Chapter 35: Was It Even Real?! (R18+)
"Ugh~ agh~ ah~ u-ugh~ haah~ Keres~ oh~ Keres~ hnng~"
Asteria’s soft moans spill from her lips like whispered prayers, each sound trembling in the warm air of their bedroom. She lies beneath her wife, her body arching into every touch as Keres peppers her neck with open, hot kisses.
Every press of lips, every swipe of tongue, every gentle scrape of teeth sends Asteria spiraling deeper into sensory overload. Her mind blurs at the edges, thoughts dissolving into nothing but the wet heat of Keres’s mouth against her skin and the weight of her wife’s body pinning her to the mattress.
The way Keres squeezes her bosom makes her gasp, but when those clever fingers twist her soft, pink nipple, Asteria’s entire body jerks beneath her.
The sensation shoots straight through her, a line of electric pleasure connecting her chest to her core, and she can’t stop the broken cry that escapes her throat.
"Hnnng~ please~ agh!" Asteria breathes heavily, her chest heaving as she gasps and moans at the touch. Her fingers scramble for anchor, gripping the silk sheets beneath her, then finding Keres’s shoulders, then tangling in her own hair as she tries to anchor herself against the madness building inside her.
Nothing feels solid anymore, not when Keres is touching her like this, not when every twist of those fingers sends shockwaves rippling through her trembling form.
"You seem to be enjoying this, Asteria." Keres’s voice is low and teasing, rich with that smirk Asteria can hear even if she can’t see it clearly through the haze of pleasure clouding her vision.
Keres twists her nipple again, harder this time, and Asteria’s body jerks violently with every rotation, her hands gripping whatever she can find—the sheets, Keres’s arm, her own thigh—to keep herself from floating away completely.
"Your body is so honest, even when you try to hide how you feel."
"Hnnng! Haah~ K-Keres, n-no more~" Asteria whimpers, but even she can hear the lie in her voice, the way her breath hitches with need rather than refusal.
She doesn’t want Keres to stop. She wants this to never end, even as it feels like too much, like her skin is too sensitive, like she might shatter into pieces if the pressure doesn’t stop building.
"Haha," Keres chuckles, and the sound is warm against Asteria’s collarbone, more like a mockery of her protest than genuine amusement.
"You’re saying no more, yet you’re already so wet for me." Keres pulls back just enough to gaze down at Asteria’s womanhood, and the moment those deep gray eyes fall on her exposed crotch, Asteria feels an intense wave of embarrassment crash over her.
She tries to close her legs, to hide the evidence of her arousal glistening there, but Keres is already between her thighs, already seeing everything.
Asteria’s cheeks burn, painted a deep shade of crimson as she lies there bare and vulnerable for her wife’s hungry gaze. The exposure makes her want to curl into herself, but the desire in Keres’s eyes keeps her frozen in place, pinned by that look more effectively than by any physical restraint.
"N-No~ it’s not me~" Asteria stammers, the denial was weak and breathless even to her own ears. She shakes her head, her hair sticking to her sweat-dampened forehead, but she can’t look away from Keres’s smug, affectionate expression.
"Is that so?" Keres murmurs, her voice dropping to that dangerous, honeyed tone that always makes Asteria’s stomach flip. "Then I suppose I should check for myself. Make sure it’s not really you who’s dripping like this, panting like this, begging like this."
Keres leans down, and Asteria expects her to go straight for where she’s aching most, but instead her wife takes her time, pressing soft, worshipful kisses to Asteria’s chest, her bosoms, her abdomen.
Each press of lips feels like warm breeze in a temple, like Keres is praying at the altar of her body, and something about that devotion drives Asteria to the brink of madness more than any rough touch could.
She whimpers, her hands coming up to thread through Keres’s hair, not sure if she wants to pull her away or push her lower.
"Please," Asteria whispers, the word breaking in her throat. "Keres, please..."
"Please what, my love?" Keres asks against her stomach, her breath hot against sensitive skin. "Use your words. Tell me what you want."
Asteria opens her mouth, but the embarrassment is too thick, the words too dirty. She shakes her head, biting her lip until she tastes blood, or thinks she does—everything tastes like copper and desire right now.
"That’s alright," Keres says softly, almost tenderly, though there’s still that edge of command in her voice. "I’ll find out for myself."
Until this moment, Keres has been holding both her thighs, keeping them spread but not forcing them wide. Now she pushes, spreading Asteria’s legs further, exposing her completely to the cool air of the room and the heat of Keres’s gaze.
"Haah~ n-no~ do-don’t, please~ Keres~" Asteria pleads, her words breathy and falling on deaf ears. She knows Keres won’t stop, knows she doesn’t really want her to, but the instinct to protect herself from this overwhelming vulnerability is too strong to silence completely.
Her hips buck upward involuntarily, seeking friction, seeking more, even as her mouth forms weak protests.
Keres doesn’t respond with words. She simply leans down, her dark hair falling like a curtain around Asteria’s hips, and licks a long, slow stripe through the wetness between Asteria’s slick folds.
The sensation is immediate and devastating—hot, wet, impossibly intimate. Asteria’s eyes widen until they hurt, and her hips buckle up sharply, her back leaving the mattress as she screams a moan that tears from her chest, raw and desperate.
"Ugh! Agh! Ah! Haah! Hnnng! K-Keres! Agh! Ugh! Keres! Hnnn! Keres! Aaah! Haah!"
She can’t control it, can’t control any of it—the sounds tearing from her throat, the way her body writhes, the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.
Keres’s tongue slides against her heat with devastating wetness, hot and firm and knowing exactly where to press, where to circle, where to flick.
Asteria’s hands fly to the sheets, gripping them until her knuckles turn white, her nails threatening to tear through the expensive silk.
What’s even more maddening is the way Keres spreads her folds with gentle fingers, exposing Asteria’s soft, sensitive bud to the air for just a moment before descending upon it with devastating focus.
The sudden direct contact makes Asteria see stars, her vision whiting out at the edges as Keres sucks the sensitive nub into her mouth and swirls her tongue around it in tight, relentless circles.
"UGHHHH!" Asteria screams, the sound ripped from her throat without her permission. Her legs tremble on either side of Keres’s head, her thighs trying to clamp shut around the source of such intense sensation, but Keres holds her open, holds her spread and vulnerable and completely at her mercy.
"Oh! O-Oh! Oh God! Oh God! Keres! Hnnng! Haah! Hmmm! Keres, haah! N-No more~ agh~ Keres~"
The words pour out of her in a stream of consciousness, prayers and curses and begging all mixed together. She doesn’t know what she’s saying anymore, doesn’t know if she’s asking Keres to stop or never stop.
Her body is wound tight as a spring, coiled with pressure that keeps building and building with no release in sight.
Keres doesn’t stop her movements. If anything, she doubles her efforts, her tongue working Asteria’s clit with relentless movements while her hand slides up, up, tracing the inside of Asteria’s thigh until those fingers are hovering at her entrance, teasing, testing, driving her insane with anticipation.
"Please," Asteria sobs, her voice cracking. "Inside, please, I need—"
She doesn’t get to finish the sentence before Keres gently slides two fingers inside her tight heat, curling them just so, finding that spot that makes Asteria’s entire body convulse. The stretch is perfect, the fullness exactly what she needed but not enough, never enough.
Asteria’s eyes widen further, tears now spilling from the corners of her eyes to slide down her temples and into her hair. Her moans become louder, more desperate, more animal, and as the pleasure crests higher, saliva slowly flows out of the corner of her mouth, her jaw slack with overwhelming sensation.
Her back arches violently upward, a bowstring pulled taut, her head thrown back against the pillow. She is a trembling mess now, every muscle quivering, her skin flushed and slick with sweat, her hair a wild tangle around her head.
"O-Oh! Oh! Keres! Keres!"
"Fuck, the way you moan my name, Asteria," Keres groans against her thigh, her voice rough with her own arousal. The sound of Keres enjoying this, enjoying her, sends another spike of heat through Asteria’s belly. "Say it again. Louder."
"Keres! Keres! Please, I—" Asteria grip her hair, but not enough to hurt Keres as she do so.
Keres moves up her body, sliding over her skin with a predator’s grace, her fingers still thrusting in that steady, devastating pace.
She captures Asteria’s mouth in a kiss that’s more teeth than lips, then pulls back to kiss her nose, her cheeks, her jaw, even as those fingers continue their work below, thrusting into Asteria’s tight heat with increasing speed.
"You’re so beautiful, Asteria," Keres whispers, full of something that looks like love but feels like possession. "Look at you. Look how perfect you are like this. All spread out for me."
Asteria feels intoxicated by the way Keres compliments her, by the desire warring in that gaze. As the thrusts of Keres’s fingers quicken even more, stars explode behind Asteria’s eyelids, her head dips deep into her pillow, leaving her mouth wide open and her neck vulnerable to Keres’s access.
She offers herself up completely, unable to do anything else, unable to be anything else but this—pleasure and need and Keres’s name.
"Ugh! Hnnng!"
"That’s it, Asteria," Keres encourages, her voice was a low growl against Asteria’s exposed throat. She bites down gently, sucking a mark into the skin there, and claiming her.
"Lose yourself on me. But you’re not allowed to come undone. Not yet. Hold it for me."
"P-Please~ Please~ Let me come~ hnnn~ I... I-I... I need it." Asteria is sobbing now, tears streaming freely down her face, her body was so tight she feels like she might break. She’s so close, hovering right on the edge, and the denial is exquisite torture.
"No." Keres says it with firm refusal, final and absolute, and Asteria has no choice but to obediently comply to her whims, to hold back the orgasm that’s trying to crash through her because Keres said no, because she always obeys Keres, because she wants to be good, wants to be worthy of the pleasure Keres gives her.
Asteria wraps her arms around Keres, her nails burying deep into Keres’s back, probably leaving marks, probably drawing blood, but she can’t help it, can’t control the way she clings to her wife as the pace of Keres’s fingers continues its onslaught.
The thrusts are harder now, deeper, and Asteria’s walls tighten around Keres’s fingers involuntarily, gripping her, trying to keep her inside, trying to draw out the pleasure forever.
"You’re being such a beautiful mess," Keres observes, her voice thick with satisfaction. "How about I add more? Make it even better for you?"
She teases, but Asteria is past the point of understanding teasing. She just nods frantically, her head moving against the pillow, her hair sticking to her damp skin. "Yes, yes, anything, please—"
Keres adds another finger, pushing inside alongside the other two, and the stretch burns so perfectly that Asteria screams. The walls of her heat tighten impossibly further around Keres’s fingers, the fullness was so overwhelming, the sensation of being filled and claimed and owned making her head spin.
"Ugh! Hnnng! K-Keres! T-Too much, p-please~ haah~ have mercy~ hnnn! N-No! Aaaaah! A-Ahh! Ah!"
Keres licks her earlobe and bites her ear gently, her fingers shoving deeper inside her, curling to hit that spot again and again, and the juices are squirting uncontrollably now, Asteria’s body betraying every last bit of her dignity as she loses control completely.
"Aaah~" Asteria is now at a sensory overload that leaves her in a haze of pleasure and pain, the line between the two blurred into nonexistence.
Her eyes are unfocused, hazy, left to roll back in her head as the pleasure intensifies to a level that feels almost religious, almost transcendent. She is nothing but sensation, nothing but Keres’s fingers and Keres’s voice and Keres’s will.
"Keres~ haah~ Keres~" Asteria mumbles, the name the only word she remembers, the only anchor in this sea of sensation.
Keres smiles against her cheek, beautiful and terrible and everything Asteria has ever wanted. "That’s it, Asteria... Moan my name, until that’s the only word you know how to moan. Until you forget everything else."
She whispers these words and then gently kisses Asteria more passionately, her tongue sweeping through Asteria’s mouth, tasting her, claiming her there too. Asteria can taste herself on Keres’s lips, can smell her own arousal thick in the air between them, and it should be embarrassing but it’s not, it’s perfect, and just right.
Keres’s free hand finds Asteria’s left hand, pinning it to the mattress. She intertwines their fingers and locks them together, securing Asteria’s hand to the bed with a grip that’s both tender and unbreakable.
The symbolism isn’t lost on Asteria even in her delirium—Keres holding her down, holding her together, holding her.
As they break the kiss, Asteria moans even louder, the sound echoing in the room, as she’s so close to the brink of her climax. She can taste it, can feel it hovering just out of reach. "I... I’m near! P-Please! Keres, please, I can’t— I need to—"
Keres smirks, that devastating expression that makes Asteria’s heart stutter. "Come on, Love... Come undone for me... But you’ll wake up sooner."
Asteria feels a sudden chill, a somber coldness cutting through the heat of the moment when Keres mentions waking up. She looks at Keres, really looks at her, and something in her wife’s expression seems distant suddenly, sad even.
"What?" Asteria asks, confusion cutting through the haze of pleasure. "What do you mean? Keres, I’m not— this isn’t—"
And suddenly Keres kisses her again, hard and deep and final, and everything goes black.
Asteria jolts awake in their bed, her body jerking upright so fast she nearly falls off the edge. She is breathing heavily, her chest heaving, her lungs burning as she gasps for air that suddenly feels too thin, and now too real.
She is sweating profusely, her nightgown sticking to her skin, and her hair plastered to her face and neck. She is alone, the space beside her in the bed is empty, the sheets was cold and undisturbed.
She panics, her heart hammering against her ribs, and immediately checks underneath the blanket, terrified and hopeful in equal measure. She sees that she’s still wearing her nightgown, the cotton fabric twisted around her legs, modest and intact.
The relief is immediate but confusing—if it was a dream, why does her body still throb with phantom pleasure? Why can she still feel the ghost of Keres’s fingers inside her?
But what really makes Asteria’s cheeks flush with renewed heat is when she suddenly realizes that she has soaked the bed beneath her. The sheets are damp, her nightgown is damp between her legs, and the smell of her own arousal is unmistakable in the quiet morning air.
"Oh God~ what have I done?~" she mutters to herself, her voice trembling with mortification, and she feels utterly ashamed and vulnerable, a grown woman who has wet herself like a child, except she knows, she knows it wasn’t urine, knows her body well enough to recognize the aftermath of intense arousal when she feels it.
"Why am I dreaming things like that?!" She continues to ask herself, her hands coming up to cover her burning face. She doesn’t know why, but the way Keres touched her in the dream felt so real, so impossibly real, that she can’t help but bite her lower lip as the phantom sensations linger, making her squirm against the damp sheets.
But she also winces at the sharp sting the moment she bites her lower lip, the pain was sudden and surprising. She tastes something like blood.
She freezes, her heart skipping a beat. Carefully, she stands on shaky legs and moves to see herself in the mirror on the vanity across the room.
What she sees makes her blood run cold and hot simultaneously. Her lower lip has a small, stinging wound, a fresh cut that hadn’t been there when she went to sleep. And her lips don’t look normal either—they’re swollen, bruised-looking, kiss-bitten and abused in a way that sleeping alone in one’s bed should not cause.
"What happened to my lips?" She asks herself, her fingers coming up to trace the wound, wincing at the contact. "Why does it look swollen? Why does it hurt?"
She tries to make sense of what happened to her lips, tries to rationalize the physical evidence of passion that her dream should not have left behind.
The mirror reflects back a woman who looks thoroughly ravished—hair tangled, eyes still hazy with lingering desire, lips bruised, and skin flushed. She looks like someone who has just been made love for hours, not someone who has merely slept alone.
Asteria stares at her reflection, her mind was racing as her body still aches with unfulfilled need. The dream had ended with Keres saying she would wake up, but the evidence suggests something else entirely. Had Keres been there? Had she come to bed and left before morning? Or had the dream been something more, something deeper, a connection that transcended sleep?
