, nightmares, or recovery.
She was dreaming of her.
Selene stood without a sound. The room didn't protest. Even the floorboards knew better than to creak beneath her. She moved like a shadow, sliding through the hallway to the guest room she'd never once locked.
Not that Aria ever tried.
She pushed the door open.
Moonlight spilled over the bed, throwing Aria's form into delicate silver and blue. Her skin gleamed with sweat. Her breath came in shallow, stuttering pulls. Her shirt was halfway bunched beneath her breasts. Her thighs were bare. Her hand — oh, her hand — buried deep between them.
Selene's breath caught. Not in surprise. But in something darker. Something like possession.
Because Aria was moving. Slowly. Grinding into her palm with unconscious rhythm.
Selene didn't speak. She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her with a soft click.
Aria moaned again, high and broken. "Selene…"
She didn't even know she was being watched.
Selene leaned against the wall beside the bed and folded her arms, robe sliding open further. She made no attempt to cover herself. What would be the point?
Aria was dreaming of her.
Touching herself to the memory of Selene's voice, Selene's control. Her hips lifted off the bed in that same pattern Selene had used — cruel and slow and maddening. Even in sleep, Aria obeyed.
Even now, she remembered.
Selene's throat tightened.
She could've stopped it. Could've woken her, whispered in her ear, dragged her into lucidity with a single word.
She didn't.
Instead, she watched. Let Aria writhe, breathless, helpless, clutching at a climax she had no permission to take.
It was beautiful.
The girl trembled, thighs slick and shuddering. Her free hand clenched the sheets, knuckles white.
Then — "Selene — please —"
It broke something.
Aria's back arched.
She cried out — high and desperate — as her body locked, her hand freezing against herself. A moment later, her moan cracked through the room, cracked through Selene.
"Selene —!"
The sound was too much. The desperation. The need.
Selene's lips parted just slightly, like she might taste the echo of that sound.
The silence that followed throbbed.
And then — Aria stirred.
Her eyes blinked open, hazy and unfocused. Her breath hitched the moment she realized she wasn't alone. Her body froze.
Selene stepped forward.
Aria's eyes went wide.
"Y - you —" Her voice broke. "How long — how long have you been —?"
Selene's gaze dragged over her slowly, from sweat - slicked skin to trembling thighs. "Long enough."
Aria scrambled to pull the blanket up — only for Selene to yank it away in one fluid movement. It fell to the floor in a heap.
Aria whimpered.
Her face burned crimson. "I didn't mean — I didn't know I was — I thought it was a dream."
"It was."
Selene leaned closer, eyes gleaming. "And in it, you were mine."
"I couldn't help it —"
"You didn't want to help it," Selene said, low and dark. "You begged. You moaned. You remembered everything."
"I'm sorry."
Selene tsked. "You came without permission."
"I — I know. I shouldn't have —"
"You disobeyed." Her tone sharpened. "Even in your dreams."
"I — I'll be better."
"Will you?"
"Yes." Aria's voice cracked. "Please, Selene. I'll make it up to you."
Selene's fingers skimmed the sheet beneath her, drawing circles. "Do you even know what you need?"
"I — I think I just wanted —"
"No," Selene said flatly. "You don't think. You feel. That's your problem."
Aria squirmed.
Selene climbed onto the bed slowly, straddling Aria's hips without touching, hovering above her like a storm cloud about to break. Aria's breath hitched. Her pupils blew wide.
"You think this is about pleasure?" Selene asked.
"I mean…isn't it?"
"No." Selene leaned down. Her voice grazed her lips. "It's about control."
Aria whimpered. "I'm yours. I said I was yours."
"Then prove it." Her voice softened dangerously. "Say it."
"I'm yours," Aria breathed.
"Say what you did."
Aria flushed deeper. Her mouth trembled. "I… I touched myself in my sleep. I came without permission. I dreamed of you and forgot your rules. I'm sorry."
Selene's hand drifted lower, down Aria's stomach, until her fingers brushed her thigh — but didn't touch where Aria needed it most.
Aria's breath came faster.
Selene's fingers hovered, millimeters from where she'd watched her come moments ago.
And then — stilled.
"You don't get to finish," she whispered. "Not unless I allow it."
"Please…"
"No."
Aria shivered.
"You came already," Selene continued, cruelly gentle. "You took what you wanted. You'll wait now."
Aria's lips parted. "I'll wait."
"Say it."
"I'll wait," she repeated, voice small. "I'll obey."
Selene smiled.
Then she moved — just a single finger, dragging it over slick skin, not inside, not quite.
Aria gasped.
The contact was maddening.
"You'll earn it," Selene murmured.
Aria arched. "I will — I promise — just don't stop —"
But Selene stopped. Pulled her hand back and let the heat stretch between them like wire.
Aria whimpered again, needful and trembling.
Selene dragged a finger up, collecting the slickness, then traced a circle over Aria's hip with it, slow and mocking.
"You dream of me," she said. "You call my name in your sleep. And now? You'll lie there. And remember you belong to me."
Aria's voice was barely a breath. "I do. I know I do."
Selene leaned in and kissed her again, slow and deep, tasting the edge of her whimper. Aria melted. Her hands twitched, wanting to touch, but she didn't.
She remembered the rules now.
Selene pulled back.
"You're not allowed to dream of me anymore, little flame."
Aria blinked. "I'm not?"
"No." Her voice was velvet steel. "Dreams are private. Yours aren't. Not anymore."
"Then what am I supposed to do?"
"Ask."
Aria's cheeks flamed. "Even when I'm sleeping?"
"Especially then."
Selene brushed her thumb over Aria's lips, teasing the lower one down until Aria's mouth opened for her without thought.
"You want release?" she asked.
"Yes," Aria whispered.
"You'll beg for it."
"I will —"
"You'll earn it."
Selene's hand slid between her thighs again — this time with intent.
Slow.
Measured.
Each stroke deliberate.
Aria broke apart with trembling sobs, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. Not from pain. From how badly she needed it. From the way Selene gave so little, so much, all at once.
She shattered in her hands.
And this time, when she came, it was with permission.
With Selene's voice anchoring her.
With Selene's hands guiding her.
Afterward, Selene kissed her again — softly, possessively — and gathered her close.
She whispered against her hair.
"No more dreaming."
Aria, dazed and limp in her arms, breathed out —
"I don't need to."
The warmth of her voice lingered like smoke.
But the warmth didn't last.
Aria jolted awake, chest rising sharply. Her hand clutched at the sheets, damp and twisted beneath her. Her breath came in shallow gasps. The room was dim, quiet — but it wasn't her. Selene wasn't holding her.
It was just her. Alone.
Again.
She blinked into the silence, heart hammering in her chest. The air clung to her skin. Everything was hot, stifling. Her thighs were slick. Her shirt stuck to her back. She was soaked.
Aria groaned into her pillow, mortified, then shoved the sheets away. Her body throbbed. Her hips still ached from the phantom touch that wasn't there.
What the hell is wrong with me?
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, trying not to think about the heat pulsing low in her stomach. Her thighs rubbed slickly as she stood, and she bit down a whimper of frustration.
She didn't need this.
She needed a shower.
A cold one.
She padded barefoot into the bathroom and turned the dial all the way down. Ice water hammered down from the showerhead, and she stepped under it with a hiss, bracing herself against the tile.
Her breath caught.
Her body didn't care.
Even as the water chilled her skin to the bone, the memory of Selene's voice still burned — soft, commanding, curling around her name like a promise. Her body had no idea it was fake. Her thighs clenched, traitorous. Her chest rose and fell with short, uneven breaths. She pressed her forehead to the tile and groaned.
"I'm losing it."
She squeezed her eyes shut.
It wasn't the first time she'd dreamed of Selene like that, but it was the first time she'd woken up with the memory of Selene's voice in her ear, chilling breath threading through her hair, fingers teasing her right at the edge.
Worse, she hadn't just wanted it.
She wanted it. Still.
Even now, under freezing water, her body didn't understand it was a dream. Her thighs trembled. Her nipples were tight, peaked against the soaked fabric of her shirt. Every part of her ached, raw and empty and helplessly aware that no amount of ice could dull the craving.
And it was a craving.
Not just physical. Not just heat between her legs.
It was Selene.
Her mouth. Her hands. That voice, cruel and indulgent, whispering Mine in her ear like it was inevitable.
Aria shivered — not from the cold.
Her forehead still pressed against the tile, she let her hand drift down. Just one touch. Maybe that would quiet it.
But she stopped herself before her fingers even grazed her stomach.
"No," she muttered. "No. You're not doing that again."
Because she knew how it would end.
More need. No relief.
And worse — shame. Shame that she wanted Selene that badly, that openly. That the idea of being touched by her wasn't terrifying anymore — it was tempting.
Her eyes flicked open, gaze blurring against the tile.
It would be so easy.
One look. One question. Selene would give her everything. She knew that now. The dream made sure of it.
And part of her — god help her — wanted to ask.
But she wouldn't. She couldn't.
Because she wasn't supposed to want that. Not from her. Not from the woman who kept her on edge with every look, who made her knees weak with one low command.
Not from the woman who would own her if she asked.
So instead, Aria stood under freezing water until her teeth started to chatter and her breath finally evened out.
But the ache didn't go away.
It never really did.
When she finally turned off the water, she stayed in the steamless fog, dripping and shivering, and whispered to the empty room —
"I don't need to."
But her voice trembled.
Even she didn't believe it.