Page 39 of Ghost's Obsession

“I know that I’m not perfect,” he says suddenly, voice low. “You don’t have to be either. We’re two people who want to be together. Stay in the moment with me. Don’t drift off.”

That’s the sweetest thing a man has ever said to me. It touches me more profoundly than anything else tonight.

I pull off my bra and toss it away. His eyes darken immediately. The muscle in his jaw flexes, but he doesn’t rush. Ghost doesn’t pounce. He just lets his gaze drift over me like he’s starving and I’m the only thing he’s ever wanted to eat.

“Touch me,” I whisper breathlessly.

Ghost doesn’t lunge at me, nor does he get rough or impatient. He just shifts closer, dips his head, and places a kiss just above my breast, then another and another, creating a tinytrail of kisses downward. Each one is lower than the last until his mouth finds my nipple and closes around it.

I gasp, making a sharp, involuntary sound as heat pulses low in my belly. His mouth is hot, wet, and careful, tongue swirling slowly before he sucks gently, then harder. My back arches without me meaning to, my hands diving into his hair to keep him close.

He groans against my skin, like he likes the way I taste, like this is something he’s craved.

When he switches to the other side, he cups the first breast in his hand, kneading it gently as he licks and teases the second nipple until it’s tight and aching. I can’t think straight. My breath comes in uneven bursts, my thighs shifting restlessly beneath him.

“Jesus, Ghost,” I whisper. “That feels so good.”

He lifts his head, his voice low and rough. “Then let me give you more.”

Before I can answer, he kisses a trail down my stomach, slow and reverent, like he’s mapping me with his mouth. My legs are still spread on each side of him. He doesn’t ask permission this time. He just looks at me, waiting for the smallest sign.

I give a slight nod to go for it, and that’s all he needs. He peels everything off in one smooth pull, and I’m laid bare under his gaze. Feeling naked and vulnerable excites me. I’ve never felt more powerful.

He settles between my thighs, kisses the inside of one, then the other. The first stroke of his tongue makes me gasp again, louder this time. He doesn’t stop because I’ve alerted him that I like it.

His mouth is skilled, patient, and deliberate. He licks slowly at first, then faster, tongue circling that aching spot with maddening control. When he sucks, my hips jerk off the bed.

I moan. The sound is raw and needy. There’s no pretending when his mouth is on me.

My fingers rake through his hair, holding on tight as the pleasure builds fast and sharp in my core.

“I’m going to come,” I cry out, too far gone to think properly.

“I’ve got you,” he rasps. “Let go.”

I do, and my orgasm hits like a tidal wave, ripping through me in one wave after another. It leaves me wrecked, shaking, moaning his name incoherently.

“You with me?” he murmurs.

“Don’t stop now. I want your cock.”

He kisses me like I’ve said something precious. Like I haven’t just fallen apart on his tongue. Like I’m allowed to do it again.

“You good to go or do you need a minute?” he asks, brushing his nose against mine.

I gaze up at him, still breathless. “I’ve never been better.”

Ghost leans back just far enough to shuck off his jeans. My eyes follow every movement. He’s slow and unhurried about removing his pants. When he pushes his boxers down and his cock springs free, my mouth goes dry. He’s hard, thick, and flushed dark at the tip.

My breath hitches. He notices.

“Too much?” he asks, his voice low and careful.

“No,” I say quickly. “I want it. I want you.”

He grabs a condom from the nightstand, tears it open with his teeth, and rolls it on, every motion efficient and fluid. He settles back over me, bracing his forearms on either side of my head.

“I’ll go slow,” he says.

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