Fifty Shades of Fantasy: Ghosts of Desire (paranormal erotica, ghost story, ghost romance, ghosts, ghost, ghost erotica, ghost sex, Halloween, Halloween stories, sexy Halloween, Halloween erotica)
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Moving from her lips, he pressed his mouth to her neck and collarbone, laying a trail of love bites down to her breasts. Once again, he suckled at her nipples and her stomach clenched at the onslaught of pleasure. Her breasts were swollen, nipples taut with need and her core was wet and hot.
He quickened his pace and she writhed under him, softly gasping his name. Andrew lifted her legs up to his shoulders and pumped harder. Mary moaned, hands reaching for him, but only able to graze his thighs given their position. Her breasts bounced with each stroke, a reaction that tugged on her nipples, amplifying the sensory memory of his tongue lapping them into stiff points. Inside, pleasure swelled so large, she felt as if she would explode. Mary closed her eyes, retreating to an inner world of sensation. Drew pistoned between her thighs, striking her over and over until she succumbed to a second wave of bliss.
She arched up with a hoarse shriek, hands flailing on the picnic blanket, looking for something to hold onto. Andrew gripped her hips and slammed her down his length, taking advantage of her release to find his own. He groaned and bit his lip as he came, shuddering with the force of their lovemaking.
I found myself yanked out of Mary’s body and standing next to Andrew the ghost again.
I gave myself a little shake, trying to ground myself. The echoes of Mary’s orgasms still pulsed through me. “I feel dirty,” I said. “Was the supernatural ménage-a-trois really necessary?”
He shrugged, unmoved by my reaction. “That was the happiest memory of my life.”
“Congratulations. Try to keep me out of it.”
He shook his head, emphatic. “No. You have to understand how much I loved her.”
“Why?”
“Because you will judge me.”
I frowned. “Do I look like God? Or a jury?” What was this guy’s damage?
He ignored me and gestured to the events unfolding before us. Andrew entered a large home and waited in the foyer for what seemed like an eternity, hat clutched in his hands. Sweat beaded his brow and his eyes roved the roam, unable to focus on anything for long. He was nervous.
We shifted into an office where a portly man with a bald head and spectacles stared at Andrew. A red flush stained his cheeks. “No, absolutely not. You will not marry my daughter.”
“But sir..”
“I forbid it. Do you understand me, Mr. Smith?” He slammed a fist down on his desk. “Your family will not contaminate mine.”
We landed outside to see Andrew exit the house, his shoulders a dejected slump. He kicked a stone and swore under his breath as groomsmen brought up his horse. Swinging himself up into the saddle he galloped off.
The scenery rearranged itself around us, morphing into a house.
“Where are we?”
“My home.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me up the stairs. Ushering me into a large bedroom, he said, “This is my room.”
His bedroom gleamed with wooden floors and white walls. A handmade quilt covered the bed and a full length mirror stood in the corner next to a dresser. Underneath one window sat a desk made of dark wood.
“What are we doing here?”
“Wait.” His voice was terse.
His younger self stormed into the room and paced its length, brow furrowed in some kind of emotional turmoil.
Footsteps clattered on the stairs beyond the room. “Andrew,” called a voice I recognized as Mary. She rushed through the doorway, breathless with exertion. “I came as soon as I could.”
He pulled her into his arms and buried his nose in her hair, inhaling her scent. I found myself in her body again, feeling his hands tighten around Mary’s slim frame.
They kissed and the stubble of his unshaven skin scraped across her face, causing her to shiver with need.
Andrew pulled away from her and sank to his knee. He pulled the ring he’d offered at the picnic from his pocket. “Before we do anything else, I want to make this official. Will you, Mary Holmes, have me as your husband?”
Mary cupped his cheek in her hand and smiled. Joy lit up her blue eyes and her face became radiant. “I will.” She offered her left hand and he slipped the ring on her finger.
Standing he scooped her into his arms and spun in a circle as she giggled. Setting her down he said, “You’re sure?”
She nodded. “I’m sure. Papa will never approve, but I accept that now. I choose you Andrew Smith. I can’t live without you.” She kissed him and the passion between them deepened, becoming more urgent.
He unbuttoned the bodice of her dress, releasing the stays of her corset. “I think we have time to celebrate before we have to leave town.”
She nodded, eager. “Papa thinks I’m at my sister’s for the night. He won’t know I’m gone until dinner time tomorrow at the earliest.”
“We’ll be out of the state by then.”
She shivered as he kissed her shoulder. “Where are we going, Drew?”
“West to California. Father wants to open a store there. If that’s okay with you?”
“Anything that lets us be together is fine with me.” Dropping to her knees, she reached for his belt, when he moved to stop her, she said, “Please my husband-to-be, let me love you.”
Mary undid the buckle and pulled his pants down, freeing his hardness. Dipping her head, she took him into her mouth, sucking lightly. His smooth shaft filled her completely and a throbbing pulse beat against her tongue as he responded to her touch.
“Mary,” he said, groaning. He ran his hands over the top of her head and knotted his fingers in her hair, gripping her tight. His hips moved with her mouth in a soft pumping motion.
She tightened her lips around him, increasing the intensity and his back arched as he exploded.
Lifting her to her feet, he kissed her. “You are a goddess among women.” He pushed her back to the bed. “And I will cherish every blessed inch of you.”
They removed their clothes and embraced, naked. Even though Andrew had just climaxed, his length had already begun to harden again. His warm hands roamed Mary’s skin, caressing the side of her ribs down to the curve of her hips and up to cup her breasts. He teased each nipple into stiff prominence with his tongue and Mary’s head went back with a sigh, her hands running through his thick hair.
Spreading her legs wide, Andrew knelt between them and sucked the sensitive nub at her core until she reached the heights of pleasure. She was still thrashing from the orgasm when he slid into her, pumping her with long strokes. She moaned each time he sank into her soft, wet heat, hands gripping his shoulders and her body shuddering as sensation built up within her.
He reached down with a finger and pressed the sensitive spot at her core. His length pushed against her walls, his hand worked her into a frenzy and she shrieked as she lost herself in sensation once more. He groaned his own release, biting her shoulder as he did so, as if trying to anchor himself further in her flesh.
They rested for a moment after that, laying side by side, hands idly traveling each other’s curves. Mary delighted in the smooth hardness of his body, the way the strong muscles jumped under her touch. Andrew reveled in her softness, the way her flesh yielded to him.
“Should we get ready to go?”
He captured her lips for another kiss, unable to resist their temptation. “In a while. First...” He trailed off and his hands took over as his touch became more urgent.
“Again?” She laughed, her blue eyes flashing with amusement.
“Yes. Again and again.” He rolled her onto her stomach and helped her up to her hands and knees. Positioning himself behind her, he rammed into her.
Mary yelped and met him with eager thrusts of her hips, stroke for stroke. Andrew massaged her back, pushing her face down into the mattress to force her backside higher. Mary gasped into the bedcovers, her nipples pebbling into hard points and her legs trembling at the force of Andrew’s penetration as well as the burgeoning pleasure his shaft elicited from her core.
He came with a guttural moan and Mary grunted
her own release into the bed, her body quaking with the force of desire Andrew had unleashed.
Spent, they cuddled together on the bed, both lethargic. They were on the cusp of sleep when the front door to the house opened and slammed shut with a loud bang. Andrew sprang out of the bed. His expression grew more and more alarmed as heavy footsteps mounted the stairs. Mary drew the bed sheet up to cover her nakedness and watched the door, her stomach filling with dread.
“Where is she? Where is my daughter?” snarled the voice of her father. “Andrew Smith, you’re a dead man.” A gun cocked, the sound of cold steel ringing out in the air.
Mary put her hand over her mouth, smothering a cry of terror. Andrew looked at her, his eyes wide. She made a frantic motion with her hand, making the outline of a gun, but Andrew shook his head.
“It’s downstairs,” he said softly as he pulled on his clothes. “Get dressed. I’ll try to head him off.”
Mary nodded as Andrew left the bedroom, shutting the door after him. She quickly put on her dress and then crouched at the door, wanting to hear everything that was said.
“Mr. Holmes, what are you doing in my house?” Andrew’s voice was cool and calm. “I don’t believe you’ve been invited.”
“Where’s Mary?”
“Why would I know where Mary was? You have refused my marriage offer.”
“That hasn’t stopped her whoring around according to the house servants. I’ve had them watching her for weeks and she came here today. I know it for a fact because the maid followed her.” His voice became even louder. “I’m tired of her lies. She’s going to learn her lesson the hard way.”
Andrew started to speak, “Mr. Holmes--,” but whatever he had to say was cut off by the roar of gunfire.
The bullet sliced through the door to Andrew’s bedroom, striking Mary in the chest, right where her heart lay. She took in a loud gasp of air and then her lungs froze as her heart stopped pumping. She scrabbled for the door knob and opened the door, falling over the threshold into the hallway.
“Mary.” Andrew kneeled beside her, lifting her up into his lap.
From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of her father stunned by the turn of events. He’d clearly meant to kill Andrew, never thinking the man would dodge the bullet or that she would be the one to catch it. She almost felt sorry for him, for the bitterness that made murder seem rational to him.
She reached up and touched Andrew’s face with her hand as she mouthed his name.
Tears glistened in his eyes. “Hang on, Mary. We’ll get the doctor.”
But it was too late. Her vision clouded and her eyes drifted closed. She fought for a while longer to keep her hand on his cheek, to press against his warmth, but soon she lost even that battle. Even as the darkness claimed her, she heard the soul renting cry of Andrew’s grief.
I was out of her body now, standing next to Andrew’s ghost who watched events unfold, his eyes wide, his mouth a thin line. The scene continued to play out as a pool of Mary’s blood stained the floor.
Mary’s father shook himself. “It’s your fault, Smith. You did this to her. My daughter,” his voice broke and he paused for a moment fighting for control. “I’ll see to it that you pay for her death.”
Andrew gently set Mary down and stood, his hands balled into fists. His voice thundered in the hallway, reverberating with fury and grief. “Are you going to shoot me? Execute me? Do it, old man. Do it so I am free of the misery you have brought to my life.”
Mr. Holmes raised his gun and pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. He gave a harsh laugh. “Providence has spoken. Your soul will rot with your sin long before it is free of your flesh.”
Brushing past Andrew, he stormed down the stairs and out of the house.
“What the hell just happened?” I rubbed my chest, the memory of the bullet tearing into Mary’s heart still fresh. “By the way, not only did I dislike having sex with you all, I most definitely did not like getting shot.”
A muscle in Andrew’s jaw flexed as he worked to contain his emotions. Flashing a dark look at me, he said, “How do you judge me, Cassandra?”
Ah, here we were again, back to the judging bit. I lifted my chin up in defiance.“It’s not my place to judge you, Andrew.”
He grabbed my shoulders and shook me until my head snapped back. “How do you judge me?”
I blinked and noticed our background had changed to a courtroom. Andrew sat on the side of the defendant, his shoulders slumped, his eyes empty. The judge, I noted had the same last name as Mary: Holmes.
I watched him pronounce Andrew guilty and frowned. “Wait a minute, this guy is related to Mary isn’t he? He has no business being the judge.”
Andrews’s hands dropped to his side and he shrugged. “It was a small town.”
“So are you saying that Mary’s Dad shot his own daughter and then let you take the fall?”
Andrew nodded. “It was the price of loving her.”
“ I can’t believe that happened to you.” I put a hand to my head, reeling from everything I’d seen and felt; from being possessed and taken to pinnacle of pleasure only to feel the agony of being torn apart by bullets. “It’s just wrong.”
“How do you judge me?” he asked again, his voice soft.
“Innocent,” I said without hesitation. I didn’t understand it, but if he wanted to know what I thought, I would tell him. “You committed no crime while you were living, Andrew Smith, but...” I paused and placed my hands on his shoulders turning him to face me. “You are totally screwing up your afterlife.”
He raised his eyebrows. “What?”
“You aren’t supposed to be here, you should be with Mary.” I licked my lips, gathering my thoughts. “Because if you’re still you, even though you’re dead, that has to mean Mary’s out there somewhere, waiting for you.”
He looked forlorn. “How could she love me after what happened?”
Is that what held him back, kept him bound to the misery of his past for so long? I grimaced at the thought. “Because you were perfect together. She knew that. I expect her grudge would be with her father, not you and I don’t see him hanging around, beating himself up for eternity.”A bright light suddenly came to life above us. I pointed up. “I think that’s your bat signal.”
He frowned, puzzled. “Bat signal?”
“I mean, that’s your cue. You want to see Mary again, go into the light.” I made a shooing motion with my hands.
“Are you sure?”
“Sure that love can last forever? Yes. Although I can’t make any promises about what this light business entails.” I pointed up. “If that’s where she is though, she’s probably miserable without you.”
He nodded. “Thank you, Cassandra. Are you married?”
Taken aback by the question, I shook my head. “No. Why?”
“Just curious.” He took my head between his hands and kissed my forehead. “I will take your advice, but will give you mine before I go. You deserve a great love. You should not be alone.”
I laughed. “Women don’t need daddy’s permission anymore, but dating still isn’t any easier.”
He leaned down until our foreheads touched. “Look for a man who wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s out there, looking for you, I promise.”
I nodded. “Okay, sure.”
“Good bye, Cassandra. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
I raised my hand in a wave. “Good bye, Andrew.”
And then he was gone. My eyes opened and I found myself in the prison cell again. I tried to sit up, but a wave of weakness pressed me back down to the floor. I knew I should get up and leave, but I was bone tired and a deep sleep claimed me.
I woke to a bright light flashing in my eyes. Covering my face with my hands I said, “Go away.”
“She’s awake,” said a voice I didn’t recognize, although I could hear the relief it contained.
“Bring in the stretcher.”
Strong hands lifted me and placed me on
a soft bed.
I peeked out from between my fingers. “What’s going on?”
“Oh, Cassandra, thank God you’re all right.” Kelly ran to my side. Not far behind was a cameraman. “What happened to your head?” She touched my forehead and I winced.
A medic put a stethoscope to my chest while another medic wrapped a blood pressure cuff around my arm. I tried to sit up, but the medic with the stethoscope pushed me back down. “Stay still, ma’am.”
I looked up at him and my heart stuttered. “You look just like him.”
“Like who, ma’am?” He gave me an encouraging smile.
“Andrew Smith circa eighteen hundred something.”
Confusion replaced his smile. “That’s my great great uncle. How did you know?”
I focused on Kelly and reached out, pulling her close. “I think I was possessed.”
She peeled my fingers off her shirt and squeezed my hand, trying to be reassuring. “Shh, don’t jump to conclusions. It looks like you had a nasty fall.”
“You know, he was a prisoner here,” said the medic.
I nodded. “I know.” Oh believe me, did I know.
“My mom still has his diaries somewhere. She’s our family historian.” He took off the stethoscope. “Your heart beat sounds a little irregular. I’m going to start an EKG.”
The other medic said, “Her pressure is low.”
“Probably dehydration. Start a drip, will you?” The medic quickly put small white patches all over my chest and hooked them up to wires which began to record my heart beat. As he worked, I noticed a tattoo circling his bicep. Celtic in design, it featured a band of intertwined lines that formed a heart in the middle.
Look for a man who wears his heart on his sleeve.
I smiled and reached up to touch the heart. “Nice tattoo.”
The medic smiled. “Thanks.” He looked at me and our gazes locked for a long moment. “When this is over, would you be interested in seeing my uncle’s diaries? He kept them throughout the trial.”