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ZOË AWOKE IN THE EARLY HOURS AFTER A restless sleep spent tossing and turning and clutching at the pillows. Being in Grayson’s bed, alone, was not a good situation. Drawing her knees up toward her chest, she squeezed her thighs together. Arousal had her in its grip and she wondered why on earth she had agreed to sleep alone. The pillow that she had clutched to her face held a breath of his cologne. Being in his bed, where he slept, naked and alone, was surely making this raging lust worse—then there were the dreams.
Once again they’d been torrid, filled with images of bacchanalian sex. Thankfully the dreams hadn’t been as real as the vision she’d had earlier, that had amazed her. No, the dreams were about the forest. Again. In her dream, she’d weaved between the trees and come upon a dozen people, maybe more, gathered around a fire. Someone was playing a musical instrument and the group was divided into twos and threes. Images flashed through her mind. A man on another man’s back, buggering him. A woman sitting astride one man while she sucked the cock of another who stood next to her, holding his rigid cock out for her attentions.
A shiver ran through her. If she went there, to the forest, she would know why she saw these things, she felt sure of it. Something was calling to her, and she wasn’t afraid. Twenty-four hours had made a difference. She wanted to embrace this experience; it was her adventure. Smiling to herself, she contemplated the fact that she might have got a better night’s sleep alone in her own cottage, ghost and all. Then she remembered the vision she’d had in the bathroom the day before, and thought that perhaps wasn’t the case. That was Annabel’s doing, she was sure of it. But—oh, boy—had it ever been good. She’d wanted Grayson from the moment she’d seen him, and as soon as she’d walked into the cottage and Annabel had keyed into that, she’d given her the most intimate erotic show she could possibly wish for. Spooky as hell at the time, but now it felt like a gift.
Zoë couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. She rolled onto her back and thought about the way he’d looked as he took his cock in his hand and jerked off, nice and slow, totally male, totally hot. And it had been real, she knew that now. She hadn’t imagined it at all.
What she really wanted was to be in that shower with him, stroking his cock for him. She imagined it in her hands as her fingers stole into the heated spot between her thighs. The thought of soaping his erect cock and milking it off, nice and slow, while she studied his face, made her clit throb, and she thrummed it until she reached climax.
Sighing wistfully, she rolled closer to his pillow again, breathing in his scent. It wasn’t enough. She was still horny, and her sense of decorum had given up and checked out long ago. She sat up in the bed and watched the waning moonlight filter through the curtains. Was it simply because of the attraction she felt for Grayson, or was Annabel watching her now, egging her on?
Where do you end and I begin? she wondered, as she considered the ghost’s influence on her. She was ready to admit that things wouldn’t be this way if Annabel weren’t involved. On the one hand she felt she should thank her. On the other…
It wasn’t that she disliked the situation, in fact she welcomed it. It all just felt a bit strange. Rather like driving a car and yet having someone reach across occasionally and take the controls, forcing the speed up and dodging other vehicles.
It wasn’t as if she’d done anything that she wouldn’t have wanted to do anyway. It was more like her fantasies were attainable, because of Annabel’s influence. It was exciting and scary, and it made her feel edgy and dangerous. It was also hellishly confusing. Even as she stepped out of bed and walked to the top of the stairs, she looked down and wondered if she was dreaming now. And yet deep down she knew that she’d be standing here under her own ste
am if the situation had been like this and Annabel hadn’t been involved, because she wanted Grayson.
She was deeply attracted to him. He was down there and she knew he was interested in her. Okay, so his motivation for pursuing her was a bit muddy, because of the research angle. But she knew that if she went down there, they would have sex. There was no doubt in her, and that’s where the difference lay. The Zoë Daniels who’d arrived from London might have had a doubt. Her confidence may not have been quite so buoyant, and she might not have been willing to risk going down these stairs with the intention of finding him, being with him. But the Zoë Daniels who had come into contact with the mischievous spirit next door was all too willing.
“I welcome you, Annabel,” she whispered. As she did, a sense of female power rose steadily inside her, an erotic vapor that made her slink and purr and move her body like a harem dancer. Every bit of her thrummed with life and vitality. From her plump pussy to her womb and the heavy, peaked weight of her breasts, every inch of her felt opulent and feminine. She ran her hands over her body, reveling in its fluidity, its heat and energy.
I am woman.
She stepped down the narrow stairs and rounded the banister in the hallway. All was quiet. She tiptoed across to the sitting-room door and peeped inside.
Grayson was laid out at full stretch on the sofa, and he was asleep. His clothes were strewn on the floor nearby. Taking a slow, deep breath, she put one hand up against the door frame, and took in the sight. What a picture of male beauty it was, too.
He was naked, and Zoë’s hand went to her throat, her pulse pacing up as she admired his physical form. The faux fur throw that had been across the back of the sofa earlier that evening was now laying over his hips and covered most of one leg. The other long muscular thigh was bare. The room was softly lit by lamplight and a book trailed from his hand to the floor, as if he’d been reading when he fell asleep. In repose, his features looked almost classical, much less rugged than when animated. The long, old-fashioned sofa seemed to frame him to perfection. If she hadn’t already been in a state of arousal, looking at him lying there like that would have had her there in an instant. As it was, the nagging ache inside her had turned into a roaring inferno of expectation.
She stepped closer, close enough to see the dusting of dark blond hair that traced a symmetrical line from his chest down to his navel and beyond, where it disappeared under the throw. Her fingers itched to pull the cover back, so that she could see his cock and admire it while he slept. The bulk of it made a shape in the fur, and the thought of running her hand over that fur-covered outline sent a sensuous shiver deep within her core. On their first encounter, the night before, circumstances hadn’t allowed her time to admire the view, and now her curiosity and desire were conspiring to get the better of her.
Leaning forward, she went to lift the throw.
His hand closed around her wrist, locking in her place. “Something I can do for you, Zoë?”
She gasped, startled, and yet secretly thrilled. His eyes were narrowed as he looked at her, and she saw concern there. After he’d studied her for a long moment, that concern morphed into humor, and passion. Had he even been asleep? Perhaps he’d heard her getting up and was waiting for her to appear.
As if to confirm that suspicion, he pulled her closer still. Her body tightened, the knowledge that she was going to get what she needed firing her up even more.
“Yes, there is something…” She was a mere two inches from his lips, and she closed the gap, kissing him, her hand closing over that fur-covered erection even while he held her wrist.
His cock grew and lifted under her hand, poking up from beneath the cover, as if eager to be held. Her hand moved, closing around the hot, velvety skin of his shaft.
Breaking the kiss, he inhaled a ragged breath, his hand tightening on her wrist.
Looking into his eyes and seeing the reciprocated desire that shone there, Zoë knew that something had been let loose in her. It was as if every barrier had been stripped away and she was free to climb on and enjoy. He shifted, giving her room to kneel either side of his hips. She climbed over his thighs, one knee either side of him, and threw her head back, reveling in the sense of liberation she experienced as she stroked the upright cock in front of her.
His hands roved over the outline of her hips, and then reached up and ran his fingertips over her nipples. Although he barely touched them, her breasts burned from her nipples to her center.
He watched her as she explored his cock, and his mouth moved in a slow smile. “Do you think we can make it to the bed?”
She laughed breathily, her heart pounding, and then shook her head. “No.”
The intimate connection he’d made with her felt special and it made her sure. “I hope you have a condom.”
He reached out across the floor and snatched at his jeans, pulling them closer. With one hand, he held them up, the other rooted around in the pocket.
