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“Haven’t I? How would you know?”
She swallows, and the contraction of her throat muscles is enough to make my gums tingle.
“Are you making fun of me?” she asks.
“I’m toying with you,” I say. “There’s a difference.”
“It doesn’t feel different.” Her face glows with embarrassment. She thinks I’m going to all this trouble to prove that I don’t want her. Because if I did, I’d have had her already, and the fact that I haven’t is proof of my indifference.
If she knew how badly I wanted her, she’d be petrified. Like a puppy dashing after a tiger, she’d catch me and immediately regret giving chase.
“If you don’t want me, you can just say so,” she says. “You don’t have to be an asshole about it.”
I cradle the back of her neck and press my lips to hers.
Mariah tenses up, startled, then launches herself fully into the kiss. Her palms glide up my chest. I rest my hand on her waist and draw her close to feel her heat. As my tongue breaches her lips, she lets out a whimper that has my astral body humming like a plucked cello string.
I pull back to give her a chance to breathe.
“I didn’t know ghosts could kiss like that,” she whispers, her fingers closing around my shirt like she’s afraid I’m going to slip away.
“I told you, I’m not a ghost.”
“What are you, then?”
The closest thing I can think of without telling her the truth is, “A demon.”
“You’re not a demon.” She smiles. “You’re my imaginary friend.”
“Some demons pretend to be your friend just to get close to you.”
I take her hand and guide her back toward the dining table.
“What if I’m simply lying to get closer to you?” I lift her onto the table, pushing plates and silverware aside. “What if my true intention is to pick you like a flower, rip out all your petals, and crush you beneath my heel?”
She gasps as I skim my fingers up her thighs, sliding her tee shirt higher.
“I think I might like to be crushed by you,” she says.
Her arms go around my neck as I kiss her again. Standing between her legs, I let her feel my erection against her thigh. Fortunately, I can get hard and even jack off here in the twilight realm. In the early years, it wasn’t a bad way to pass the time. But after a while, the futility of fucking myself became just another source of depression.
Watching Mariah in bed these past few nights brought those desires back with a vengeance. There was no tearing my eyes from her dancing fingers as they circled her sensitive clit. I couldn’t help imagining how it would feel to slide inside her wetness. I haven’t been able to think about much else since.
“You’ve done this before?” I ask her.
She shakes her head. “But I really want to.”
The fact that she’s a virgin doesn’t deter me. If anything, the thought of her dying before she’s had a chance to be thoroughly ravished would be the real tragedy.
I lift her shirt up and off, baring her to my gaze. Her breasts are round and plump, her nipples tight and rosy. Beautiful, just like the rest of her. I kiss my way down from her jaw to her chest, careful not to linger too long at her neck. She moans as I lick her nipple, threading her fingers through my hair.
All of this is real, and yet, it isn’t. Her pleasure is real. Her memory of my mouth on her breast and other places will be real, though her physical body remains untouched. Even so, she’ll no doubt wake up with a desperate need to finger herself tomorrow.
I give her other nipple equal attention, as my hands curl around the band of her underwear. She lifts her bottom so I can pull them off, then whimpers as I kneel on the floor in front of her. She knows what’s coming, even if she’s only ever read about it, or whispered about theother kind of kisswith her friends at slumber parties.
The anticipation in her gaze makes my cock throb. If someone were to look at my physical body right now, they’d find me sporting a colossal hard on.
I kiss a line from her knee to her inner thigh. When my lips finally reach her pussy, she whimpers. I spread her wide so I can see all of her. My God, it has been far too long since I’ve come face-to-face with a woman’s body, and hers is beyond luscious.
