Chapter 44: Fever Makes Everything Feel Like the First Time III
She didn't even mean to. It just happened. Fevered. Raw. Her fingers brushed Elara's shirt, fisting it. Her tongue slid across Elara's lower lip before she even realized what she was doing.
She felt Elara stiffen — but she didn't pull away.
Instead, she kissed Aria back.
Slowly. Carefully. With the kind of hunger you hide beneath the surface until it's too much.
Aria's fingers curled into long, wavy strands of Elara's hair, anchoring herself to the only real thing in that heat - drenched haze. Their mouths moved together, soft and electric. Aria whimpered, then licked into the kiss — messy, uncoordinated, like her body had decided she wanted this before her brain could argue.
And Elara let her.
One hand braced at Aria's jaw, steadying her. The other clutched the edge of the bed like she was holding back a storm.
When Aria gasped into her mouth, Elara pulled back — barely — lips flushed, her deep violet - blue eyes darkened, chest rising fast.
Aria blinked up at her, pupils blown wide, a dazed, pink flush spreading across her cheeks. Her lips were parted, wet, her voice groggy and soft.
"Sister Rara…" Her pout was as fragile as it was sincere. "Kiss me back."
Elara's breath caught in her throat.
"Kiss me back," Aria whispered again, voice cracking with need. "Teach me… properly."
That undid her.
Elara didn't answer with words. Her hand slid behind Aria's neck, pulling her in again. Their mouths met in another kiss, and this time, Elara guided her. Her lips moved slowly, deliberately, feeding Aria gentle rhythm and pressure.
Aria let out a soft, "Mmm…" into the kiss, pressing forward without knowing where to go. Her mouth was too open, her tongue a little too fast, but she was trying. Really trying. She kissed like someone who wanted to learn everything by feel alone.
Between kisses, she huffed softly and whined, "More, Sister Rara… kiss me again."
Elara pulled back for a breath, her lips slick and her voice low. "You're not doing it wrong," she whispered, the rasp in her voice thick with restraint.
"But you stopped," Aria murmured, her brows drawing together as she followed the retreat. "Rara… kiss me." Her fingers tightened in Elara's hoodie, tugging her closer. "I don't know how unless you do."
Elara's breath slowed. "Aria —"
"Please," Aria said softly, insistently, her voice brushing just beneath Elara's skin. She tilted her head, closing the distance until their mouths nearly touched. "Teach me. Like before. Show me how you want it." Her lips grazed Elara's, not quite a kiss, just enough to make it impossible to ignore. "I'll follow. I always do."
Elara didn't stand a chance.
She leaned in again, caught Aria's mouth in another kiss — deeper this time, hotter. Her tongue slid slowly past Aria's lips, coaxing her into following. Aria melted with a soft moan, "Hmmm," mimicking her rhythm as best she could.
Elara smiled against her mouth at the sound, pulling her closer by the waist until there was no space left between them. Aria let out a shaky gasp when Elara nipped at her bottom lip, then kissed her harder to cover the noise.
"Elara —" she whispered between breaths, voice unsteady.
"Don't stop saying my name," Elara murmured back, kissing her again, slower now, savoring the way Aria's lips trembled beneath hers.
Aria clung tighter, fingers threading through Elara's hair, tugging like she couldn't bear even an inch of distance. Their kisses turned hungrier. Wet. Full of little sounds — the soft hums Aria couldn't hold back, the quiet sighs Elara let slip when Aria tried to match her pace.
When Aria broke for air, her forehead pressed to Elara's, her lips were glossy and parted, eyes dazed. "I can't… keep up with you."
"Yes, you can," Elara whispered, brushing her mouth over hers again, teasing, coaxing her back in. "You're already doing it."
Aria kissed her again, desperate, almost clumsy, but Elara met every movement, slowed it down just enough to guide her. She tasted her lip again, this time deliberately, licking softly before retreating with a breathless laugh.
"You taste like trouble," Aria said, voice shaky but warm.
"And you taste like you're mine," Elara answered without hesitation, before claiming her mouth again — harder, deeper, until Aria was whimpering into her, fingers tugging helplessly at her hair.
The world shrank to the heat between their mouths, the rhythm of their breathing, the way Elara's hand slid slowly up Aria's back, anchoring her as if she might slip away otherwise.
And Aria, breathless and dizzy, kissed her back like she had no intention of ever letting go.
"You taste delicious," Aria whispered, fevered and honest.
Elara groaned under her breath.
Aria tugged her forward again. "More. Sister Rara, kiss me more."
Their mouths collided again, messy and breathless, heat spilling across them like fire caught in silk. Aria tried to take the lead, palms framing Elara's face, tilting and pressing, but her movements were too eager, clumsy in a way that only made her more irresistible. Every imperfect angle, every impatient brush of her lips drew a pull through Elara she couldn't resist.
A soft, unintended sound slipped from Aria's throat, low and coaxing, almost a whine. "I don't —" Her voice wavered, husky without her knowing it. "I still don't know what I'm doing."
The words were meant as a complaint, but to Elara they landed like seduction incarnate. Aria wasn't aware of how her fever - shimmered voice carried a pull, or that the subtle tremor in her body — the heat, the rapid pulse — was feeding a growing need she didn't yet understand. Every brush of Elara's skin against hers, every small press of warmth, made her hunger sharper, made her crave more without knowing why.
Elara's hand slid behind her back, fingers curling instinctively at the curve of Aria's waist, anchoring her close. Her own breath caught. "Then let me," she murmured, voice rough with something deeper than desire, something primal that startled her.
Aria blinked, lashes fluttering like a soft invitation. She nodded ever so slightly, unaware that the motion, the look in her eyes, the heat of her chest pressed against Elara's, was an invitation charged with an unspoken, growing hunger. She leaned in, pliant and trusting, lips brushing against Elara's again, unknowingly stoking the fire that tied them together.
Elara didn't question it. She couldn't. Every part of her wanted to respond, to follow, to give in. The moment held them suspended, electric and fevered, as if the world outside — the dark streets, the chaos, the quiet fears — had ceased to exist, leaving only the pull between them, both dangerous and irresistible, neither fully aware of just how much was awakening in the other.
Elara kissed her again, this time with complete control. Her lips moved with purpose, teaching her, feeding her kisses like lessons. She kissed her slow, then fast, then deep.
Her tongue tangled with Aria's, coaxing her into matching the rhythm. And Aria did — melting more with each second, mimicking her like a student desperate to impress.
Every breathy moan, every huff of heat from Elara's mouth, made Aria tremble. She kissed back with more confidence now, following Elara's lead, letting the sensation take her.
"Hmmm… Rara," she moaned again, lost in the haze.
Her hands slid to Elara's shoulders, fingers splayed, trying to hold on as her whole body responded to the way Elara kissed — with hunger, with possession, with a kind of restraint that threatened to break.
Their mouths stayed locked in a long, drawn - out kiss, lips parted and wet, breath mingling in the space between. Elara moaned softly as she deepened it again, and Aria copied the sound instinctively, kissing her harder, losing herself entirely.
And when Elara finally slowed, pressing one last kiss to Aria's swollen mouth, Aria whispered, breathless, "Don't stop…"
Elara's lips were on her again before she could finish.
And Aria let go of everything — her fever, her questions, the weight of what was happening — lost completely in the warmth of Elara's mouth and the way she was being kissed.
Elara devoured her softly, slowly, like she was savoring every slip of tongue, every trembling gasp that left Aria's parted lips. Her fingers slipped from Aria's jaw to her neck, then lower, resting just over her fevered collarbone like a boundary she refused to cross — yet.
Their mouths fit again, hungry and heated, with Aria whimpering through every clumsy press. She didn't know how to breathe through it. She didn't care. She just wanted Elara's lips and the way they made her feel — like floating, like blooming, like nothing else mattered but more.
Aria's hips shifted beneath the blanket, seeking friction, seeking Elara. Her hand tugged harder at the waves of hair between her fingers, trying to pull her closer, make the kiss deeper, fuller.
"Rara…" she breathed out, dragging the name into the space between their mouths, flushed and helpless.
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Fever taught the body to speak first,
to reach before thought could intervene.
Heat blurred mercy into hunger,
and restraint trembled like a held breath
over a mouth that did not forget
how to ask for more.
In the dark, want became a lesson,
slow and deliberate as a blade drawn close.
Some touches do not take — they awaken,
marking the moment where control frays
and something dangerous learns
how good it feels to be wanted.