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 body aching, her mind flayed raw by what had happened. Or what she'd dreamed had happened. Selene's voice still curled between her thighs like a silken command, coiling heat in places she could no longer ignore. The phantom of that orgasm haunted her—violent and deep, but cruelly incomplete. It hadn't soothed her. It had split her.
She had shattered.
But not cleanly.
Fractures ran deep through her—cracks that pulsed with every heartbeat, with every breath. Her sheets were soaked. Her body shook from the aftershock, her skin hypersensitive, her thighs tacky and damp with the mess she'd made of herself—alone.
And even then…this nightmare this crave she's trapped again with Selene's touch…
It hadn't been enough.
She remembered the mirror.
Selene's voice.
Her own fingers.
The humiliation of it. The powerlessness. The ache that begged her to submit.
She'd woken gasping, lips bitten raw, her hand still between her legs, as if even unconscious she'd been clawing for release.
Nothing helped.
Not the freezing shower that left her skin pink and raw.
Not pacing barefoot across the guest wing's marble floors, her arms wrapped around her middle like she could hold herself together.
Not even pressing her forehead against the frost-kissed windowpane, letting dawn creep over her skin like a thief—quiet, merciless, exposing.
Her body didn't feel like hers anymore.
It buzzed.
It hummed.
Like it had been rewired.
Like it had been remade.
Made for Selene.
Made to be owned.
She hated it.
She loved it.
And when the sun finally broke over the horizon, spilling soft gold through the arched windows, Aria couldn't take it anymore, in her dreams again stuck with selene.
She crossed the hall on bare feet.
Didn't knock.
Couldn't.
The door opened silently beneath her trembling hand.
Selene was already awake.
She sat on the edge of the bed like she'd been expecting her, one leg crossed over the other, draped in a black silk robe that shimmered like oil. Her pale skin glowed in the low light. Her hair spilled freely over her shoulders, ink-black and gleaming, cascading like a curtain of shadows down her back.
No makeup.
No armor.
Just Selene—bare and elemental, regal in her stillness.
Aria froze in the doorway.
Her breath hitched.
Selene looked at her the way a deity might look at something they'd created—curious, patient, vaguely amused.
"I…" Aria's throat burned. "I can't—sleep."
Selene didn't blink. "Of course not."
"I feel…" Her words trembled. "I feel broken."
Selene smiled, but it wasn't kind. "Good."
She stood.
And Aria nearly collapsed.
Every step Selene took toward her was deliberate. Her presence rolled through the room like velvet fog, thick and suffocating and impossible to resist. Aria's knees buckled under the weight of it.
"I need you," Aria whispered, her voice breaking on the truth.
Selene didn't speak.
She reached forward instead, cupping Aria's chin in cool fingers, tilting her face upward.
This time, Aria didn't flinch.
"I crave you," she breathed. "Even when I hate you for it."
Selene's eyes glittered—sharp, assessing.
"Now you're being honest," she murmured.
A tremor tore through Aria. Her pulse thundered between her legs.
"I'll beg," she whispered. "I'll crawl. If that's what you want—"
Selene turned away.
Opened the drawer beside her bed.
And pulled out a sleek, black vibrator. Smooth. Sinful.
Aria's stomach dropped. Her throat closed.
"Strip," Selene said.
The word sliced through her like a blade.
Aria's fingers shook as she peeled off her clothes. Her hoodie, her tank top. Her bra came next, then her shorts. Her panties clung to her soaked skin before she finally slipped them down.
She stood bare in the morning light.
Vulnerable.
Shivering.
Selene drank her in like a collector admiring a rare piece of art.
"Lie down."
Aria climbed onto the bed, limbs stiff and tingling. She lay on her back, arms by her sides, heart thundering against her ribs.
Selene set the vibrator aside.
Then, with deliberate ease, undid the tie of her robe.
Aria forgot how to breathe.
Selene wore nothing beneath.
She let the silk slide off her shoulders like it was nothing.
And she was everything.
Pale skin stretched over lean muscle. The strength in her thighs, the gentle dip of her waist, the flawless curve of her breasts—it wasn't just beauty.
It was command.
It was divinity.
She sat beside Aria without touching her.
Then picked up the toy.
And turned it on.
A soft hum filled the space between them.
Aria tensed.
"No hands," Selene said. "Keep them above your head."
Aria obeyed.
Barely.
The toy hovered over her skin.
Selene was a sculptor—drawing invisible lines along her body, across her thighs, over her stomach. Teasing. Skimming. Cruel in her precision.
"Please," Aria moaned, lifting her hips. "I need—"
"You're not allowed to come," Selene said, her voice like silk-wrapped steel.
"What?" Aria's breath caught.
"You'll earn it."
Then Selene pressed the vibrator to her clit.
Aria bucked.
A cry tore from her lips. Her muscles locked. Her back arched as pleasure detonated in her veins.
And then—
Selene pulled it away.
Aria sobbed.
Tears welled.
"Selene, please—don't—"
"No."
The toy brushed her entrance.
Light. Mocking.
Not enough.
Never enough.
"Do you understand what you are now?" Selene asked.
Aria's lips parted.
"You're mine," Selene whispered. "You were made to be played with. Look at how quickly your body betrays you. Look how easily I unmake you."
Aria whimpered. Her body burned.
Another pulse. Another flick.
"I'm close," she gasped.
Selene paused.
Then pressed harder.
Aria screamed.
Her thighs trembled. Her toes curled.
"I'm gonna—"
Selene stopped.
Aria cried out—broken and breathless.
"I can't," she sobbed. "I'll die—"
"You won't," Selene said, calm as ice. "You'll learn."
"I'll beg—please—just let me come, I'll say it—"
"Then say it."
"I'm your toy," Aria whispered, breathless. "Your pet. I was made for this. Made for you. Please, Selene—please let me come."
Selene straddled her hips, still not touching, the vibrator humming like a promise in her hand.
"You'll only come when I allow it," she said. "And if you ever disobey, I'll keep you like this for days."
"I won't," Aria gasped. "I'll wait. I'll be good. Just—please—please let me—"
Selene smiled.
Cruel. Victorious.
She pressed the toy to Aria's clit.
And this time, didn't stop.
The orgasm slammed into Aria like a storm.
Violent. All-consuming. Her body seized beneath Selene, bucking, twitching, unraveling. She screamed, her voice hoarse with pleasure, her skin flushed and slick with sweat. Her climax shattered through her in waves, leaving her sobbing, gasping, clinging to the edges of consciousness.
And all the while—
Selene never touched her.
Not with her hands.
Not with her lips.
Just her command.
Her presence.
Her power.
When it ended, Aria collapsed.
Drained.
Drenched.
Destroyed.
Selene turned off the toy. Set it aside with the same precision she'd picked it up.
Then lay beside her.
Still not touching.
Just watching.
"I didn't even need to touch you," she murmured.
Aria shivered.
"Because I'm already yours," she whispered.
Selene didn't smile this time.
She simply nodded.
"You are". "Now Aira wake up".
She leaned in.
Brushed her lips across Aria's temple.
"And now," she whispered, "you know what you're made for."
Aria closed her eyes.
Numb. Warm. Owned.
"Yes," she breathed.
⸻
Later, in the hazy drift between exhaustion and sleep, Aria dreamed again.
Of Selene's voice.
Of hands that never touched, but still ruled her completely.
She woke up panting. Hungry.
"God…"
Her fingers curled in the sheets.
She wanted it again. Needed it.
To be claimed.
To be ruined.
Again.
And again.
Until nothing else remained.