Chapter Nineteen

Mallory

A whining moan erupts from my lips as Ghost latches his mouth to my clit and sucks. I want so badly to see, to touch, and pull him to me. I know this was part of his plan, there’s no escaping him again. I’m forced to feel every stroke of his tongue as he drags it over and around my sweet spot, every slow torturous thrust of his fingers inside me. I hear every filthy thing he says by being bound and blindfolded. There’s a sensation building, it has my toes curling and my thighs clamping around his head to escape it. It’s overwhelming, too much. Ghost pries my legs open and forces my thighs to spread with the weight of his body pressing down on them.

“You will cum for me, Mallory,” he growls out. It’s a promise, a command I want to obey.

A twisted sense of joy spreads through me as I rasp, “Then make me.” His hand grabs my throat and it startles me, I gasp. I can feel the scruff of his facial hair on my cheeks, his hot breath caresses my skin as his body crushes against mine.

“Keep talkin’ like that and the only thing you’ll be cummin' on is my cock.” His voice rumbles against my neck as he starts to kiss and nip the sensitive area. I’ve unleashed that darker side of him he tries so hard to hide. Trying to be gentle for me, but I want both sides, his good and his bad, his light and dark. I feel myself growing wetter, I want him to follow through on his threat. I’m drunk on this feeling I only get when he is near. He makes me feel.

“Promise?” I can’t believe I just said that. There’s no going back now. I feel his dick throb against my centre and I grind my pussy against him. I’m a woman possessed, but I don’t care. I would gladly condemn myself to hell to have this moment with him. The first man I’ve ever lusted after, the one who consumes my thoughts every waking second and invades my dreams in the dead of night. He’s protected me, I’m pretty sure he’s killed for me, and he’s brought me back to life from the pathetic excuse of a human I was before.

I can tell by his sharp intake of breath that I’ve shocked him, rendered him speechless. It’s a first and a thrill shoots through me. I’m dripping and ready for his frighteningly hugecock. “Mal-” he whispers out my name but I cut him off. I know he’s hesitating, forcing his beast back into its cage.

“Stop talking, Ghost, and make me cum.” I wish I could see his face right now. I want him unrestrained, so if I need to be a bit snarky to get him there then I’ll do it. His grip on my throat tightens and a smile curves my lips.

“Gladly,” he says against my mouth as he moves his hips. We’re dry humping like horny teenagers but I don’t care. I’m writhing beneath him, chasing his lips as he hovers above me. He’s winding me tighter and tighter with each passing second. Then suddenly he’s gone.

“Ghost, I swear to fucking God if you-” My words are cut off by my scream as he latches his mouth to my clit and sucks as he shoves his fingers into my slick core. It’s so unexpected and ruthless, I shatter into a million pieces.

I’ve exploded into the atmosphere, floating above my body in a cloud of pleasure. I’m being brought back down to earth by every slow thrust of Ghost's fingers. I just came, holy shit. Can I do it again? Multiple orgasms are a thing for women right? A huge smile breaks out on my face, for so long I thought I was broken. Evidently, I just needed a psycho to bring all my darkest desires to life.

Ghost removes his fingers from my body and flips me over to remove the restraint around my wrists. He must have put his mask back on. I hear the buckle of his belt hit the hardwood floor as his hands start to rub the blood back into circulation in my arms. His strong hands start to massage my shoulders, working out the tension in my spine. He straddles the back of my thighs as he rubs my back, I can get on board with this gentle side of him. He works the knots from my body and I feel myself slipping into unconsciousness. Not a dissociative state but a content state of sleep. Ghost leans down, pressing a kiss to my temple, “Sleep, little siren,” he whispers against my skin.

I don’t want him to leave, I feel his weight shifting as he rises from the mattress.

“Stay,” I plead.

“Are you sure?” His voice is light, inquisitive, and I know he wants this but doesn’t want to push me.

“Yes, Ghost, I want you to stay.” I rise from the bed, keeping my back to him in case he hasn’t put the mask back on. I promised no peeking. I cross to my usual side of the bed and pull back the covers.

“Look at me, Mallory.” The depths of his voice are sure to drown me, or dehydrate me, from how wet I get every time I hear it. I raise my eyes to look at him and Ghostface is staring back at me. There it is again, that electric feeling zinging through my body. The magnetic pull between us.

I crawl into bed and pat the spot next to me. “Get in here and cuddle me, before I change my mind,” I playfully snap out as he moves to get into the bed. “Clothes off, Ghost,” I instruct flatly.

“I don’t think that’s the best idea Mal-” he starts to say but I cut him off.

“I don’t care what you think. Strip, or I withdraw my invitation.” This could blow up in my face, he could turn and leave. He did last night, but I’m banking on the fact he wants to please me. I can see him warring with himself. He probably thinks it’s too soon for us to fuck, which if his unrestrained personality rears its head again, we undoubtedly will. I can’t wait.

He bends down and starts to untie his boots. I win. A smile spreads across my face and I watch him kick them off. He starts to unzip his hooded sweatshirt and I’m ensnared. A moth to his godly light. It slides down off his arms and lands in a pile on the floor.

“Pick your jaw up off the floor, Mallory, or I’ll find something to stuff it with.” I pry my eyes off the ink that paints its way up his muscle packed arms. His black t-shirt clings to him in all the right places and I’m sure I’m salivating.

“Hmmm?” I murmur. I’m in a lust fuelled haze from the previous orgasm and him unwrapping himself like a present just for me.

He chuckles, “Do you like what you see, baby?”

“Very much,” I say. My gaze rakes across his body, unashamedly checking him out. His hands move to undo the button of his jeans, I hear the distinct noise of his zipper descending, its sound echoing around the silent room. I lick my lips and he groans.

“Stop that,” he whimpers.

“What?” I ask coyly.

“You know what,” he whines. Oh this is fun, torturing him for once. He’s hesitating, I can tell even if I can’t see his face.

“You’re sure you want me to stay? You could just be saying that because of the mind bending orgasm.” Such a cute, smug, son of a bitch.

I crawl across the bed and move to stand in front of him. I place my hands on his shoulders. He tenses, probably fearing I’ll rip the mask off and run, but I won’t. I won’t force him into something he isn’t ready for. Something holds him back and I’ll respect that, for now. I run my hands across his pecs and glide them down his abdomen. His head falls back, he’s enjoying this and a groan slips out from beneath the mask. I trace the top of his waistband gently with my finger nails.

“Mallory…” My name falls from his lips in what I’m sure is supposed to be some sort of warning tone, but his chest is heaving and it sounds more like a plea than a deterrent. I hook my fingers into the belt loops of his pants and push them down his thick thighs. I purposely drag my body down his, his hard cock brushing up my chest and between my breasts as I now kneel before him. My hand skates up the back of his calf as I lift his foot to pull his pants free, one leg and then the other. When I look back up at his face, he is already watching me. His dick pulses beneath his boxer briefs, I can see it in my periphery. I want his cock in my mouth. I know how to do this, I can bring him the same pleasure he brought crashing down upon me.

I run my palms up his thighs and feel him through the thin material. “You don’t have to,” his strangled voice shocks me.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“God, no,” he breathes.

“Then quit interrupting me,” I shoot out.

“I just…”

“SHHH!” I can’t believe I just shushed him, but he needs to stop talking before I start second guessing myself. I pull down the front of his underwear and his cock bobs in front of my eyes. His frenum piercing glistens in the light streaming through the window and I drag my tongue up and over it, circling around the head and then back to his piercing. His hands are fisted at his sides, clenching and unclenching. He’s restraining himself and the realization that he knows everything about my past crashes into me. The compassion this psycho has for me makes my heart swell. I vow to make this the best fucking blow job he has ever had as I grab the back of his thighs and take him to the back of my throat.