CHAPTER 23: MY TELEKINESIS HAS A MIND OF ITS OWN, AND IT’S A PERVERT

The ceiling fan whirred in silent circles above Natalia’s bed. She’d been staring at it for what felt like hours, her eyes tracing the same path over and over while her mind replayed something else entirely.

Strong hands. Steady pressure. The weight of his body dipping her mattress.

Natalia rolled onto her stomach with a frustrated groan, burying her face in her pillow. It didn’t help. The memory of Satori’s touch burned through her skin, hotter and more insistent with each passing minute. Worse, the scent of him still lingered in her room.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered into her pillow.

But her body disagreed. The same heat that had pooled in her stomach during the massage was back, spreading lower, making her shift restlessly against the sheets.

She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The wooden floor was cool against her bare feet as she padded to her bedroom door. She turned the lock with a soft click that seemed to echo in the quiet darkness.

This was private.

Natalia returned to her bed, heart racing. She lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling fan again, watching its hypnotic rotation. She placed her hand on her stomach, just below her ribs where her shirt had ridden up.

"I’m just... tense," she whispered to the empty room. "It’s been a stressful week."

Her fingers began to move, tracing small circles on her skin. But they weren’t her fingers anymore. In her mind, they were his—calloused from all those workouts, strong and sure as they’d worked the knots from her back.

A shiver ran through her body.

"This isn’t happening," she said, but her hand was already sliding higher, up over her ribs, brushing against the underside of her breast. Her thumb grazed her nipple through the thin cotton of her sleep shirt, and it hardened instantly, a traitorous little peak of sensation.

Natalia bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut. Behind closed lids, the image of Satori loomed larger. Not the old Satori—the new one. The one with the intense eyes that seemed to see right through her. The one whose body had transformed from soft to hard in a matter of weeks.

Her hand moved to her neck, fingers splaying across her throat. In her mind, it was his hand there, not gentle but commanding, holding her in place while he leaned over her, his gaze pinning her as surely as his grip.

"Mmmph..."

This was wrong. So wrong. He was her stepbrother. The parasite. The leech. The boy she’d spent two years despising.

But he wasn’t that boy anymore, was he?

Her other hand slid down her stomach, past the waistband of her sleep shorts. Heat and wetness greeted her fingers, and Natalia gasped at how ready she was, how desperately her body was betraying her.

She began to move her fingers in small, tight circles, her hips shifting restlessly against the mattress. Her fantasy expanded, growing more vivid with each stroke.

Satori above her, his weight pressing her into the bed. His mouth at her ear, his voice rough as he told her exactly what he was going to do to her. Those newly muscled arms pinning her wrists above her head while his other hand—

"Ahhn..." The sound was louder this time, breaking the silence of her dark room.

The pen on her desk trembled, then rose an inch into the air. The book on her nightstand slid forward, teetering at the edge. Her Aspect was responding to her arousal, her telekinesis leaking out as her control frayed.

Natalia didn’t notice, too lost in the fantasy. Her fingers moved faster, her back arching off the bed. In her mind, Satori was touching her, his hands rough and possessive, his mouth hot on her neck.

"Is this what you want, Natalia?" his voice whispered in her ear. "Tell me you want it."

"I want it," she gasped into the empty room, her voice breaking.

Her phone, plugged in at her desk, began to vibrate, lifting off the surface. The lamp beside her bed flickered as the telekinetic energy pulsed through the room in waves that matched her racing heartbeat.

Natalia’s movements grew more frantic, her hips bucking against her hand. The fantasy shifted again. Now she was on top of him, her thighs straddling his hips, his hands gripping her waist hard enough to bruise as she rode him.

"Mmmph... fuck..." she moaned, her fingers sliding inside herself, her thumb maintaining pressure on the bundle of nerves that sent lightning up her spine.

The floating objects around her room began to orbit slowly, caught in the gravitational pull of her unleashed power. A water glass shook, then cracked. The pages of her open textbook fluttered wildly.

She was close, so close. Her body tensed, her toes curling, every muscle straining toward release. In her mind, Satori’s eyes bored into hers, his voice commanding: "Come for me, Natalia."

"Satori... fuck m—"

A bright, cheerful chime cut through the haze of pleasure. Her phone screen illuminated, casting blue light across the ceiling as it floated above her desk. EMI’s smiling contact photo filled the screen.

"FUCK!" Natalia shrieked, her concentration shattering.

Every floating object in the room clattered back down. The water glass shattered completely. Her laptop slammed shut. The lamp flickered one last time, then stabilized.

Her phone continued to chime insistently. She snatched it from the air, her body still throbbing with unsatisfied need. She took a deep breath, forcing her Aspect to calm, and hit the accept button.

"Hey, Emi!" Her voice came out an octave too high.

Emi’s face filled the screen, her blue hair bouncing with excitement. "Nat! I know it’s late but I was tracking the auction! Did you get it? Did you get the ring?"

Natalia cleared her throat, trying to steady her breathing. "Got it," she said, holding up her hand to show the Cryo-Lich Ring, its pale blue stone gleaming in the dim light.

"Ahhhh!" Emi squealed, clapping her hands together. "It looks even better than the pics! When are you gonna test it out?"

"Tomorrow," Natalia said, her mind still foggy with interrupted desire. "We’re heading to the training grounds in the morning."

Emi’s expression shifted from excitement to shock, her mouth forming a perfect ’O’.

"We? You and Satori? OMG, are you guys finally getting along?" Her voice rose to a pitch that made Natalia wince. "This is huge! First you do the Gate run together, now training? What’s next, matching Hunter outfits?"

"It’s not like that," Natalia protested, but her cheeks were burning. "He just... I need a spotter. That’s all."

"Mmhmm," Emi hummed, clearly unconvinced. "And your face is all red because...?"

"It’s hot in here," Natalia snapped.

"Sure it is," Emi giggled. "Well, I’m totally coming with! I have to see that ring in action." She leaned closer to the camera, her expression turning sly. "And I want to see this new version of Satori you keep talking about."

"I don’t keep talking

about him!"

"You mentioned him six times on our call yesterday. I counted."

"I did not!"

Emi’s grin widened. "You so did. Anyway, I’ll meet you guys at your house!" She blew a kiss at the camera. "Sweet dreams, Nat!"

The call ended before Natalia could argue further. She stared at the dark screen, mortification washing over her in waves.

Tomorrow. She had to face Satori tomorrow, after what she’d just done. After what she’d just imagined. And now Emi would be there too.

Natalia flopped back on her bed, throwing an arm over her face. Between her legs, the ache of unfulfilled desire still pulsed insistently. She rolled onto her side, curling into a ball, determined to ignore it.

"This isn’t happening," she whispered again, but the wetness between her thighs and the phantom touch of his hands on her skin argued otherwise.

The Cryo-Lich Ring glinted on her finger, catching what little light filtered through her curtains. It was supposed to be her ticket to greatness, her edge over the competition. Instead, all she could think about was how she’d react when she saw Satori in the morning.

Would he know? Could he tell what she’d been doing?

This was beyond humiliating. Beyond infuriating. She was Natalia Kuzmina, daughter of a B-Rank Hunter, top of her class, destined for greatness. She did not masturbate to fantasies of her loser stepbrother.

Except she had. Or tried to, at least.

Her phone buzzed with a text message. Natalia glanced at the screen, expecting more from Emi, but the name that appeared made her stomach flip.

Satori: Still need that spotter tomorrow?

Natalia stared at the message, her heart hammering against her ribs. Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard. She could cancel. Make up an excuse. Avoid him until these bizarre feelings subsided.

Instead, she typed: 8:30. Don’t be late.

His reply came instantly: Wouldn’t dream of it, Princess.

Princess. The nickname that had once been a mocking insult now sent a shiver down her spine.

Natalia pulled her blanket over her head, as if she could hide from her own desires. But even in the darkness, his eyes were waiting for her, watching with that infuriating smile.

Tomorrow was going to be torture.