CHAPTER 18
ARIA
My eyes open, then shut again.
Everything feels off—like. The world is slightly tilted, the edges are too soft, and the shapes are not quite right.
Am I floating? Or sinking?
I can’t tell.
My body feels heavy. Too warm. Like I’m wrapped in something thick I can’t see.
Where am I?
I blink a few more times. The ceiling comes into view, blurry at first.
The lights are dim. Shadows shift in the corners, barely moving.
It’s quiet. Still. Too still.
Then the scent hits me.
Familiar. Unmistakable.
Him.
It’s everywhere. In the air, in the sheets, on my skin..
I breathe in without thinking. It’s musky and dark and warm, and it wraps around me like a second blanket.
A shiver crawls down my spine.
I should move—should sit up—but my limbs don’t want to listen.
My body doesn’t feel like mine.
Everything is heavy, like I’ve been moving for hours—like I’ve run a marathon I don’t remember.
Even the blanket feels strange against my skin.
Too soft.
Too much.
A faint tingling runs across my legs, and I flinch without meaning to.
Every part of me feels off.
My thighs press together instinctively, and the ache low in my stomach intensifies. It’s not pain exactly—more like… hunger.
Need.
Something thick and pulsing and alive inside me.
What is happening to me?
My fingers curl slightly into the sheet. My breath stutters.
Then—flashes.
Not memories, not quite.
Just flickers of sensation and sound that hit me all at once.
My hand buried in his hair.
His mouth between my thighs.
The way he growled my name like it was the only word he knew.
The slick sound of his tongue against my skin.
My own voice, broken and breathless, whispering things I’d never dared to say before—things I didn’t even know I was capable of.
“Lian—please…”
His fingers gripping my hips, holding me down as my body trembled beneath him.
My nails digging into his shoulders.
The drag of my tongue over his chest.
His taste in my mouth—salty, warm, intimate.
My body jolts at the memory, my breath catching in my throat.
No. It couldn’t be real.
Could it?
But I can feel it.
The soreness between my legs.
The damp heat lingering low in my belly.
I can still feel him—his mouth, his hands—like a ghost tracing every inch of me.
I stare up at the ceiling, my pulse thudding in my ears.
I don’t remember losing control like that.
That wasn’t me.
It’s never been me.
But it happened.
And worse—I wanted it.
Every moment.
Every word I whispered without thinking.
Things I’ve never said to anyone.
My throat tightens as I try to swallow, but the weight of it all sits heavy in my chest.
Did I really say those things?
Did I really touch him like that?
Was it real… or just a dream?
I don’t know.
Everything is too hazy, too tangled in heat and instinct.
I try to think—to retrace, to remember—but my thoughts keep slipping through my fingers like sand.
My heart beats faster.
I feel like I’m losing control of something… or maybe I already have.
I press a trembling hand to my chest, as if that will somehow ground me, but all I feel is the wild, pulsing rhythm beneath my skin.
The memory—real or not—won’t let go of me. It lingers like fingerprints.
Something’s wrong.
Something’s different.
And still, even through the confusion, the haze, the fear…
God help me—I want more.
I can hear my own heartbeat, a steady drumbeat thundering in my ears, drowning out everything else—
It’s like I’m floating just beyond myself, detached and yet impossibly aware of every small movement.
Then I feel it—
a presence.
Him.
Lian.
My breath hitches, and my eyes flutter open, the room around me fading into nothing. It’s like everything narrows down to this one feeling, this one impossible moment.
Somewhere deep inside, a voice whispers that it can’t be real.
That I’m still under, still drifting in whatever they gave me.
But it feels real.
Every nerve in my body lights up, responding to him like it remembers something I don’t.
I swear I feel him lower his head, and for a heartbeat, disbelief flashes through me. A jagged, gasping kind of shock that slices through the haze.
Before I can react—his mouth closes around my fingers.
Warm. Wet.
Intimate in a way that steals the air from my lungs.
His tongue swirls over the pads of my fingertips with slow, deliberate hunger.
My body jerks in response, startled by the depth of the feeling. It’s gentle and yet possessive, like he’s tasting something sacred.
My heart stammers violently.
This can’t be real.
But no dream has ever felt like this.
His tongue sweeps over them with a hunger that’s almost animalistic, sending an electric pulse straight through my spine, awakening every nerve ending I didn’t even know existed.
“Lian…?”
The word slips from my lips, fragile and uncertain, barely more than a breath.
I don’t even know if I said it out loud or if it was just a sound trapped inside my head, swallowed whole by the thick haze that clouds my thoughts.
His grip tightens, possessive and sure, as his hands slip beneath my clothes.
The roughness of his palms contrasts with the delicate skin they trail over, like he’s memorizing every inch—the curve of my waist, the hollow of my hip, the subtle rise and fall of my breath beneath his touch.
His fingers explore with a mix of tenderness and urgency, sparking a dizzying blend of fear and desire that races through my veins and anchors me in this surreal moment.
His face presses against my chest, the heat of his breath warm and ragged against my skin.
I feel the rapid pounding of his heart beneath his ribs—frantic, wild, echoing my own racing pulse.
A soft gasp escapes me as his mouth drifts lower, lips and tongue tracing a burning path down my body.
Every inch he covers leaves a trail of fire, the sensation both intoxicating and terrifying.
It’s like he’s awakening something deep inside me, something I don’t understand but can’t resist.
Down… down… until he’s at my abdomen.
I can feel the wetness of his tongue, the scratch of his stubble, and it’s a sensation that’s both foreign and familiar, sending my mind spinning.
A warning sparks in my chest, weak and confused. I try to move, try to crawl backwards, away from him.
My limbs shift sluggishly, my nails digging into the him, but it’s no use.
His grip tightens around my waist, one hand locking around my hips with maddening ease, holding me in place.
“Stop—” I try to say, but the word melts into a gasp as his tongue dips into my navel, sending a wave of pleasure crashing through me.
My body betrays me, arching into his touch despite my confusion. Heat flares, radiating from every point of contact, spreading like wildfire through my veins.
I don’t want this—or maybe I do—but I can’t think.
I can’t breathe.
His tongue traces patterns on my skin, sending shivers down my spine, and I can feel myself growing wet, my body responding to his touch despite my mind’s protests.
I try to form words to protest, but all that comes out are soft moans and pleading whimpers.
"Please…" I manage to whisper, but I don’t know what I’m asking for.
More?
Less?
I don’t know.
My emotions are a tangled mess of desire, fear, and confusion, each one vying for control.
My body arches into him, my voice caught in my throat, and before I can make sense of any of it—before I can decide—a wave crashes through me.
My back bows.
My fingers curl, gripping his shoulders with a ferocity that surprises even me.
The pleasure is overwhelming, consuming me completely, and I can feel myself falling, falling into an abyss of sensation.
His grunts and low moans vibrate against my skin, adding to the symphony of pleasure that surrounds me, anchoring me in this surreal experience.
This isn’t real.
It can’t be real.
The thought flickers weakly in the back of my mind as I try to crawl away.
My body doesn’t listen—not really—and before I can get far, his hands find me.
Firm.
Possessive.
Certain.
He anchors me with ease, dragging me back against him like I weigh nothing at all.
“Wait—”
The word barely leaves my lips, more breath than sound, lost in the haze curling through my brain.
I want to resist.
I should resist.
The fight inside me fizzles out as quickly as it flares. My breath catches, and my back arches.
Everything blurs—time, thought, control—until I can’t tell where I end and he begins.
My pulse pounds in my ears, a frantic, desperate rhythm that matches the chaos in my mind.
My body arches into him, my voice caught in my throat, and before I can make sense of any of it—before I can decide—a wave crashes through me.
My back bows.
My fingers curl, gripping the sheets with a ferocity that surprises even me. And everything goes black.
The pleasure is overwhelming, consuming me completely, and I can feel myself falling, falling into an abyss of sensation.
His grunts and low moans vibrate against my skin, adding to the symphony of pleasure that surrounds me, anchoring me in this surreal experience.
When I come to, my body is limp, sated, and I can feel a smile playing on my lips.
I look down at Lian, his head still between my legs, his eyes closed in bliss.
I run my fingers through his hair, my touch gentle and appreciative, grounding me in the reality of what just happened.
And then—darkness.
My thoughts scatter like dust, and the world fades into quiet, pulsing black.