Ghostly Seduction (Siren Publishing Ménage and More)

by Gwen Campbell

  “Easy does it, my darling.”

  It was Raleigh’s voice, but that was insane. She breathed in, about to scream, and caught his scent—sandalwood, oak, and a hint of fine cigar.

  “A woman as beautiful as you shouldn’t worry her pretty head with business. You should be pampered, adored, worshipped.”

  “Oh my god you’re real.” The words came out flat, like fear had eclipsed every emotion she was capable of and there was nothing left to reflect in her speech.

  “Well of course I am.” She felt his breath on the side of her neck, felt his moustache against her skin. “This is what comes from educating women beyond the basics. They think too much.”

  She tried to jump out of the chair and run away. “There’s no such thing as ghosts. You’re not real. You can’t be real.” Strong hands on her shoulders held her in place. “How come you’re real?”

  With his mouth nuzzling her ear, he chuckled. The sound of warm, male amusement spread goose bumps across her skin. “If you mean why am I solid,” he said, “it’s because I’m what I like to call charismatic. I’m like a shimmering galaxy of outer-worldly energy that some women, like you, can see, feel…” He stroked her cheek, tipped her head to his. “Taste.” His lips grazed hers, nipped gently, then pulled away. “Free your imagination, my darling. Let me make love to this beautiful body. Give yourself over to seduction.”

  “No. No, no, no!”

  “Ah your lips say no, but your body says yes.”

  “That’s lame even for a ghost.” Shelby balked. What the hell was she saying? What the hell was she thinking?

  It now felt like her forearms were tied to the arms of her chair. She tried to jerk away but couldn’t. She watched her short-clad legs spread. Saw the delicate impression fingers left on her thighs as they were eased apart. Despite her clothing, warm breath touched her pussy. A tongue grazed her labia then slipped into her sheath.

  “No. This isn’t real.” She shook her head, tried to convince herself, tried to wake up even though she knew she was awake. “It can’t be real. You’re a dream. A product of my imagination,” she pointed out rationally then bit back a burst of hysterical laughter.

  “Then dream on, my beauty.”

  As clear as day, she felt Raleigh’s tongue move inside her, heard the delicate, wet, churning sound it made, saw the impression of his hands on her breasts before her nipples were pinched and pulled out from her body with just enough force to make her shiver and hiss.

  “Surrender to the fantasy.” His mouth left her pussy and left a wet path across her belly.

  Despite her clothing, despite seeing nothing, she clearly felt the moisture on her skin. Beneath her T-shirt and bra, she saw her nipple distend as he drew it into his mouth and begin to suck gently.

  Was this what it felt like to go insane? Tied by phantom ropes, pressed into her tall, leather chair by a phantom lover, Shelby rocked her head back and forth. She grinned maniacally as he squeezed and mouthed her breasts. After what felt like a long time, he worked his way back down to her pussy, licked her clean, then drew circles around her anus with the tip of his tongue.

  Her lover moved through furniture like he moved through clothing—like they and not him were without substance. He moved over and around her as if the physical laws of gravity and mass had no meaning. She jerked in the chair when his tongue pressed against her with unshakeable verve. Despite that, she clearly felt the chair beneath her, saw the arms and, beneath her spread legs, the seat. She felt her bra straps on her shoulders, the shifting of her thong as she squirmed.

  He moved behind her, held her like his naked body was the chair. Warm breath touched her neck. Teeth stung her shoulder. “If you’re not ready to accept me for what I am, Shelby, I’ll stop.”

  Sucking in a breath, Shelby stilled. Phantom hands caressed her shoulders. His nose nudged her hair out of the way so he could kiss her neck.

  “On the cusp of sleep, the living are often more receptive to seeing the dead,” he said quietly. “Perhaps taking you while you’re awake wasn’t the good idea I thought it would be.” Then he changed the subject. “You’re the most delightful lover I’ve ever had. Certainly the most uninhibited.” Against her cheek, she felt his mouth form a smile. “I want to love you, Shelby. Make love to you. I’m used to controlling women in my bed. Apparently, I’m a product of my time,” he added in a self-deprecating tone. “It would please me to take you while you’re bound and unable to prevent me from teasing you to orgasm. I’d also very much like to plow your backside. I suspect you’d like me to. I’m also hoping you have previous experience in that area. No pun intended.”

  “Oh my gawd, if I’m going crazy, why didn’t I do it sooner?”

  Raleigh’s soft, seductive laugh echoed through the room. Fingers grazed her anus. They were warm and wet, smearing something oily against her. Slowly, one finger penetrated her, eased out, and pressed in again.

  “Relax, my darling,” he breathed near her ear.

  Despite everything, Shelby’s body liked what he was doing. How he touched her. Her ass had always been one of her major hot spots. Why was it a dead guy turned her on more than any of her living lovers had? She laughed and thought she sounded insane.

  A second finger penetrated her and eased in carefully. Deliberately, she relaxed. If this was what being nuts felt like, she was all for it. Like in her dreams, ghost Raleigh was a selfless, patient lover. When he pressed a third finger against her, he paused like he was waiting for her to protest.

  “Touch me,” she breathed. “Don’t stop.” She tried to squirm her ass back into him.

  With a murmur of approval, Raleigh kissed her ear, nuzzled her cheek, and eased all three fingers into her.

  The stretching burned but didn’t hurt. She felt deliciously full as he massaged her back opening, gently widening it. His other hand was moving over her again. He teased her clit, sank into her pussy with sensual restraint, and made her buck and moan. Those fingers teased and manipulated her arousal.

  “You’re so beautiful, Shelby. Perfect. Open yourself to the decadent delights of buggery.”

  She groaned as a slick cock pressed against her, replacing the fingers massaging her back passage. His thick rod eased into her so gently she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. Inside her, he reached a point where his cock felt uncomfortable, then hurt.

  “Stop,” she cried out. Her anus contracted involuntarily, making it worse.

  He stopped moving immediately. “Of course, darling. No rush. We’ve got all the time in the world.” He held her, caressed her breast, stroked her cheek, but his hips didn’t move an inch.

  Breathing slowly, Shelby mastered her reflexive fear and forced herself to relax. “Okay,” she said after a moment. She nodded. “Try again. But go slow.”

  “Of course.”

  She simply couldn’t doubt the sincerity in his voice.

  Raleigh withdrew perhaps an inch, paused, and slid back into her. This time, her body accepted him eagerly. The fullness and heat made her crazy hot.

  “You’re so beautiful. Forgive me for repeating myself,” he said as he withdrew, rolled his hips lightly, then pressed back into her. “But you’re just so perfect. The perfect lover. So responsive, so willing to gift another with your pleasure.” He slid in deeper, paused with the very tips of his pubic hair tickling her ass, then eased back. “I adore you. Being with you. Loving this charming, enchanting body.” This time, he sank into her faster. Not by much but enough to let her feel the burn of his need. The strength behind his thrust pushed him in as deep as he could go. His balls nestled against her bare pussy. His hips compressed her ass.

  “Fuck that feels good.” Shelby hissed and dropped her head back on his shoulder.

  “Proper gentlewomen mind their language,” he growled. “I’ll have to punish you for that.” His strokes came faster, his thrusts harder.

  “Ohhh…” she groaned. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  His rich laughter bounced a
round the room. This time, Raleigh drove into her ass, held her hips, and fucked her like he meant it. His thumb moved over her clit, his fingers crammed inside her pussy.

  He moaned. “I love how that feels. Fingers and cock rubbing together through the thinnest of walls that separates your nether hole from your cunny.”

  Long minutes passed with him fucking her vigorously, masturbating her until she was panting. The friction from his strokes turned her on like crazy, and she clearly felt her drenched panties at the same time she felt his wet fingers moving over and in her. Gripping the chair’s arms, Shelby gasped and bore down on him.

  “Ah. Sweet. Yes. Squeeze me. Hold me. Milk my orgasm until I cry out.”

  A corner of her mind hoped he wouldn’t scream too loud because his mouth was right by her ear. His moustache rubbed her cheek as he fucked her hard.

  She felt release tighten her muscles and tried to fight it. It felt too good. Raleigh’s hard shaft felt too wonderful for this insanity to end. But she couldn’t hold back. Heat flashed through her. Sweat made her exposed skin shimmer in the dim light. She spread her legs as wide as she could, lifted her thighs, and opened herself to his decadent pounding. Her body flexed and arched back. The heat, the burn was delicious. A throbbing sensation coursed through her pussy and made her whimper and shut her eyes tight against the light firing behind them. Her body strained, tightened. Her breasts swelled until her T-shirt felt too small.

  “You’re so perfect, my lovely. My sweet.”

  Raleigh’s words echoed in her head as release, sharp and inescapable, crashed through her and made her nerves spark and her pussy pulse with the most exquisite awareness.

  Finally, the pounding ecstasy faded, leaving her fulfilled and deliciously sensitive. Finally, her muscles stopped contracting. When they did, Raleigh’s body tensed against hers. He growled—a low, plaintive moan as his hips jerked against her ass. That fat, heavenly rod buried inside her began to jerk. Wetness, thick and virile, filled her, spilled out as he continued to pump into her, and turned the rhythm of their fucking into a wet, squelching, erotic sound.

  Gently, after the hard pulses of his release stopped, he eased his cock and fingers out of her. She felt the viscous weight of his cum inside her and basked in her ability to pleasure and be pleasured in return. Yet within seconds, the pool of semen inside her seemed to evaporate like it had never been there in the first place. Trails of it between her legs, gathering on the seat, slowly vanished.

  She flopped back into the chair, breathing hard, sweating, sitting in panties drenched only with her juice. The phantom ropes that had tied her arms to the chair melted away. Looking up, she saw Raleigh materialize in front of her. He was naked, standing back on his heels with his legs spread comfortably. His expression was smug, full of male pride—perhaps rightfully so. His deflating yet still-long cock lay against his thigh. It glistened with spent juices. Leaning forward, he kissed her and cupped her breast.

  “Do you believe in me now?”

  * * * *

  “Okay let’s assume I’m not insane. Although I have my doubts.” Shelby stripped off her sweaty clothes, dropped them on the tile floor, and turned on the shower. She pinned up her hair and fetched a clean towel.

  Raleigh had followed her. Naked, he was lounging on a big, poufy futon in front of her en suite’s makeup mirror, watching her with open pleasure.

  “What the hell are you?” she barked, tested the water temperature, and stepped into the flow.

  “The technical term,” he drawled, “is an incubus. A spirit who comes to a sleeping woman for carnal relations. Although I prefer to think of myself simply as Raleigh Tanner.” He stepped into the shower—through the glass door—picked up her bar of soap, and smoothed it over her back.

  “But Raleigh Tanner’s dead.”

  “Well of course I am,” he agreed without censure. “I’ll wager no man alive ever rogered you half as well as I have.”

  “Crude but correct.” She looked down and watched his soapy hand move over her belly. “Okay, I’ve been here over two weeks. How come I’ve only seen you three times?”

  “Four, if you include that afternoon by the front entrance. Those modern shorts women are so fond of wearing and that backside of yours when you bent over…I just couldn’t resist grabbing a feel. Really quite unforgivable considering we hadn’t been properly introduced.” He ran the bar of soap down her arm.

  “So does Lee know you’re here?” She turned to face him, and he held her breast like it was a familiar, cherished friend. “Does he see you? Did he see you?” she asked with rising alarm.

  “No. No, my darling Shelby.” Raleigh’s voice was quiet and reassuring. “Lee’s an admirable man, but he has little in the way of what I like to call imagination.”

  “Imagination?”

  “Yes. The ability to tune to the right wavelength as it were.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Well, certain people seem to be open to seeing spirits. Others aren’t. In my case, it’s almost exclusively women who sense me, and it’s women who I perceive most often. I’ve also found those with the greatest imaginations see me clearest.”

  “Wait a minute.” She held up a finger to emphasize her point and make him focus on what she was staying instead of continuing his soapy, southward path. “Lee’s an engineer. I’m an accountant. By definition, he’s the one with the imagination.”

  “How wonderfully misguided you are, my dear. You’re the one who sees me, feels me when I touch you.” His fingers moved over her mound and teased her clit hood. He kissed her lightly then continued. “How can you doubt your ability to shake off the constraints of your so-called reality? As to seeing me infrequently, spirits aren’t governed by earthly laws of time, space, and reality, as I believe I so pleasurably demonstrated while you were sitting in that chair of yours.”

  Shelby had to agree with that one.

  “I simply don’t experience the passage of time as you do. Plus, at first, it was easier to break through to you while you were sleeping. Your conscious walls were down as it were. You’re far more receptive to my presence now. You’ve also been here several weeks. Sensing me is often a cumulative event…or so women have said.”

  Nodding, she digested what he’d said while he soaped her chest, neck, then her ass and legs.

  “Do you know a little girl named Devonna?”

  Raleigh’s hands stilled. “Why?” The warmth and intimacy were gone from his voice, making him sound distant.

  She looked up at him, no longer aware of the soothing stream of water hitting her shoulders and neck. “I think I’ve spoken to her.”

  “Spoken?” Whatever distance had crept into his voice was gone, replaced by rising excitement. “You mean you’ve actually spent time with her? Does she seem well? Is she happy?”

  “Um, she was happy when I planted flowers the way she wanted.”

  Raleigh laughed with undisguised delight. “She always did love playing in the gardens. She’s a Tanner through and through. I can see her racing around with that hairy mongrel of hers, with her mother’s spaniels trailing in their wake, clear as day.” He looked away like he was focusing on his memories instead of her. Shelby thought he seemed elated yet somehow melancholy at the same time. “What did she say?” he asked suddenly.

  “She, she asked if I’d seen her father. Have I? Seen her father?” Shelby knew the answer, but some instinct prompted her to ask anyway.

  When he took a step back, she felt him distancing himself emotionally from her as clearly as she saw a guarded look dim those usually warm, dark eyes of his.

  “Yes. I’m Devonna’s father.” He turned away and faded as he walked out of the room.

  Chapter Six

  “Do you know anything about Raleigh and Devonna Tanner? Other than his success in business?” Shelby spooned a last bit of peach cobbler into her mouth.

  “Raleigh,” Lee said thoughtfully. “Do you want any more?” He held up
the dessert pan. When she shook her head, he served himself the last bit of the cobbler she’d made that afternoon, right down to scraping the pan to within an inch of its life. He added a spoonful of vanilla ice cream to his plate. “There’s a boardroom painting of him upstairs. I look like him, except for the moustache.”

  “Yes.” Shelby made a determined effort to keep her expression neutral.

  “I’m named after him, too. With a modern variation on the spelling.”

  They were sitting at a patio table close to the summer kitchen. Shelby thought she’d been quite clever to roast a chicken over the barbeque instead of heating up the house.

  “I found some old photo albums. I hope you don’t mind I looked through them.”

  “No. I’m glad somebody’s getting something out of them. I’d forgotten they were there. I think the last person to look through them was my mother. That was before she left and moved to Miami.”

  “How old were you?” As she spoke, she walked over to the outdoor kitchen prep area, retrieved the aluminum foil, and brought it back to the table. She started forking leftover chicken onto a square of foil.

  “Twelve.” Lee said it like it was no big deal. Like it was an old hurt he’d learned to live with. “I remember something about a family tragedy.” The speed with which he switched back to the previous topic told Shelby the hurt wasn’t buried as deep as he’d led her to believe. “An ancestor—I think it was Raleigh—his wife died. Along with their young daughter. Typhoid fever I think.” He forked a piece of leftover chicken off the platter. It hovered over the foil like he was going to drop it then made its way to his mouth. As he chewed he made a quiet sound of pleasure. “Apparently the family had a new cook that summer,” he said after swallowing. “She brought the disease in with her. One of the maids, a girl in her teens, died as well I think.” Putting down his fork, he used his fingers to pick up another piece of chicken and bit into it.

  “That’s terrible.”

  “Yeah. If I had kids, I think something like that would drive me insane.”