Chapter 55: Hunger Without End
And Aria, dazed and breathless, whispered back—
"I know."
That's when the dream cracked.
Not ended.
Cracked.
Like a mirror split down the middle—still reflecting, still holding her, but fractured.
She didn't wake up in her bed.
She woke up in the dream.
Again.
Still trapped inside it.
Still beneath the weight of Selene's gaze, her phantom presence hovering like a stormcloud ready to break.
Aria's eyes fluttered open with a trembling gasp.
She was lying on her back—barely covered by a sheer sheet, her chest heaving, body flushed with a deep and pulsing heat.
Her panties were soaked.
Utterly, shamefully drenched. The cotton clung between her legs like a second skin, transparent with arousal. It stuck to her folds with obscene intimacy, and when she shifted—just slightly—she felt the squelch of it against her skin. Hot. Sticky. Humiliating.
She moaned before she could stop herself.
The scent of her own need hung thick in the dream air. It made her dizzy. Made her body tremble.
And Selene was there.
Always.
Standing beside the bed, arms crossed, silver hair falling like moonlight over one shoulder, her expression unreadable—but her eyes, oh, they knew everything.
She didn't speak.
She didn't need to.
Aria's breath hitched. Her thighs pressed together instinctively, trying to trap the ache, to hold onto the illusion of control. But it was already gone. Had been for days. Maybe longer.
The wet heat between her legs pulsed in time with her heartbeat. She could feel her folds throbbing through the soaked fabric. Her clit ached. Her body screamed for pressure, contact—anything. But all she had was Selene's stare.
And it made her wetter.
Selene took one slow step forward. Then another.
"Lift the sheet," she said.
The voice wasn't cruel. Just quiet. Measured.
Aria's hands shook.
She obeyed.
Her fingers clutched the thin veil of fabric and pulled it aside, baring herself beneath the soft blue wash of dreamlight.
Her thighs were slick. Her panties, completely soaked. A visible dark patch bloomed between her legs, glistening.
Selene exhaled, slow and deep. Not quite a sigh.
Then, almost absently—
"You ruin yourself so beautifully."
Aria whimpered.
"I—I don't mean to," she whispered.
"You always say that," Selene murmured, kneeling beside the bed. "But your body tells a different story."
She reached out—almost. Her fingers hovered above the wet heat, close enough for Aria to feel the ghost of her warmth. But she didn't touch.
Didn't press.
Didn't relieve.
Aria arched her back slightly, hips lifting, begging without a word.
Selene smiled, soft and cruel.
"No."
Aria sobbed.
"I need it—please, I need—"
"You need control," Selene interrupted. "And you gave that up the moment you whispered I know."
Her hand moved then.
Not down—but up.
She placed two fingers on Aria's lips. Firm. Gentle. Commanding.
"Be silent," she said.
And Aria obeyed.
Her mouth clamped shut, breath trapped behind her teeth, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes.
Her panties were dripping now. She could feel the slick warmth leaking out, soaking into the sheets below. Her clit throbbed painfully. Her entrance clenched on nothing.
Still—Selene didn't touch.
She leaned closer. Close enough that Aria could feel her breath on her cheek.
"You're going to lie here," she said, voice low, "and feel exactly what you've become."
Aria trembled violently.
"You'll remember this ache when you wake," Selene whispered, mouth brushing the shell of her ear. "And you'll know that no matter how many times you come—you'll never be free of me."
Aria sobbed again.
And came.
Hard.
She came with a cry that cracked in her throat, her hips jerking up, thighs locking around the emptiness that refused to fill her. Her panties were ruined now—soaked through, clinging to her folds, making a mess of the bed beneath her.
But it wasn't enough.
Even in the dream—
It wasn't enough.
Selene watched her come apart, quiet and patient, like it was inevitable. Like Aria was just fulfilling her purpose.
And when Aria finally collapsed, shaking and limp, breath ragged in her chest—
Selene kissed her forehead.
"You belong to me," she whispered.
And Aria, still weeping, whispered back—
"I know."
Then the dream dissolved.
And Aria woke up in her real bed.
Sweating. Panting. Ruined.
The sheets were soaked.
Her panties—again—drenched. Her clit throbbed with the echo of a climax she couldn't control. Her thighs were sticky. Her body was sore.
She bit her lip, hard, to keep from crying.
Because she knew it now.
It wasn't a phase. It wasn't random.
It wasn't just the dreams.
She wanted it.
The ache. The denial. The control.
She wanted Selene.
Not her hands.
Not even her lips.
Just her voice.
Her command.
Her cruelty.
And that want wasn't going away.
It was only getting worse.
She's confused between reality and dream.