Ghost Avenger

by Serena Akeroyd

  In one move, she reaches up and over, kicking her knee out so she can straddle me. Her legs widen to the breadth of my lap and she settles herself close to me, her heat against my hardness.

  For the first time, we’re touching sex to sex.

  Kisses and embraces aside, we haven’t even engaged in all that much heavy petting. Apparently, that’s all going to the dogs now.

  With her ass settled on my knees, she sits straight-backed and shrugs out of her thick parka coat.

  “How long until we get to the house?” I ask, stunned at how quickly she’s taking this, but relieved too.

  I need this. I need her.

  “Long enough. It’s a forty-minute drive.”

  The faint strands of classical music sound from behind the privacy screen, enough to know it’s on loud because I wouldn’t be able to hear it at all if not for its high volume.

  We’re doing this.

  We’re really doing this.

  There’s an urgency to her movements. She tugs her shirt overhead then reaches behind her for her bra. The instant the smooth globes are revealed to me, my heart stutters. I reach forward, cupping them both in my too large hands, and revel in her enjoyment of my touch as her head falls back, the natural curve in her spine deepening as she pushes forward to meet my caress.

  Her sensuality, without artifice, kills me. Beneath her, at her core, I know she has to feel the persistent pressure of my dick; it’s unavoidable. A thought that’s confirmed when she rocks her hips, slowly undulating on my lap until my cock feels like it’s going to explode behind my fly.

  Of course, I keep it together, but the languid-like nature behind this is like something I’ve never experienced before. Something unique to us.

  I like that.

  Just as I like her.

  I reach forward, enjoying her sultry movements, and press my lips to her nipples. She makes a mewling sound that’s hardwired to my nervous system. Urgency spills through me at the slight noise, and I grab a hold of her, splaying my fingers wide against her lower back as I drag her against me. Sucking at her nipple, I tease the nub, enjoying the swell and pucker as it reacts to my touch. She burrows down, nuzzling her face against my own. I feel her teasing my ear again, her tongue taunting it, dragging sensations from it that I’ve never known before.

  My cock pulses behind my fly, reminding me of the urgency of the situation. It’s been a long time since I’ve had sex, and this isn’t just any sex. This is sex with the woman I’m falling for.

  It isn’t that I want to come. Which of course I do. It’s that I want to be inside her. I want to connect with her. A connection that can only come between a man and his woman, one that is equally as unique as they are.

  “Take off your pants,” I grit out, releasing her nipple with a pop.

  I’m well aware that will leave her fully naked and me, fully clothed. I guess that’s unfair, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Her breath quickens, her tits bobbing and bouncing with the increase in her pulse. She scrabbles off my lap, works at her fly, then wriggles out of her jeans, and, I gulp, her panties. She pulls off her sheepskin boots while she’s down there and returns to me naked.

  I never expected her to be so giving, so free with her sexuality. There’s a hard edge to Jayce. A streak of her nature that has been repressed.

  I can’t help wondering if I’m a catalyst for her too. Maybe I’m helping her open up, because the woman I know, or at least, am coming to know, would never do anything like this.

  Of course, people can always surprise me. But I’m a good judge of character, and Jayce’s behavior is definitely out of the ordinary.

  In the best possible way.

  As she stripped, I worked at my belt buckle, and with relief, released my shaft from the cage of the denim as I work my pants down a little. When she returns to me, her legs spreading so I can see the delicate lips of her sex part with the movement, she whispers, “You go commando?”

  I blink at her, then smirk. “Surprise you?”

  She giggles. Honest to God, giggles. I blink at her again in wonder, hearing the restraint that is her constant companion go on hiatus, then hide my grin when she sheepishly nods. “Just a bit. You seem very strait-laced, Drake.”

  “Don’t worry,” I tease, reaching down and with a single digit, slide it along the curve of her wet slit. As her back arches again, a cry escapes her as I slip my finger into her wetness just barely. With her already strung tight, I continue, “I’m not.”

  “No. Strait-laced is definitely not the right word,” she gasps out, hips rocking again as she enjoys the barely-there penetration. I let my other hand come to her, this time circling her clit. She slaps a hand to her mouth to conceal the noises she’s making, which is a shame. I love those sounds but know now is not the time or the place.

  The car makes a sudden braking motion, pushing her forward against me. I can hear the driver snarl something, barely, before the limo starts up again, more smoothly this time. The intercom buzzes. “Sorry about that. A car pulled out at a stop light.”

  Jayce giggles when the intercom crackles to a halt, leaving us in silence again. “He’d have had an eyeful if he’d rolled the screen down.”

  “Let’s be glad he didn’t.”

  “Very glad,” she murmurs.

  “Are you on the pill, Jayce? I didn’t bring anything with me.” In hindsight, that was a stupid thing to do but not from the starry look in her eyes.

  “I’m on the pill. Don’t worry.”

  “I’m clean,” I tell her earnestly. “I’d never do anything to put you in danger.”

  “I never thought you would.”

  I smile at her, loving her trust, but especially loving the closeness that has come from the rough jarring of the limo. She’s a hair’s breadth from me now, and I continue my ministrations but reach for her lips, catching them with my own. She lets out a sigh then wriggles her hips.

  “I need you, Drake,” she whispers, breaking my heart while rebuilding it at the same time.

  What this woman does to me.

  I shudder but tell her, “And I need you, Jayce.”

  The heat in the limo is astounding, especially in comparison to how cold we were before. I can feel sweat start to bead at my temples and down my spine, and Jayce’s lush form, all curves and ripe womanly roundness, gleams in the low light. It’s the sizzling spice between us that has made the temperature soar, and it feeds me when we kiss, for the first time knowing this is going to take us to the last step.

  She’s ready. I can feel the urgency vibrating through her. It spirals inside me, releasing that part of me that calls out for her. I want her to be mine. I need her to be mine.

  I grab her butt as I tear at her lips, pushing my tongue into her mouth, taking her there as I’ll take her in a moment. She moans but challenges me, tasting me as much as I’m tasting her, stealing my breath as I steal hers. I nudge her forward, enjoying the break in her concentration as my cock brushes her bare pussy.

  We both moan, but hers is breathy with surprise. I knew what was coming, but it doesn’t lessen the power of the moment. Jesus, she’s hot, so wet. I shudder again.

  She reaches down as she presses our mouths together and grabs a hold of my shaft. My closed eyes clench down as sensation floods me. Tension ripples down my spine and hardens my torso, filling me with the desire to connect to her.

  To unite.

  She feels it too because her pussy brushes my cock once more. She rears her hips up, settles my glans against the notch at her core, and slowly, carefully, starts to take me.

  I gulp, rearing back from her mouth to look down, to watch as her body opens for me. “Oh Christ, Jayce,” I moan, and see she’s watching too. Her sweat-sheened face is loaded with concentration as she watches my shaft swallowed whole by her wetness.

  Bare, she feels like heaven.

  Worse, she feels like home.

  As she starts to take more of me, not stopping until her ass sits on my lap once more, my
head falls back against the rest as I revel in the sensation of being one with her.

  “Yes,” she breathes, when I’m fully inside her. Her hands come up to my shoulders, her thumbs sliding along the slope of the tense muscle there, down and around to the base of my neck. She massages the tension away then leans forward, arching so her breasts rub against my chest, not stopping until I feel a nipple rub my chin. The delicate silk is like a feathery kiss against my jawline.

  “Is that a hint?” I tease, eyes shut as I revel in the sensation of being home at long last.

  “Always,” she murmurs, and then she moves.

  And holy Christ, I see stars.

  Honest to God stars.

  Slowly, she rises up then falls, and my heart once again feels like it’s taking part in a boxing fight inside the ring of my chest.

  I tilt my head forward to watch her move. Each undulation of her hips is sinuous, sensual, and she moves until my shaft is close to falling out before sliding down deep, impaling herself on me once more.

  It’s a voyeur’s delight, watching her wriggle and writhe on top of me. More than that, it’s my delight.

  She’s mine. The thought compounds itself into a belief as with every wriggle and every writhe, she forges the connection between us with her body.

  I lift my hands, cupping her breasts, tweaking her nipples, before drifting down to cup her hips. Helping her, she starts to move faster. Harder, more insistent thrusts. Taking me deep, letting me feel the molten heat of her as she feels the steely hardness of me.

  Sliding one hand down, I curl into her, letting my thumb part the petals guarding her sex. As I rub her clit, just the once, she stills. Freezes on my lap.

  “Do that again,” she whispers hoarsely, the command, a fierce and ferocious one, sets my senses alight.

  I do as bid, loving how her eyes widen, as though she’s stunned at the touch. She speeds up, her pleasure making her pussy pulse and clutch at my shaft. I’m so close to coming, so close to release that I rub her clit harder, a little faster, and watch as she explodes atop me.

  The muscles of her pussy clamp down on me, milking me of my seed. Even the pleasure coursing through me is enough to make me cry out with the earthy glory of it, but it’s nothing compared to the sight of her.

  I thought she’d come. But I suddenly realize she hasn’t.

  She’s at a plateau. One that she needs to dive off only to soar up high. But there’s a lost look to the glassiness of her eyes. Almost like she’s never done this before. A flustered vibration that has her hovering rather than flying free.

  I frown at the thought, but grab her by the hips again and move for her. Simultaneously, I reach up until my head is closer to hers, and I reach for her mouth, not stopping until I can slip my tongue between her lips and take her there as I’m taking her now. I can feel my cock starting to soften, release making me feel that post-glow fatigue that hits every man, but I push it aside. This is too important.

  As I fuck my tongue into her mouth, urging her to claim me back, I jab my hips up in sharp thrusts and then, she moans around my tongue, the vibration making it buzz with the oddness of the sensation. Her pussy starts to flutter, the tiny muscles twitching like butterfly wings around my shaft as finally, she takes off, dives over the edge, and experiences the glory of an orgasm.

  Because, crazy though it seems, I think this is her first.

  And that just makes my goddamn day.

  Chapter Seven

  Jayce

  Oh, my God!

  I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to wail as sensations hit me, sensations I don’t know how to process. They’re bombarding me, hitting me on all sides, not letting up. I was stuck, floundering, the feelings of reaching a peak were there, and I knew I was close, but still it felt so far. Until that distance felt impossible. Until I knew, like always, it would start to fade as the intensity of the moment went away.

  I can feel the slippery slide of Drake’s shaft inside me, and know he’s come. I love the wetness, the sticky sounds there. They’re gross, I guess, but the earthiness of the moment feels so wholesome, I almost don’t mind that I haven’t come.

  And then, Drake does something that stuns me. He grabs my hips again, starts to rock his hips up, sharp, hard thrusts that rub the tip of his shaft against a bundle of nerves that I didn’t even know existed.

  He leans up and forward, reaching for me, and as our mouths connect, he takes me there as he takes my pussy. But deep inside me, that cluster of sensation is under attack, and Christ, I want nothing more than to let down the drawbridge and welcome him home.

  I don’t even know how he found it. But his position, the sharp jabs of his hips... oh God!

  A moan escapes me, making my lips tingle and his too probably. We’re still connected there. The moan turns into a groan as suddenly the feelings I’ve been dying to experience with the few sexual partners I’ve had, happen.

  It actually happens.

  Rather than seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, wishing I were closer to it—knowing it would start to fade as the seconds passed—now I’m embraced by that light. It floods me. Lights me up from the inside out. Pours through my body, ricocheting around so that every nerve ending is touched, caressed by the power of the sensations stunning me.

  Completion has never felt so epic.

  Having finally taken the dive and soaring afterward, rather than falling flat on my face, I slump against Drake. My torso is sweaty, but he doesn’t seem to mind my damp skin against his sweater. If anything, he holds me closer, his arms wrapped tightly around me. I nuzzle my face into his jaw, loving his scent, loving everything about him.

  He feels like home. But not in the sense he’s comfortable. Not like an old pair of slippers that fit just right. In the sense that he fulfils me in ways I didn’t know I was lacking.

  He cares for me. Me.

  A woman who is so hard to love, even her brother and parents never found it that easy to engage with her.

  But this isn’t a time for sorrow or to feel depressed at how much I lack, because with Drake, I don’t. And those fizzy feelings still zipping around my bloodstream, feelings this man has helped me know, are as unique as Drake.

  “Oh God, I don’t want to move,’ I grumble, my lips brushing his shaved throat when I feel the sudden change in texture of the road beneath us. It’s gone from smooth asphalt to rough gravel, which means we’re at the start of Marla’s huge ass driveway.

  He kisses my cheek, then does the damnedest thing: licks it. I rear up and back, gawking at him. “Did you just lick me?”

  He doesn’t take offense at my shock, just laughs. “It’s okay to lick you before sex just not after it?”

  When he puts it like that, I guess it’s stupid. My cheeks heat. “Sorry.”

  He shakes his head, but he’s trying, and failing, to hide his smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t do it if it makes you uncomfortable.”

  I immediately shake my head. “No. Whatever you want, whatever you need... I’m here for you.”

  The words, bumbling and awkward though they may be, have him staring at me. The intensity of his gaze warms me up again, and when I duck my head, he grabs my chin and keeps me looking at him. “Whatever you want, whatever you need,” he repeats, “I’m here for you.”

  The smile we share is soft, gentle. Tender with the still unspoken emotions flowing between us.

  All I know is that this man makes me feel things, and not just orgasms, that I’ve never known before.

  Hell, I would probably keep him around just for the orgasms—when you’ve never had one, suddenly finding a dude who can give you ’em is a pretty enormous deal! But still, I figure he did it, when no other guy ever has, because he’s mine.

  And I’m his.

  But those possessive pronouns are for another day.

  Men never deal well with statements of that nature, even ones as open to their emotions as Drake. I don’t want to totally freak him out, so instead, I reach for
ward and kiss him.

  A gentle peck when, if we’d been in bed together, I’d have started something up again.

  Sue me, I want another orgasm. That shit feels like... Christ, I can’t even describe it! Like the best tub of ice cream and the best packet of cookies, in the whole world, suddenly taste bland. That’s how good the big O feels.

  “Thank you,” I tell him, as I slide up and off him. I can’t help but look down at the mess we’ve made together, and the sight makes my blood start to burn. When he stares where I’m looking, a grunt escapes him. Low and husky. It does things to me I didn’t think were possible. I see his cock twitch and lick my lips with need.

  “Don’t tease,” he grits out, and I can tell, he’s as ready to connect with me again as I am with him.

  “I’m not teasing,” I immediately deny, because it’s the truth. I want him as much as he wants me. “Later,” I promise, and he nods briskly. His jaw clenched as he grabs a handkerchief from his pocket, passes it to me then starts to wipe himself up with a paper one from a packet in another pocket.

  Touched at his consideration, I slide off his lap, hating the distance that comes as part and parcel of having to separate and enter the outside world.

  Realizing the limo must stink of sex, I quickly clean up then dress. Before I shove myself into my boots and coat, I reach for the console and open both windows.

  “I thought it might stink a bit,” I confess to him, grinning when he smirks at me. That cocky look, well deserved, looks good on him. I like that arrogant edge, because it’s a side of him that doesn’t come out too often.

  I’m pretty dominant by nature. I take charge of situations because it’s what I’ve had to do since I was a child. I’m in control of my world because when ghosts appear, they’re something I can’t control. I don’t deal with things like some people. I don’t check if I locked the doors in factors of six, and don’t have to steam clean the toilet seat before I can take a leak, but I have my own little ways. Ways that help me cope.

  Drake is a quiet man. Solid. Dependable. In some ways, he could be viewed as soft. But he isn’t. That cocky look reminds me of that. It reminds me of his anger earlier, anger aimed at me because I wasn’t careful enough, because I wasn’t caring for my safety...