Page 17 of My Ghost

“Hands above your head,” he orders as he releases my wrists, and I obey, moaning when he trails hot kisses between my breasts.He slides his hand to my back to the zipper of my dress.He smoothly pulls it down and slips the fabric over my head, leaving me breathless beneath him in just my bra and soaked panties.He draws in a sharp breath, his gaze dark and devouring as it burns over my skin.“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

He rips my bra from me in one movement and before I have time to register the sound of fabric shredding, his mouth is on my nipple and I arch upward with a loud moan.He swirls his tongue around a nipple and strokes me through the thin lace of my panties.

“Stop teasing me and fuck me already.”I moan, but he merely chuckles, taking his sweet time with one pebbled nipple then with the other.And I am about to combust.He trails farther south, kissing a burning path toward my panties.Then he also rips those away and I moan.I have never been this aroused.My blood is rushing in my ears and my breath comes out in pants and moans.It is like I am igniting from within and only he can alleviate the want he sparked.

Suddenly, his mouth is on my pussy and my mind glitches.He licks at my slit, then swirls his tongue around my clit before he spears it inside me.He nips, licks, teases mercilessly until I am a writhing mess.His low voice vibrates against my core, reverberating through my body, and traveling over my feverish skin like an inferno.He flattens his tongue and inserts one finger in me, then two and suddenly it is all too much.

“Oh God… Please—”

And I shatter.My orgasm crashes through me, sudden and explosive.I hear myself shouting his name while my body convulses against his mouth.He doesn’t cease, though.He licks hungrily until I beg him to stop, unable to take anymore.

When I look down, I find his eyes on me and his mouth curves up in a predatory smile.He hoists himself up and crawls up over my body like a panther over prey.I lean up on one elbow and reach down to finish undressing him.His pants are soon discarded, as are his boxer briefs, and he is naked in front of me in all his glory.Even in the dim lighting, I can see that his cock is big.Like, really big, and I gulp from the arousal gathering between my thighs again.I take him in my hand and pump up and down, reveling in the velvety feel of his hot skin over steel.He leans down and groans against my neck.

“Fuck, you’re killing me.”

He takes a condom out of his wallet and rips the packaging open with his teeth.He sheaths himself while I watch every movement, transfixed.Then he crashes his mouth over mine and kisses me hungrily while he positions himself at my opening.His kiss becomes more forceful as he pushes into me in one punishing thrust and I cry out from the feeling of him stretching me, bottoming out inside me.His kiss is voracious as he pounds inside me, his hips pumping in and out in a wild rhythm that has me drawing near the edge again, so soon after my first orgasm.Our bodies collide with loud, lewd noises and his grunts mingle with my moans.My arousal is overpowering, making me lightheaded and also acutely aware of every little detail.Of his hot palms on my skin, his ragged breath against my lips, of him inside me.We both spiral closer and closer.

He is beginning to lose control, but he reaches down and rubs circles over my clit with his thumb.My mind blacks out again.

I hear his voice in a haze, harsh and commanding.“Come for me, now!”And I explode in a hoarse cry.Then he comes with a roar, “Fuuuck.”His cock twitches inside me as I continue to pulse around him, his groans a loud rumbling against my chest.We ride our orgasms out until the last tremor subsides and hold each other until our breathing returns to normal.

He lifts his face, hovering over me, and for a split second there is something raw in his expression, like awe.But maybe I am imagining it, because the next second his gaze shutters.

Without a word, he rises and disappears into the bathroom.I hear the soft splash of water before he returns, silent, holding a damp cloth.He kneels beside me and begins to gently clean between my thighs.His movements are careful, methodical…almost tender.And that tenderness nearly undoes me.

Then his eyes find mine, and the moment fractures.

“This can’t happen again.This is a…complication we can’t afford.”

My heart stutters, but I keep my face still.He is right, this is messy and complicated—he is working for the Mafia and I don’t need this kind of complication in my life.It is for the best, I tell myself.

I manage a nod, even as something cracks deep inside me.“Okay.”

He isn’t done.“And it never happened.We clear?”

I nod again.What else can I do?He is right, we are not meant to be, not that there is anyusanyway.This was nothing, simply two lonely people acting out on an attraction.I put on a brave façade and smile.“Crystal clear.But since we’re here, why don’t we enjoy tonight?No strings attached, and tomorrow we’re back to being strangers.”

His eyes blaze with darkness and hunger, and I’m transfixed by their intensity.He seems to waver for a beat, jaw clenched and eyes burning.Then he leans down and crashes his mouth over mine in a scorching kiss.

In the morning he is gone and I wake up alone in the guest room.

Chapter Eleven

Erin

I wake with a groan and sit up slowly on the sofa, my neck stiff and my limbs heavy.The glaring glow of dawn filters through the tall windows, casting long, golden streaks across the floor.My eyes are bleary, my throat dry, and for a moment, I sit there staring blankly at the city skyline.

‘It never happened.We clear?’

The ache in my chest feels too familiar, like an old wound ripped open.I try to breathe through it, but it burns too much, choking me up.

I know this feeling well…rejection.It had been my constant companion during my childhood, and I should be used to it by now.But I am not, and everything resurfaces.The feeling pulls me under like a wave of fire scorching my lungs, suffocating me from within.

My mind drifts, unbidden, to those long-ago days at the children’s home.The memory is cruel and piercing as it flits through my mind.I am sitting on the edge of a worn couch, legs swinging nervously, dressed in my best clothes, with so much hope in my heart I am sure I will be sick.My hands are shaking but I hide them in the folds of my dress as I sit there, waiting.Waiting for someone, anyone, to see me, to choose me.And every time they left with someone else, I told myself it didn’t matter.That next time would be different.But it never was, they never chose me.

‘You have to understand, Erin.People want to adopt younger children.They have less emotional baggage.’

Foster families came and went, each one a temporary pit stop on a road that never led to a place called home.I learned early how to hide my feelings, how to read a room, how to pack my things fast and not ask questions.I was the polite, smiling girl.I was easy to overlook and easier to forget.