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"Simon?"
You come out from behind him, surprising him a bit.
"Can't say I was expecting to see you here. I thought I saw Soap but…" your words falter, not really knowing where you're getting at.
"Who are you here with?" he asks, not wanting to ask 'what are you here for?' in case it sounded rude.
"A group of friends. You… never really met them," you play with your hair, looking at your split ends like it's your first time seeing them. "It's kind of shit though. Bunch of new people I don't know joined." You look around at all the people in the club then back at him. "You look like you're having fun too."
"What gave it away?"
"Well, the fact that you're sitting alone like a loser. You can't even drink." He shrugs, looking at the full glass he's had since he arrived. You get closer, leaning against the bar. "How do they even let you in with the mask?"
"Soap knows a guy. They do the drinking, I do the paying. Makes everyone happy."
"Never seen so much joy on your face." You can tell by the way his eyes crinkle that your sarcasm got a smile out of him.
"You're not drinking either," he observes, looking down at you empty hands – and maybe something else along the way.
"That's 'cause I was leaving."
"That early?"
"Oh come on." You roll your eyes at his surprised tone. "You probably want to do the same."
"You got me there."
"Can't find my fucking friends though." You turn around, scanning the room. Ghost's eyes fall to the open back of your dress, observing the way the white silk fabric drapes over your hips.
You turn back to Ghost, a bit startled when you catch him already looking at you. "I'll just call them when I get home." You check your phone. "I just have 10 minutes to kill before my Uber arrives."
"Don't bother with that, I can take you home." Ghost regrets his words the second they leave his mouth.
"Simon, you don't have to…" What you're trying to say is that he shouldn't. He can tell he's making a terrible choice, but with the way your lips mold around his name, he's not sure he wants to be reasonable.
"Come on. You're giving me an excuse to get the fuck out of here." He tries to convince himself that it's the only reason.
Before you can protest, he stands up. Your eyes follow the movements. While he was at eye level when seated on the barstool, he now towers over you. On top of what, he is now much much closer.
"Who's gonna pay for you're friends' drinks?" you say, trying to shake off the sudden tension with humor.
"Who cares," he answers, a bit too quick and too serious. His eyes are burning into yours, his keys already in hand.
You bite the inside of your cheek. God this is a terrible idea. "Fine then. I'll cancel the ride."
You get out of the club, and while Ghost leads you to his car, your thoughts are screaming at you to turn around and act like you never ran into him.
He opens the passenger side for you to get in. You suddenly feel trapped as he walks around the car to get into the driver's seat. You fidget with your fingers, looking around the familiar yet foreign inside of his car.
You hear Ghost's fingers drum against the steering wheel and notice he's looking at you. "Your belt." You snap out of your daydreaming and fasten your seat belt, mumbling an apology.
The car finally starts. The drive is quiet for a few minutes before Ghost starts tapping his fingers again. He can tell you have something on your mind. And you know he knows.
You take in a breath through your mouth. "Are we going to address the elephant in the room?"
"You mean the fucking zoo?" He says, not at all surprised by your question.
"Precisely."
"What is there left to say?" His eyes dart to you. Nothing.
Back when he left, he didn't have to give you a reason. You'd already had the argument many times and there was nothing more you could say to convince him. Matter of fact, you knew it could happen any day. Ghost was a ticking time bomb. It was gut wrenching knowing there was nothing you could do that wouldn't just be a temporary fix. He could only take so much love before he started feeling like a burden. How can you handle someone's panic attacks if they also freak out when you help them 'too much' ? If you being there for him meant he had new reasons to feel bad, then it probably wasn't worth it. Still, every time he pushed you away, telling you it wasn't your job, you wanted to scream at him. What could you tell this man to make him understand that you loved him ? That he was as good to you as you were to him ? He wouldn't hear shit.
Ghost can see the gears turning in your head. "Sorry for being a dickhead."
You look at him and he looks away, focusing on the road. You have nothing to say to that. You observe the man next to you. His eyes are all you can see, but when he's not looking at you it's hard to pick up any emotion.
Ghost stops at a red light and glances at you, expecting to see you upset. You hold eye contact, no animosity in your face whatsoever, unashamed of the fact that you've been staring at him for a little while now.
"What is it?" he sighs, shying away from your scrutinous gaze.
"Can you take the mask off? Or have I lost that privilege?"
His eyes flicker away. You're the only person to have ever seen him without it, exposed and vulnerable, and though it wouldn't be the first time, the same emotions he'd felt back then come rushing back. His fingers drum against the steering wheel.
You don't want to push him. But the possibility that he might not feel comfortable around you anymore tears you apart. The light still hasn't turned green, denying him an excuse to ignore your request.
His eyes finally come back to you and he makes up his mind, pulling the mask off. "Happy?" he mumbles.
You can't stop a light, genuine smile from forming onto your face. The movement draws his eyes to your lips. You can almost see him fight to look back at the road as the car starts again.
"Your hair's longer," you say, studying the way the dirty blonde strands frame his face, curling in around his cheekbones.
"Yeah. That happens when time passes." His whole attention is now on the road.
You leave him alone for now, slipping back into silence. With his mask off, you can see all the tension in his face. You study his face like it's your first time seeing him – from the loose hairs messily falling onto his face, to his icy gaze emphasized by the tension ridden line of his eyebrows. Those are features you can guess even when he's wearing his mask. But then, there is the bottom of his face. Your eyes fall to his nose, taking in every edge – you can tell he's broken it more than once. And then come his lips, surprisingly plump and defined. Without you around to forcefully put chapstick on him, they've gone back to being chapped, roughed by all of his nervous biting. That doesn't take away how pink and pretty they are.
Your first kiss replays in your head. He'd lifted his mask just above his nose, granting you access. You'd expected the sharp edge of his jaw, strong and masculine, covered in a light blonde stubble. But his tender mouth came as a surprise. You try to drown out your thoughts – the sight is accompanied by memories of the sensation, memories you're not sure you want to forget…
The car takes a familiar turn, and before you know it you're parked in front of your apartment building. Ghost takes his hands off the wheel and rests them on his thighs, tapping his fingers. He is still looking through the windshield, waiting for you to say or do something.
"Wanna come up?"
He groans, letting his head fall back against the headrest. "Don't be stupid."
"Ginger misses you."
He looks your way, crossing his arms. "Yeah? He told you that?" He chuckles in disbelief.
Ghost sighs as he rubs a hand down his face.
"Fine," he finally folds, "I'll say hi to the bloody cat."
He gets out of the car and walks around it to open your door. The car is high and you're not exactly dressed to jump down. You grab his arm to help yourself down, missing the way his breath catches in his throat. The muscle under your fingers is firm, but you didn't forget how soft it would become when you laid onto it.
You try to ignore all the signals your mind and your body are sending you. Nostalgia mixing with new found desires. The worst part is knowing what he could give you but not being able to get it. You shake the thoughts away.
The both of you get into the elevator. His large body thumps against the mirror as he leans back against it. You just stand there, not really knowing what to say, unaware that Ghost just came to the realization that the open back of your dress implies that you're not wearing a bra.
The thought drives him mad. He pictures himself stepping forward, pressing against you, close enough to whisper something in your ear, something he knows for sure will make you shiver. Then his hands would grab your hips, sliding inwards, towards the exposed skin, fingers pressing into the dimples on your lower back. There was probably enough space for his hands to slide under the fabric, gripping your soft waist as he kissed your neck, going lower and lower… and when he couldn't stand it anymore, he'd slide the ridiculously small straps holding the top of the dress down your shoulder, concealing his dark intentions by laying gentle kisses along the way.
The doors finally open and you step out, followed by Ghost. The elevator ride was just long enough for his thoughts to go wild, but too short to act on them. Something in his mind has shifted, and there is no coming down from it. Even if he doesn't do anything, the thoughts will remain there, haunting him, eventually pushing him to commit that mistake. Should he just give in then? Either way he'd come back to you. Even more frustrated. Even less in control. Wouldn't it be better for the both of you to get rid of that tension before it turns into something destructive? He should have left as soon as you approached him. At least when you're away the temptation is only in his mind. Now that it is just the two of you… that you're within arm's reach… fuck.
Ghost barely registers that you're walking into your apartment, too lost in his thoughts. He is dragged out of it by something rubbing against his leg. "See how happy he is to see you?" You close the door and take off your shoes. When you turn back the cat is already in his arms.
"What do you feed him? He's fat as fuck," Ghost looks up at you, biting back a smile. He's teasing, you've seen that look many times, and it was often followed by a giggly make out session. You try not to get distracted by the way his teeth dig into his lips, bringing out their pinkish tint.
"He's an emotional eater." You walk into the open kitchen, seemingly looking for something.
"Right." Ghost lets the cat down.
He opens his mouth to speak: he's seen the cat, now he should leave. You on the other hand have other plans. You walk back into the living room and hand him a tub of ice cream. You don't give him time to react and sit down on the couch. Ghost doesn't know what to do with himself and follows without further questions.
"Since when do you like mint chocolate chip?" He raises an eyebrow. Did you have his favorite flavor of ice cream laying around just in case?
"I don't. Still think that shit's disgusting." As if you can read his thoughts, you add, "My mom visited and she did the groceries." He nods. You turn on the TV to fill in the silence.
What's next…? You don't want him to leave. Not again. But at the same time, nothing justifies keeping him here. Well… not exactly nothing. Nothing reasonable.
You feel heat rising to your cheeks. All of a sudden you're like a teenager being alone with her crush for the first time. You look at the TV like it's the most interesting thing you've seen in years. You don't want him to think you're all about him.
Ghost on the other hand has thrown shame out of the window the second he caught the way your lips wrapped around the spoon. He doesn't even see the act as obscene or alluring; it is the casualness of your beauty he indulges in.
No one could be oblivious enough not to sense the man's heavy gaze on them, still, you pretend to be unphased.
Ghost gets up to dispose of his ice cream. Your eyes remain glued to the TV.
You start feeling icky. The whole situation is way too awkward. This is bad.
As you're rethinking everything, you don't notice Ghost's approaching footsteps, nor the way they stop right behind you.
A strong and warm hand lands on your shoulder. Ghost leans over the couch, towering over you. You nearly choke on your food when you feel his breath on your neck. You freeze. Your hands – still holding the ice cream and a spoon – slowly come down to rest on your lap. Though you're not facing the man, you've given him your whole attention.
"What's this all about?" His voice is husky. You can hear the restraint in it. His tone wants to appear playful, teasing, but intimidation shines through. Your breath catches in your throat.
Ghost's hand leaves your shoulder to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, as if that'll make you hear him better. "Come on sugar, I asked you a question." The pet name makes your stomach flutter.
Ghost sighs. His hand slides downwards, getting a gentle hold of your hair, enough to turn your face towards him. "Hm?" he inquires again, raising his eyebrows. His eyes bore into yours, flush rising in your cheeks until you simply can't hold his gaze anymore and look away.
Ghost stands back up, pulling his hand away with him. The warmth of his body and his hand on you replaced with cold air hitting your exposed skin. The ice cream tub you're still holding doesn't help, though the freezing wet sensation in your hand keeps you grounded; you're sure what's happening is real.
"Maybe I should leave. Since you don't want to talk to me," he says, impassive. "Do you want me to leave?" His voice is low.
You put the ice cream down on the table. His first question was pretty open-ended, but with this one, he is cornering you. You both know the answer. He just wants to hear you say it.
"Of course not Simon."
Ghost walks around the couch, like a predator circling his prey. He stops before you, the TV disappearing behind his body, giving you nothing else to look at but him. He grabs your chin, tilting your head back so that you're looking at each other.
"It'd be easier if you did…" He cups your jaw, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You feel small under him. "Have I told you how pretty you are tonight?"
"…No," you stutter out as his thumb starts caressing your bottom lip, distracting you.
"Well I'm a fucking coward 'cause you're stupid gorgeous." He looks you up and down. "Bet dudes were fighting over who'd get to take you home."
"They can fight all they want. I don't want them."
"Is that right ?" He smirks. "Who do you want then?" He presents his thumb between your lips in a silent request. You comply, opening your mouth to let the finger slide in, welcoming it with your tongue. "Such a good girl," he says under his breath, almost in disbelief.
You moan at the praise, looking up at him through your eyelashes. That's his last straw. "Let's go to your room."
He may be a jerk but you deserve better than to get fucked on the couch after months of radio silence.
The second you enter your bedroom, his hands are on you. You're trapped between his body and the door. He feels warm against your back.
"You have such a pretty face… but with a dress like that," his finger traces your spine, making you shiver, "I don't know where to look."
"Take it off then. You'll have plenty more to look at."
He chuckles against your shoulders, his lips brushing against your skin. "Didn't remember you being so impatient…" His words are slightly muffled as he keeps kissing your body.
"It's been four months, I think–"
He cuts you. "I think a few more minutes won't kill you."
You seriously doubt his words. Having him so close yet being denied what you're craving… After what seems like an eternity, he slips the straps of your dress off, quickly discarding the item of clothing. You're left in your panties, shivering as cold air hits your exposed body. Ghost notices it.
"Don't worry baby, I'll warm you up." He turns you around, grabbing your hands to slide them under his shirt. You run your hands up his stomach, feeling the soft curves of his abs. His job requires him to be strong and in shape, but there's no way he could stay lean. You love it. The way the flesh gives in under your fingers reminds you of how you used to grab him, sometimes digging your nails into his skin when something felt too good. Based on the look in his eyes, Ghost seems to remember it too.
"Can I kiss you?" The question takes you off guard. He got you practically naked yet he's asking if he can kiss you? You don't waste more time questioning the logistics of it and nod, giving him permission.
One of his arms curls around you waist, pulling you on your toes as he leans down to reach your face. His lips crash against yours and he kisses you like a man starved. His mouth is hot and heavy against yours. His other hand sneaks up, holding the nape of your neck to pull you closer. You kiss until you're both gasping for air. And even then, Ghost drags his wet lips to your cheek as you catch your breath, not wanting to pull away completely.
His hands land on the back of your thighs and he pulls you up. You wrap your legs against his waist, steadying yourself on his stronger shoulders as he goes to put you down on the bed. As soon as your back hits the mattress, he dives back in for another kiss. His hands caress your ribs, your waist, your thighs, fingers hooking into your panties like he's about to rip them. He adjusts his hips and you moan, his clothed bulge pressing against you. If he didn't have his pants on, he'd be able to tell how wet you are even through your underwear.
Your mind is foggy and it gets even harder to think when his mouth lands on your breasts. He teases you at first, licking the curve of you underboob as you arch towards him, trying to get his mouth where you really want it. After a bit he obliges, flicking your nipple with his tongue as his hand mirrors the motions on the other side.
He works his tongue relentlessly, doing whatever gets the most noise out of you. With a last pinch to your nipple, his kisses trails down, leaving wet spots along your stomach.
"Wait," you tug on his hair to get his attention, "take off your shirt."
Ghost sits up, pulling the shirt over his head in one swift motion. He leans in for another kiss, pressing your bare chests together. Now that you can touch him, your hands are everywhere, feeling the muscle in his arms, stroking his sides, pressing on his lower back for more friction between your legs. Ghost seems to get the message, grinding his hips against yours with more intent. The rough fabric of his pants adds to the friction, you can feel everything through your panties. You get lost in the sensation – you're so worked up you could cum just from that.
However, Ghost has something else in mind. He pulls back, getting a whine from you at the loss of contact. Quickly, his hand fills the space between your legs, cupping your clothed pussy. Ghost frowns a bit then looks down, noticing the wet patch under his palm.
"Christ. You're fucking soaked." You open your mouth to speak. Two of his fingers rub your slit, pressing onto your clit, turning whatever you were about to say into a low moan. His eyes are glued to the way the wet fabric molds around you, not leaving much to the imagination. "Fuck."
This time he doesn't bother asking, pulling your panties to the side. The way your hips are chasing his hand says more than your mouth ever could. He loves seeing you desperate under him, knowing that he has barely done anything yet he makes you feel so good all you can do is ask for more.
Ghost sits back on his heels, holding you open with a hand under your knee. His fingers ghost over your outer lips, almost tickling you. You let out a frustrated moan, chasing friction. He gives your clit a little smack, causing you to yelp, "Behave."
He looks up at your face as he finally slides a finger inside of you. Your eyelids flutter and you let out a satisfied hum.
He repositions your leg, propping it up on his shoulder. The back of your thigh is pressed against his crotch. You notice the way his hips shift closer, seeking some kind of relief. You catch a glimpse of his gaze on you – his pupils are blown, betraying that the wait he's put you through also affected him. You don't have time to tease him about it, his other hand coming around your leg to lay flat on your lower stomach, thumb pressing onto your clit as his finger keeps moving inside of you. The double stimulation has you arching off the bed, moaning into open air. Ghost angles his hand, curling his finger to reach that's sweet spot inside of you. Shortly after he adds a second finger, pumping into you with more insistence. Months of being touch starved have made you incredibly sensitive – no matter how many times you masturbated, nothing felt quite as good as him. The slight roughness of his palms drives you crazy. You could tell his hand apart hundreds. He just feels so right.
You get close embarrassingly fast, your body randomly contracting and relaxing. You feel that familiar tension building between your hips, though everything feels unusually tight. You don't have time to stress it, your orgasm washing over you, sending your head flying back into the pillows. Your body still twitches as you come down from it, hands coming up to cover your face as you're still letting out pathetic whimpers. Ghost is nice enough to move the hand that's on your clit, not wanting to overstimulate you just yet.
"Holy shit." He says it under his breath but you hear him.
"What is it?" you manage to stutter out, still muffled by your hands. Ghost doesn't answer. You push yourself up on your elbows, looking at him. What you see makes your face heat up in embarrassment, eyes going wide. Ghost's chest glistens with something you know is not sweat, and the front of his pants is quite literally soaked. "Oh God. I'm so sorry," you can't even look him in the eye.
"Don't be. That was pretty fucking hot," he kisses your ankles, his free hand stroking your thigh. "I should be sorry I didn't make you do that sooner." His tone is teasing but you suspect he might be serious.
His fingers finally pull out of you, making you sigh at the sudden emptiness. You watch as he brings them up to his mouth, licking off the evidence of your arousal. That's not new nor surprising – he'd usually make you suck them when he wasn't feeling selfish – but what just happened makes the act feel extra filthy.
He catches your bashful expression. "Relax, it's just a bit of water," he smirks, amused by your embarrassment. He doesn't understand how you can be so opposed to something that almost made him cream his fucking pants.
Before you can get in your head about it, he pulls you towards the edge of the bed, kneeling on the floor before you. Your panties are off in a beat, wet and ruined anyways. Without a warning, his mouth is on you, strong calloused hands gripping the back of your thighs to hold you in place. Your hand flies to grip his hair, hips accidentally bucking against his face. He groans in response, the vibration adding to your pleasure. You barely control the noises spilling out of your mouth, aborted sentences where all he can make out is his name.
After one particularly needy 'Simon!', one of his hands leaves your thigh, reaching down to palm himself through his pants. You don't have to look to understand what he's doing, more and more moans reverberating against your sensitive pussy.
Ghost is painfully hard. His erection strains against the rough texture of his jeans, and his dick twitches as he feels the damp fabric under his palm. He can't remember a time he's felt this desperately horny.
He keeps working his mouth, alternating between pressing the flat of his tongue against you and flicking your clit with the tip of it. You start to get lost in the sensation, a second orgasm starting to build up.
Ghost's moans get louder and louder until he pauses, resting his head onto your thigh.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck…" The hand that was on him comes back to your thigh, gripping hard as his brows furrow, trying to push away the sensation that just rose in his spine. He pants, breath hot against your skin, he has to fuck you soon or he might just make a fool of himself. You chuckle, scratching his scalp as he comes back to his senses. He needs to focus on you first.
Without the distraction, Ghost is quick to make you cum a second time, thighs tensing around his head as your entire body curls in before limply falling back against the mattress.
Your eyes are unfocused as you watch Ghost pull up to his feet, fumbling with the buckle of his belt. His hands are slightly shaky, impatient.
"Can't wait for you to fuck me."
The belt drops to the floor carelessly, quickly followed by his pants and underwear. He is back on top of you, holding your knee against your chest as his other hand comes down to line up his cock with your entrance. "You're still on the pill?"
"Yeah," you answer in a breath.
Ghost doesn't waste more time, pushing into you in a slow thrust that makes both of you gasp. His hips meet the back of your thighs as he bottoms out, his movement facilitated by how wet you are from your previous orgasms.
Ghost tries not to focus too much on how warm and soft you are around him, starting to thrust into you like it's his job. His strokes are slow, deep and hard, pulling a moan out of you every time his hips meet the back of your thighs. You're very expressive under him, sensitivity heightened by the slight overstimulation. Ghost isn't quiet either, moans and curses spilling out of his mouth with every thrust.
You spread your legs further, nudging him to come closer. Your hands reach up, nails digging into his shoulders as he holds himself up with a hand on each side of your body. You push the hair out of his face and pull him into a kiss. It doesn't last long, Ghost pulling away with a low moan as you clench around him. All the tension from earlier has disappeared, his expression is vulnerable – his brows are furrowed, half lidded eyes watching where you two connect, and his lips are slightly parted, letting out noises that sound like music to your ears.
"You're so pretty like that," you end up telling him, some words cut off by moans you can't hold back.
"What?" He chuckles, taken off guard. Your hands slide up, gently caressing his face.
"I mean it." Ghost's blush intensifies at the praise.
He grabs one of your hands, kissing your wrist before placing it on your lower stomach. "Touch yourself for me." You chuckle softly at his attempt to change the subject but still do what you're told. His pace quickens, taking away your ability to speak as your moans become more high pitched.
Your nails dig into his skin, causing him to grunt. Your eyelids flutter shut, heat pooling in your stomach as another orgasm approaches.
"There you go…" He purrs, feeling you get tighter around him.
"Simon– fuck! please…"
"Use your words darling," his hand comes up to rest on your neck, not applying pressure yet.
"Please, I want to cum, I'm s--so close" you whine, voice breaking as he keeps hitting that sweet spot inside of you. Your fingers stutter over your clit, unable to tell if it's too much or not enough.
Ghost's hand clenches around your throat, making your eyes close for good as you turn into a whimpering mess. You let out incoherent sentences punctuated by his name, legs shaking as the orgasm hits you.
Ghost's pace turns punishing as he chases his own climax. You're still trembling under him, the stimulation never stopping. Your nails dig into his back and his hips stutter. He lowers down on his elbows, pressing kisses to your chest in between moans.
"Fuck, 'm gonna cum," he buries his face in your neck. "Can I– inside? That okay?"
You hum in response and feel him lose his rhythm, pressing into you as deep as possible as he cums with a deep moan.
Your hands stroke his back soothingly as he relaxes, trapping you in a comforting embrace. You feel his breaths calm down against your neck, both of you appreciating the intimacy of the moment.
After a bit, Ghost slides an arm under your back and flips you so that you're on top of him. "Don't wanna ruin your nice sheets."
You giggle, sitting up with his dick still inside of you. "Too bad. I wanted to make a mess," you reply, grinding back against him.
Ghost lets out an exhale before biting his bottom lip. You slowly raise up on your knees, both of you watching as his dick slides out of you. His member heavily falls back against his abs, cum starting to drip from your pussy onto his stomach. Though he just came, Ghost's dick twitches at the sight. His fingers come to fill the emptiness inside of you, coating them in his own cum. You rock against them for a moment before grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand up to your face. He watches as you lick his fingers clean, holding eye contact.
"I love your hands," you say as you keep licking and kissing his fingers, "but right now I'd rather have your dick in my mouth."
"God," Ghost lets out a genuine laugh. "What am I gonna do with you?"
Now that he's released a bit of tension, Ghost feels less blinded by lust. You're too cum drunk to think about that but the post orgasm clarity reminds him that this isn't sex without consequences. The last thing he wants is for you to regret this. But then again, what's next? He can't see himself leaving you again. He simply can't do that to you. The first time, he thought he was doing you a favor by taking the trash out of your life. But you seemed to disagree with him. Still, he didn't understand why anyone would willingly take on his problems on top of their own.
"Earth to Simon," you say right next to his ear before laying a kiss on his jaw. You kiss your way down to his chest, leaving a hickey on his collarbone just because you can.
"You have really nice boobs," you say as you lay on his chest.
"Thanks. That makes two of us."
You stay there for a bit, listening to his heartbeat. "You make a great pillow," you say, tiredness showing in your voice.
"We can stay like that if you want."
"Tempting but I'd rather you fuck me to sleep."
Once again, Ghost didn't expect such crude words to come out of your mouth in the middle of a sweet moment. He smiles as you crawl back to rest between his legs. You take a minute to lick his stomach clean as your finger comes down to draw circles on his hip bone. You tease him, hand sliding towards the inside of his thigh, gently scratching, while you keep kissing around his navel. You ignore the flushed head of his cock, mere inches away from your mouth, earning a frustrated sigh from Ghost.
After what feels like an eternity, you grab his dick – already hard from the teasing – and start stroking with a slow tortuous pace. You rest your head on his hip as you watch the way your fingers can barely close around him. You change the pace a bit, twisting your hand around his tip with every stroke, getting a shaky exhale out of Ghost each time.
You rise up, placing your face right above his cock. You look at him as you part your lips, just breathing onto him. Ghost chuckles, head falling back against the bed as he rests an arm over his eyes. "Fuck you."
You smile but decide to stop teasing him, licking his shaft all the way to the tip before wrapping your lips around his dick. His reaction is immediate, a low hum escaping him as his stomach goes taut.
Your tongue circles his head, teasing the underside of his cock. His breath catches in his throat when you brush against his slit, tasting a hint of precum. You relax your jaw, taking him further. The effort makes you moan, the vibrations only adding to Ghost's pleasure as your mouth finally meets the top of your hand. Even then, you're barely half-way. You pull off his cock to spit on it, rubbing it everywhere to make the task easier.
"I'm a bit out of practice," you joke.
Before he can say anything, you take him back into your mouth, falling into a steady rhythm as you try to get used to his size. His hand comes down to rest on the nape of your neck while he holds himself up on an elbow to look at you. "You're so pretty with your mouth full."
You moan at the praise, getting a moan back from him. His hand that was until now simply resting on your head starts applying pressure, slowly pushing you further onto his cock. He watches himself disappear into your mouth with half lidded eyes, his mouth slightly parted. You let him guide you. Despite how hot it is to see you surrender yourself to him like that, he doesn't want it to feel unpleasant for you, mindful of your limits. Though when he feels resistance, instead of pushing past it, he holds you there for a few seconds, just to feel the way your nails dig into his thighs.
"Fuck...y'doing so good for me," he says, his eyes closing for a moment. You love how gentle he is with it, letting you appreciate every inch that comes in and out of your mouth.
You whine when you feel him pulling you off his cock, chasing it with your tongue. "Good God, look at you."
Your behavior amuses him. He grabs himself, slapping the tip of his dick against your tongue before repeating the motion on your cheek. The act would feel degrading if it was anyone else but you don't complain, enjoying being his thing even if it's just for the night.
Ghost sits up, pulling you towards him for a kiss. You rise to your knees, straddling his hips, shuddering when his erection brushes against your core. Your arms come around his neck while his wrap around your waist, pressing your bodies flush. The kiss is tender, his lips warm and soft, parting slightly to allow your tongue to slip inside.
You slip your hand between your bodies, lining up his dick with your entrance. Ghost's hands move to your hips, guiding you down onto him. You break the kiss, resting your forehead against his shoulder to watch him disappear inside of you. You moan at the stretch as you finally meet his hips.
"Such a good girl, taking me so well," he whispers right next to your ear, hands caressing your back in a soothing motion.
"Stop distracting me while I'm trying to ride you like a mechanical bull."
Ghost chuckles but obliges, leaning back against the pillows. "My bad."
You steady yourself on his chest, grabbing harder than you really need to because you know he likes it. You rock back against him, just to feel how deep he is inside of you. Then you start moving on him, pulling all the way up before dropping down. You quickly find a rhythm that renders you both speechless, the only sound in the room being that of skin slapping and moans. Apart from his possessive hold on your thighs, Ghost is docile under you, letting you use him however you want. Might as well give him a show. You lean back with your hands on his knees, planting your feet on the bed. You didn't possibly think he could hit deeper than he already was but that angle has you seeing stars. You start chasing your own pleasure, shamelessly.
Ghost drinks in the sight of your body – the way your breasts bounce with every thrust, your labored breaths showing in the way your chest rises and falls, your usually soft stomach tightening with the effort. He rests his hand on your lower stomach, thumb coming to rest over your clit. He doesn't have to do much, every thrust making you grind against his finger. Your head tilts back, pleasure taking over your body. Sweat is forming on your forehead, bits of hair sticking to your face while the rest cascades behind your back. Ghost loves seeing you lose yourself on his dick, the knowledge that you're feeling good almost better than his own pleasure.
Your thrusts turn sloppy, legs starting to tremble as you clench around him – all tell-tale signs that you're getting close. Your hands tense, holding onto his thighs to steady yourself as your orgasm washes over you. Your legs give out, his dick bottoming out as you limply fall back down, knees pressing together in an attempt to stop them from shaking.
You press your lips together, trying to keep in your moans as you realize how embarrassingly loud you are. Ghost is clearly against the idea, forcing your legs apart to tease your clit as a reminder. "Don't play shy now." You whine, jerking away.
You push your hair out of your face, cheeks red and mouth still parted to catch your breath. "You okay there?" he asks with a slight smile.
"I'm too okay," you say as you pull him out of you, still panting, sitting higher up on his stomach. You kiss him, practically melting into his arms, all your muscles feeling sore and useless. "Told you to fuck me to sleep," you whisper against his mouth.
"Whatever the lady asks for."
Ghost guides you off of him, maneuvering you until you're laying flat on your stomach. You're thankful for the position, your limbs feeling like jelly. He lays a kiss between your shoulder blades before pushing back into you.
You let out a satisfied sigh, fingers clenching around the sheets. You've already came multiple times yet you can't seem to get enough of him.
Ghost grunts above you. "You're so tight like this."
"You're so big," is all you can think of – half an answer to what he just said and half a blunt statement.
Ghost starts thrusting into you, deep and hard, pent up from you riding him. You moan into the sheets, taking it.
"Let me hear you," he says as his hand comes around your throat, pulling you up. You were already fucked out of your mind, but with your blood flow restricted you can barely think. His other hand comes to hold yours, intertwining your fingers.
Somehow you feel another orgasm building, incoherent sentences leaving your mouth. You look up at Ghost through your eyelashes. Your pupils might as well be hearts. He catches your gaze and his hips stutter. "Fuck."
"Missed you so much," you blurt out, slurring your words.
"Fuck." He breaks eye contact, burying his face in your hair.
"Gonna cum again," you whine.
"Me too baby, me too."
You pulse around his cock, moans loud and constant as you cum. Ghost feels it and it's enough to push him over the edge, jagged thrusts fucking deep inside of you as he fills you up.
Ghost just holds you for a moment, comfortable silence taking over the room as your breathing slows down. He presses a kiss to your hair, then repeats the gesture in all the places he can reach, as if he's apologizing for something. You don't like how that thought makes you feel.
"There's no way it's not getting on the sheets this time." You share a laugh at his comment. Truth is, you couldn't care less.
Ghost pulls out and gets up with a gentle slap to your ass. "I'll get you cleaned up."
You lay there with your head between your arms as he heads for the bathroom. When he comes back you still haven't moved, which makes him believe you've either fallen asleep or are about to. He handles you with so much care you might cry.
You're relieved when you feel the bed dip and the warmth of his body next to yours. You snuggle against him as he pulls the cover over the both of you.
You want to say something, ask a stupid question, thank him maybe. For what ? You don't know exactly. But the second his hand is in your hair, you're sound asleep.