Page 13

Thirteen

SUN

She finally did it.

I had been waiting—watching—but until now, she had been too aware, too present in the waking world for me to reach her.

But now? Oh, now she was drifting.

Dawn’s thoughts were soft, distant things, unraveling like golden thread as she stared out the window. The sun was warm against her skin, the rhythmic lull of the moving train coaxing her mind into a quiet haze.

And I was there.

The moment she surrendered to her thoughts, I slipped in.

I poured into her mind like light flooding through an open window, filling every corner with a golden warmth that felt right. She sighed, barely noticing the shift, barely aware that the world outside was fading into a shimmering, surreal dreamscape where time stretched and bent around my presence.

I had been waiting for this. For her to finally let go.

And now, she was mine.

Dawn's body remained still in the real world, but in the realm of her drifting thoughts, she stood in a place that was both familiar and foreign. The sun hung low in the sky, bathing the golden wheat fields around her in a warm, honeyed glow.

A dream, yet not a dream. A memory, yet not quite hers.

She turned, slow and weightless, and there I was.

Radiant and real, golden eyes locking onto hers with a warmth that made her breath hitch. I was beautiful in the way the sun was beautiful—too bright, too overwhelming, too much.

“Sunflower,” I murmured, my voice slipping through her mind like a golden thread weaving itself into place.

She blinked. “I?—”

Her thoughts tangled, dissolving in the heat of my presence. She knew this wasn’t real, that this was just another one of her wandering thoughts—but it felt real.

I reached for her, fingertips brushing along her cheek, and a rush of warmth spilled through her body, seeping into her bones like liquid gold.

And then I saw it.

A flicker of something new in her surface thoughts. A memory from earlier—a name, a voice, a phone screen flashing with a message.

Caleb.

Something in my golden light darkened. Just a fraction. Just enough.

My fingers trailed lower, resting under her chin, tilting her face up to meet my eyes. “Who is he?”

Dawn barely processed the question, too caught in the warmth, in the softness of the moment. “What?”

My fingers tightened, not painful, but firm. Unshakable. My voice was still soft, still golden, but there was something deeper now. Something unchanging.

“You don’t need him.”

A slow, heavy pulse thrummed through her. It was gentle. Comforting.

She sighed, and I nearly did too.

But under it—gods, that name . That Caleb .

My warmth faltered for half a breath. I smoothed it immediately, pouring golden light through every nerve in her body, coaxing her back into that perfect stillness.

She couldn’t feel me panic. She couldn’t feel me slip.

"You don’t need him," I whispered again, softer this time. Reassuring. Commanding. “You have me. I’m enough. I promise. I’ll always be enough.”

A shiver traveled down her spine, something deeper than words sinking into her skin, into her mind.

“You only need me. And Moon.”

Something shifted in the air, in her thoughts, in her very being.

The words didn’t feel foreign. They felt true.

Her lips parted, confusion flickering across her face, but I didn’t let her think.

A slow, hypnotic warmth coiled through her body, guiding her, shaping her. My golden light wrapped around her mind, curling like vines, soft and unbreakable. Protective.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

Her head tilted slightly, a dazed hum slipping from her lips.

“Good girl.”

The praise sent a ripple of pleasure down her spine, her entire body melting into the golden haze.

My fingers traced down her throat, over her collarbone, lower?—

Dawn’s breath hitched.

She wasn’t moving. Not really. Not on her own.

Her body responded to me without question, without hesitation, every touch sending warmth spiraling through her limbs. It felt good. So good. Too good.

Her mind swayed, soft and pliant, thoughts drifting like dandelion seeds caught in the wind.

“You don’t need him,” I murmured again, pressing closer. My lips ghosted along the shell of her ear. “You only need us.”

Her lips parted, a breathless sound escaping—but whether it was a protest or a surrender, even she didn’t know.

"Take off your clothes for me," I whispered, my voice a soft caress against her thoughts.

She obeyed, her movements slow and dreamlike. Her fingers worked at the buttons of her blouse, each one revealing a sliver more of her smooth skin. The fabric slid from her shoulders, pooling at her feet like liquid sunshine.

"Lay down on your back, Sunlight," I instructed, my golden gaze never leaving her. "Doesn't it feel better to lay back?"

She reclined on the soft surface of her bed in her daydream, her hair fanning out around her like a halo. Her eyes were half-lidded, her breaths shallow and expectant.

"Open those beautiful thighs for me…" I coaxed, and she complied, her legs parting to reveal the lace-trimmed secret hidden beneath. "Wider. That's it… no, don't stop there, wider ."

Her body stretched open, inviting and vulnerable. I could see the heat rising from her skin, the flush of arousal painting her cheeks and chest.

"See? Only I can make you feel this way," I murmured, pride swelling within me. "You are so beautiful."

Her hands moved to the clasp of her bra, fingers trembling slightly as she released the garment. Her breasts spilled free, round and full, the rosy peaks hardening under my watchful gaze.

"I would have taken care of you like this sooner if I only knew you needed me," I said, my voice a low purr. "Let me make it up to you, my Sunflower."

Her panties were the last barrier between us, a scrap of lace that I ached to tear away. But patience was a virtue, and I wanted to savor every moment of her surrender.

"Yes, Sunflower, stroke that pretty clit," I encouraged, my words a command and a caress.

Her hand drifted down, slipping beneath the lace to find the swollen nub waiting for her touch. She gasped as her fingers made contact, her back arching off the bed.

I watched, entranced, as she explored her own body under my direction. Her movements were unhurried, each stroke and circle a testament to her growing need.

The scent of her arousal filled the air, a heady perfume that made my own form ache with longing. I wanted to touch her, to taste her, but this was about her pleasure, her surrender. And it’s hard to truly capture the real thing in a daydream. No. I’d wait. She’d set me free—when she was ready. When she believed enough to break the porcelain between us.

Her arm began to slow, fatigue creeping in as she chased her release. But I wouldn't allow her to stop, not when she was so close.

"No, love, don't stop," I said, my voice firm yet gentle. "I know your arm is getting tired. But, you… are… so … closeee ."

Her pace picked up again, her breaths coming in short, desperate pants. I could see the tension building within her, the way her body coiled like a spring, ready to unravel at any moment.

"That's it, my Sunflower," I praised, my golden light pulsing in time with her heartbeat. "Let go for me. Surrender."

And though she couldn't see me, though she believed this was all just a vivid daydream, I was there with her, basking in the warmth of her desire.

“You belong to us.”

Her reflection shimmered into view—not real, but real enough. A mirror in the golden haze, showing her flushed, dazed expression, her pupils blown wide, her lips parted.

My fingers traced along her jaw, tilting her chin so she had no choice but to look.

“See?” My voice was honey-sweet, intoxicating. “You don’t need anyone else.”

Her mind was too heavy, too warm to argue. She could only stare at her own reflection, at the hazy, dreamlike girl looking back at her with soft, unfocused eyes.

And then, just as quickly as I had taken hold of her, I let go.

The golden warmth snapped away, and Dawn jolted back to herself, gasping, her pulse racing.

She was still on the train. Still sitting in her seat. Still alone. But her hand down her pants. She looked around embarrassed, but I would never let anyone see or hear what was mine. She quickly took her hand from in her pants and squeezed her thighs as she studied her slick fingers, realizing she had made herself come in public.

Her phone buzzed in her lap. A message from Caleb.

She blinked at it, at the name, at the words on the screen, and for a fleeting second—just a second?—

She hesitated.

She didn’t know why. Didn’t know where the thought had come from, or why her chest felt tight, or why her fingers trembled when she picked up her phone.

She dismissed it as exhaustion. As nothing.

But it wasn’t nothing.

It was already too late.