Two Days Later.
Elara hadn't heard from Aurora since that night at the lakehouse.
No calls. No texts. No late-night games.
Silence.
It was torture.
Elara lay on her hostel bed, sleepless, haunted by the taste of strawberries and firelight. Her thighs still ached with the memory of sitting too close. Her lips tingled from words unsaid.
Aurora had left her wanting—then disappeared like a punishment.
So when her phone finally buzzed that afternoon, her heart flipped.
> Aurora: Come over. Wear nothing under.
Elara's hands shook.
She should say no.
She should delete the message, block the number, move on with her broke, virginal, quiet life.
But instead, she typed:
> Elara: I'm on my way.
---
Back at the lakehouse.
Rain hit the glass like a symphony of sin.
Aurora opened the door in a black slip dress that made her look like midnight personified. She didn't smile. Just tilted her head.
"You came fast."
Elara stepped in, soaked. "You texted."
"You obeyed."
"I didn't come to play games," Elara snapped.
"Too bad. I'm still playing."
Aurora stepped forward and yanked off Elara's hoodie, revealing her wet, clinging dress underneath—nothing beneath it, just like Aurora had instructed.
"You listened to me," Aurora whispered.
"I hate that I did."
"You hate that you liked it."
Aurora turned, walking into the living room. Her voice echoed behind her:
> "Follow. If you can handle what comes next."
---
The living room was different now—darker, scented with sandalwood and something more dangerous.
Candles glowed. A velvet chaise faced the fireplace. A single chair sat in the center of the room.
"Sit."
Elara hesitated. "Why?"
Aurora sipped from a crystal glass. "Because you want to be mine."
"I'm not yours."
Aurora walked toward her, slow and deliberate, until they were nose to nose.
She whispered, "Then walk out."
Elara didn't move.
Aurora smiled wickedly. "Exactly."
She pushed Elara into the chair.
"You say no," she whispered, circling like a predator. "But your eyes say 'take me.' Your hands tremble like they've never been held right. And your thighs…"
She leaned in. "They press together every time I speak."
Elara's body betrayed her.
She wanted to run.
She wanted to stay.
She wanted everything Aurora had threatened.
---
Aurora sat on Elara's lap, straddling her.
Their breaths tangled.
Elara tried to speak, but Aurora silenced her with a finger to her lips.
"No more words."
Then she kissed her.
It wasn't gentle.
It was an invasion.
Aurora's lips were fire, tongue demanding. Her hands tangled in Elara's hair, pulling her deeper, harder. Elara gasped, her mouth opening—surrendering.
She moaned into her mouth, embarrassed by how quickly her body melted.
Aurora pulled back, biting her lower lip.
"You kiss like you were born for me," she whispered.
Elara's voice trembled. "Why do you keep doing this to me?"
"Because you're mine," Aurora said. "Even if you deny it."
---
Aurora stood and held out her hand.
"Come. I want to show you something."
Elara took it.
She didn't ask why.
She didn't care.
She was too far gone now.
---
Upstairs. Aurora's bedroom.
Dark walls. Mirrors everywhere. A bed big enough to swallow guilt.
Elara stood awkwardly as Aurora closed the door.
"This is where I break girls like you," Aurora said softly.
Elara stiffened. "Is that what I am? Another girl to ruin?"
"No," Aurora said. "You're the one I want to ruin the most."
She stepped closer, her fingers brushing Elara's soaked dress strap.
"You're the innocent I'll remember when I'm dying."
Elara shivered.
"I'm not ready—" she whispered.
Aurora placed a finger on her lips. "I know. That's what makes this intoxicating."
Then Aurora did something unexpected.
She pulled Elara into her arms.
Not for lust.
But for warmth.
"I'm not going to touch you tonight," she whispered into her hair.
"Why?"
"Because you think this is only about sex," Aurora murmured. "But I want more than your body. I want your obsession."
Elara swallowed. "You already have it."
"I know."
They lay on the bed.
Aurora behind her, arms wrapped around her waist like chains made of velvet.
And for the first time, Elara felt more scared than she had when they were kissing.
Because this wasn't just seduction.
This was ownership.
And she was already sold.
---
Midnight.
Elara opened her eyes.
Aurora was awake, tracing lazy circles on her arm.
"You sleep pretty," Aurora said. "Even your breathing is submissive."
Elara whispered, "Why are you like this?"
Aurora stared at the ceiling.
"My mother used to say love is weakness. So I decided to make love my weapon."
Elara turned. "So you destroy people?"
Aurora smiled bitterly. "No. I make them destroy themselves—for me."
Elara touched her face. "Do you ever fall?"
Aurora closed her eyes. "Once."
"What happened?"
"I got up."
Elara leaned in, their lips almost brushing again. "I'm not like other girls."
"I know," Aurora whispered. "That's why you'll ruin me too."
Then they kissed again.
And this time, it wasn't fire.
It was slow, vulnerable. Terrifying.
Because Elara knew—she wouldn't come back from this.