Chapter 54: Beyond the Dream
She couldn't breathe.
Or maybe she could — and that was the problem.
Each breath dragged heat through her chest like a match struck against her ribs. Her shirt clung damply to her skin, plastered over her breasts as she writhed beneath the sheets, legs tangled, thighs pressed tightly together in a futile attempt to chase pressure that refused to come. Her hips moved on instinct, shallow and desperate, grinding against nothing.
And her dream still held her captive.
A hand — no, a presence — rested between her thighs. Not touching. Just hovering. The weight of it was unbearable. Leather pressed against her core, thick and slow, not pushing in but dragging cruelly, deliberately, like it knew exactly what she needed and refused to give it.
"Stay still, little flame."
The voice was velvet and steel, a low, calm threat that wound down her spine like a cold chain. Aria whimpered before she even saw her.
Selene.
Not the Selene who brewed coffee in tank tops and read silently on the couch. Not even the one who threatened with a smile and silences that scraped under the skin.
This was the Selene of her dreams.
Her nightmare.
Her craving.
She stood tall above Aria, dark hair spilling forward, the shadows turning her pale skin to marble. Her eyes held no warmth — only control. Ownership. Her lips parted like she might speak, but she didn't need to. Aria's breath hitched just from the weight of her gaze.
And she couldn't stop herself.
Her wrists pinned themselves to the bed as if bound. Her spine arched, thighs trembling with effort not to move. Her body burned.
She felt tears prick her lashes.
"Not yet," dream - Selene murmured, voice too gentle to be kind.
The leather shifted forward an inch. Then back.
Aria let out a broken sound, half a sob, half a moan. Her hips bucked upward.
Selene didn't move again.
She just watched.
"You come when I let you," Selene whispered. "Not because you want to."
"I've already earned it," Aria whimpered.
Selene tilted her head. "Have you? Or are you just so very, very desperate?"
The drag resumed — agonizing, taunting, friction without satisfaction. Circles rubbed right over the spot that made Aria cry out, legs kicking against the sheets.
And then it was too much.
She came hard, sharp, raw, the climax ripping through her so fast she couldn't even breathe through it. Her hands twisted the sheets. Her body jerked once, twice, and she cried out —
But she didn't wake up.
Not yet.
Selene leaned in, one cold hand closing around her throat — not to choke. Just to claim.
"Even your dreams belong to me," she whispered.
And that's when Aria's eyes snapped open.
She shot upright in bed, chest heaving like she'd surfaced from deep underwater. Her entire body trembled with aftershocks. The sheets were a mess. Her pillow soaked. Her shirt stuck to her chest, and —
She felt it immediately.
Wet.
Soaked.
Her underwear clung to her like shame, and her thighs were slick with proof of everything she'd just lived through. Her breath hitched. She looked down at herself, flushed and ruined and twitching.
Selene hadn't touched her.
Not once.
Not ever.
It was all in her head. It had always been in her head.
Aria let out a whimper and collapsed back into the mattress, covering her face with her hands. She should feel sick. Humiliated. But all she felt was hunger.
Desire.
Need.
And shame — because even after all that, even after climaxing hard enough to make her vision blur, her body still pulsed with want. Her thighs twitched. Her core ached. The ghost of Selene's voice echoed under her skin.
"Please…" she whispered into her hands. "Please… Selene…"
Give me release. Make it real. I didn't even know I needed this until I met you.
The room gave her no answer.
Of course it didn't.
Five minutes later, the knock at her door sent her flinching like she'd been burned. She scrambled under the sheets, heart thundering, hands scrambling to wipe her face.
"Aria?" Selene's voice drifted through the wood. Calm. Low. A little too soft.
"You didn't come down."
Aria's stomach dropped. She croaked, "I — I overslept."
There was a pause.
"You sound winded."
"I — just hot," she said too fast. "I'll be there in a minute."
Another silence. Then the sound of Selene's footsteps, slow and soft, retreating.
Aria buried her face in the pillow with a strangled sound.
What the hell was happening to her?
The kitchen was bright, streaked with morning sun. Selene stood at the stove, impossibly composed in a black tank and gray sweatpants, her damp silver — blonde hair pulled back loosely. The scent of vanilla pancakes filled the air.
Aria entered stiffly, hyper - aware of her body, the dampness still clinging between her legs. Her thighs still rubbed too sensitively, and her nipples prickled beneath her thin top.
Selene glanced over her shoulder. "You're flushed."
Aria didn't answer. Of course she was flushed.
"You slept heavy," Selene added, flipping a pancake. "No nightmares?"
"No," Aria said, a bit too quickly.
Selene turned, brow raised. "You sure?"
"It wasn't a nightmare."
"No," Selene said quietly, handing her a plate. "I suppose not."
Her fingers brushed Aria's briefly. Cool. Controlled.
Aria sat at the table, her hands trembling slightly as she reached for her fork. She didn't look up. Couldn't. Selene's presence filled every corner of the room like static.
Selene sat across from her.
She didn't stare.
Not exactly.
But her gaze didn't wander far from Aria's mouth. Her fingers. The twitch in her jaw when she tried to act normal.
"How many times now?" Selene asked casually.
Aria blinked. "What?"
"You've dreamed of me," Selene said, voice soft like silk draped over a knife. "How many times?"
"I… I don't know."
"You moan my name," Selene murmured. "It's very pretty."
Aria choked. Her fork slipped and clattered onto her plate.
Selene's smile curved — wicked and knowing.
"You begged," she said gently. "Did you know that?"
Aria stared at her lap. "I didn't mean to."
"Didn't mean to beg?" Selene teased. "Or didn't mean for me to hear?"
"I — I haven't even…" Aria looked up, cheeks scarlet, lips trembling. "You haven't even touched me."
"No," Selene said, voice suddenly quiet. "I haven't."
"Then why —" Aria's breath caught. "Why do I feel like this?"
Selene stood slowly.
She circled the table, each step deliberate, every move quiet and precise. When she reached Aria's chair, she didn't touch her. Not yet.
Instead, she leaned in.
Fingers grazed Aria's jaw, cool and elegant, as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Her breath ghosted across Aria's cheek.
"You're asking the wrong question," Selene whispered.
"It's not why you feel this way."
She leaned just a little closer.
"It's why you want me to feel it too."
Aria's breath hitched audibly. Her lashes fluttered. Her whole body tightened with anticipation.
And Selene stepped back.
"Eat," she said softly. "You'll need your strength."
Aria didn't sleep that night.
She tried — curled in bed with textbooks, headphones, cold showers. Nothing worked. The memory of the dream clung to her skin like perfume. Every time she blinked, she saw Selene's eyes. Every shift of her thighs made her whimper.
By midnight, her legs were trembling.
By one a.m., she had bitten her lip raw.
By two —
She gave in.
The sheets were cool beneath her, but her body burned. Her shirt was rucked up to her ribs, her underwear shoved down around one ankle. She touched herself clumsily at first — slow and unsure. She wasn't innocent, not exactly. She knew how her body worked.
But nothing felt right.
Her fingers couldn't replicate the weight. The pressure. The cruelty.
She rubbed faster. Slower. Tried to tease. Tried to push.
Nothing.
Her breath stuttered in frustration.
"Why…" she gasped, rubbing harder. "Why can't I —"
Her body clenched. She was so close. So close.
And then —
Selene's voice in her mind.
"You don't get to come because you want to…"
Aria sobbed.
The denial. Even in her own head.
She kept rubbing. Desperate. Frantic. She didn't care anymore. She needed release. She needed it so badly it hurt. Her whole body burned. Her hand ached. Her thighs twitched uncontrollably.
And finally —
She came.
It was fast. Brutal. A sharp jolt that made her back arch, her breath vanish. It left her dizzy, shaking, panting.
But it wasn't enough.
Not even close.
She lay there, hand still between her legs, tears pricking her lashes.
She still wanted.
Still needed.
Not Selene's touch.
Her control.
And Aria didn't know how long she could survive without it.