“And we wouldn’t want that. But don’t worry,” I grinned back. “It was OK.”
“OK?” He cocked his head to the side. “Just OK?”
“Yeah, you know, not quite what I expected from a world famous, bad-boy rock star. Maybe death has made you a little rusty,” I said, faking a yawn. “But it's a good start.”
“A little rusty, am I? Then get up.”
I tried to, but my arms and legs were so wobbly, I couldn’t hold myself upright. I flopped back onto the cushions. Eric chuckled, and I laughed too.
“Fine, I lied. I can’t feel my legs.”
“Good.” Eric growled. “Then you’re exactly how I want you. Now, let me show you how bad I can be.”
He bent over me again, pressing his whole weight down on top of me. It felt odd, not heavy like other guys, but slightly buoyant, as if he might float away at any moment. His lips sought mine, and his tongue slipped inside my mouth, entwining together with mine. I reached up with my arms and traced my fingers over his shoulders, no longer freaked out by the strange, rubbery feel of his skin.
Eric leaned back, and slid off his jacket. Underneath, I saw for the first time that his shirt wasn’t simply black, it was flecked with a red thread that glowed in the light, like speckles of blood. He unbuttoned it deftly, his rubbery fingers having no trouble with his own buttons, and slid it over his shoulders.
I gasped when I saw his torso. I hadn’t imagined that under those sombre black clothes was such a taut, chiselled body. His shoulders bulged with muscle, and his chest narrowed into a trim waist. A beautiful dragon tattoo encircled his pectorals and ribs, its scales seemed to shimmer in the fading light, so that it almost appeared to move. The design looked vaguely familiar. It’s the tattoo in the window of Resurrection Ink, I realised. Eric’s chest is on that poster.
Eric’s jeans bulged. I reached forward and threaded my fingers through his belt loops, pulling him back on top of me. I fumbled with the zipper while he ran his fingers through my hair. The ache was returning to my body. I was ready for this.
I pulled down Eric’s tight jeans and he stepped out of them, revealing muscled thighs and a pair of black boxers. His cock stood erect through the thin fabric, and I almost gasped again at the size of it. I’d never been with a man that huge before. Gingerly this time, I pulled the waistband down, my lips and my pussy wet with anticipation.
Eric was even bigger than I imagined. His cock stood proud, the tip curled up slightly and purple with anticipation. I stared at it, gape-mouthed, wondering how it was ever going to fit inside me. Was it wobbly and rubbery, like the rest of his skin? Curious now, I reached down to touch it, wrapping my hand around the shaft and stroking it slowly, glad to feel that it was hard and solid, just as it should be. Eric closed his eyes, moaning softly as I stroked him.
With my free hand, I pushed his shoulder back so that he fell against the arm of the couch. I pulled myself onto my knees and leaned over, pulling his cock into my mouth. Usually I hated going down on guys, hated the way they pushed my head around, forcing me to go harder, faster, how they yelled stupid shit as they came, trying to demean me. But seeing that cock made me hunger for it. I wanted to please Eric. I wanted to see him writhe in ecstasy, the way I had done only minutes before.
My mouth slid down Eric’s shaft, not even coming close to taking in his whole length. The skin still had a slight hint of that weird rubberiness, but it was hardly noticeable. My lips wrapped around his shaft, and I began to stroke slowly, using my hand to work the rest of his length. Eric twined his fingers through my hair and moaned.
I loved the sound of his voice, growling softly as I worked him up and down, my tongue sliding over every inch of him.
“Elinor …” he moaned. “You have to stop—”
But I didn’t want to stop. I was having too much fun. I increased my speed, my hand and mouth moving in unison, my tongue slapping against the tip every time I withdrew. I tried to take him back further into my throat, enjoying the way he filled my mouth completely. I could feel him starting to harden in my hand, getting closer to—
Eric grabbed my shoulders with both hands, and tore me away. I was so shocked that he’d found the strength to do that, that I barely noticed when he laid me back against the couch and used his knees to push my legs apart. His body pressed against mine, heavy and reassuring, that fire burning against my skin, and the air around us sizzling with energy.
“Eric, are you sure about this? We’re not being safe.”
“I’m pretty sure you can’t get pregnant from a ghost.” Eric grinned, his eyes sparkling.
“But …” I was just about to ask if we could really do this, when Eric pushed himself inside of me, and the words flew from my mouth.
His length slid inside of me, filling me completely. We lay there together, not moving, just enjoying the closeness of our bodies together, of the red-hot fire heating up inside of us, the invisible flames swirling all around, enveloping us completely. Eric’s eyes bore into mine, the black irises invisible against those dark pools.
Finally, after my body felt ready to explode from craving, Eric started to move inside me. He began slowly with long, deliberate strokes. I was wet enough for both of us, and the sensation was exquisite, like rubbing against silk.
Eric’s mouth found mine and his tongue probed intensely, his kisses stealing my breath. His curls flopped against my cheeks, the ends tickling my sensitive skin. Soon, he could no longer restrain himself, and he began to thrust harder. I rose up to meet him, thrusting back with my hips, driving him deeper, wanting all of his length inside of me. It had been so long, and it felt so good. The way he filled me completely, our bodies melding perfectly together.
The heat clawed at my body, and finally overwhelmed me. I came against against him, my walls contracting around his cock, tightening as the orgasm ripped through me. My vision faded, and the world turned into white, bright heat.
Eric pumped faster, his whole body tensed, his muscles taut. Nearly all the rubberiness had left him, and as he pumped into me he felt like a normal man. Normal, but not ordinary, for no man had ever been so beautiful, or made me feel so good. All around us, the energy swirled, creating a cocoon of white hot light that encased us, protecting us, giving us this moment to share.
A third orgasm tore through me, my walls closing around Eric’s cock, milking him, dragging each thrust from him. Eric’s shoulders tensed around me, the muscles straining against his desire as he fought to hold on a little longer.
My body quivered with desire, and I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him in closer. With a final, shuddering thrust, Eric came inside me, his face contorting as he shuddered against me, and then went still, his spent body draped over mine.
“Whoa,” Eric said, his eyelids heavy.
“Yeah. Whoa.” Those exact words described how I felt at that moment.
Eric rolled off me, pushing his back against the couch. He pulled me into his arms, rolling me on to my side so that he enveloped me in his heat. As his skin touched mine I realised that the rubberiness of it had returned, as if he were fading back from a solid form into … what he was. I almost didn’t mind the odd bounciness of it as his fingers lightly traded a line over my thigh and across my breasts.
But now that it was over, my mind took control of my body once again. And my mind had questions, and clarifications, and many deep-rooted concerns about what just happened. “Eric, I don’t know what happened here, but—”
“Elinor,” his voice sounded desperate. “Please put that brilliant mind to rest for a few more moments. We’ll talk about this later, I promise. We will sit down and really get to grips with what it all means. But for now, can I please enjoy the one beautiful moment I’ve had since I died?”
I nodded, and closed my eyes, relaxing into his warmth. Yes, I could give him that.
Eric
Elinor snuggled up against me, her body still warm and slick with sweat. Her eyes were closed, and the steady rise and fall of her body to
ld me she’d drifted off to sleep. The fact that she trusted me enough to fall asleep in my arms made my new, solid body ache with joy. I could feel her warmth mingling with my own, the fog of heat surrounding us like a comforting cocoon. I wanted nothing more than to remain inside that cocoon forever.
I glanced out the window. The sun was beginning to set, casting long stripes of red and purple across the sky. How long had we been lying here? It must’ve been hours. Maybe this was like a Cinderella thing. I get until the stroke of midnight, and then I turn back into a ghost.
I knew there was no way I would sleep. I hadn’t slept for ten days now, and right now I had too many incredible memories to replay in my mind, over and over. I would never grow tired of recalling the way Elinor writhed beneath me as she came, or the way those luscious lips wrapped around my cock—
These memories swirled around with questions. How had she done it? How had she made me solid? And most importantly, how long would it last?
I didn’t have many answers, but one thing I knew for certain. I wasn’t going to waste a moment of my afterlife waiting idly to return to my spectral form. Not when I had this hot woman lying naked beside me.
Elinor moaned, and stirred beside me. She looked so beautiful sleeping there, I almost didn’t want to wake her. But I needed her awake and willing for what I wanted to do.
I leaned over and ran my fingers across her face, enjoying the smooth suppleness of her skin. It felt so good to be able to touch again, and touching a beautiful woman … even better. Elinor’s eyelids fluttered open, her long lashes sticking together. “Eric?”
“I’m here, babe.”
“So it wasn’t a dream?”
I grinned. “That was one hell of a dream.”
Elinor leaned up and pressed her mouth to mine, her body melting against me like butter on hot pancakes. She cupped my cheeks with her hands, pulling my face closer to hers, her fingers reaching up and running through my hair, tugging at the ringlets.
Our kiss heated up, tongues running against each other, lips opening to devour. The smell of her swirled around me, a soft, fruity perfume mixed with sweat and sleep and her own unique scent. I drank in the joy of it, the joy of sensation, of feeling alive, of her body wrapping itself around me, opening up to me.
Suddenly, fear overwhelmed me, sucking out all the joy that swelled in my chest. Whatever had made my body solid, made me able to feel her and caress her in this way, would be taken away again. And I would be left with the memory of her, raw and real because it was so brief. I kissed Elinor with more urgency, longing to commit every touch, every sensation to memory.
I flipped Elinor over so that she was on her stomach, and those plump round cheeks were presented to me. I wanted to take my time, to savour this moment, but the panic made me crazy. I needed to have her, now, while I still had the chance.
I climbed up behind Elinor, straddling her body and squeezing her arse, enjoying the way her body shuddered under my touch. I grabbed her hips and yanked her back, impaling her on my cock with one solid thrust. I sighed as I slid into her warmth, enjoying her gasp of pleasure as my shaft touched at her this new angle.
I began to thrust into her, slowly at first, but then the fear and desire melded together inside of me, and I came at her with a ferocious passion. Elinor rose up to meet me, pushing back against every thrust. Her fingers clutched at the couch as she fought for purchase, and she made little mewling sounds in her throat as I drove her closer to orgasm.
Her back arched, as I thrust harder and deeper, wanting to drive her to orgasm. Her warmth enveloped my cock, sending a hot flame of desire through my whole body. My thighs slapped against hers as I dug my fingers into her soft skin and pulled her back against me.
Elinor glanced back over her shoulder, and her body began to shake. I felt her contract against me as she came on my cock. Seeing that beautiful face, her mouth open in ecstasy, her bow-lips moaning my name, sent me over the edge. My body shuddered with the force of my orgasm, and I cried out as I pumped into her. Elinor’s muscles clenched tighter, closing around me and milking me for everything I had.
When at last I was spent, I collapsed against the couch, relishing the way the upholstery scratched my bare skin. I never thought I’d be so glad to feel that horrid fabric, but it reminded me that I was solid, I was corporeal, and I was lying here next to the most incredible woman I’d ever met.
Elinor lay facing me, one arm cradled under her head, the other draped across her round, full breasts, her fingers lightly running down my arm. She blinked slowly, as if she was trying to see if I was still there when she opened her eyes.
I pulled Elinor toward me and turned her over, pressing her back against my stomach, relishing the way her body fit so snugly against mine. She sighed as she pulled my arms across her chest, wrapping them around her like a scarf against the chill.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered in her ear. “I didn’t mean to be a pig. I’m just terrified that any moment I’m going to fall through the couch, and this will be over, and I’ll never be able to touch you again.”
“Don’t be sorry,” she told me. “Just be ready again soon.”
“Your wish is my command.” I murmured against her earlobe, smothering her face in kisses.
Elinor
I woke hours later, wrapped in a thin throw rug from the sofa, my back warm from Eric’s touch. The curtains were still drawn, but the sky outside was dark, the moon illuminating a pale rectangular shadow across the flowered rug. Eric’s arms hung through my body, leaving a heat spot through the centre of my chest. Or perhaps that was my heart, beating a mile a minute now that I could fully contemplate what we’d done.
What we’d done, indeed. We had done it so many times, in so many positions. I never knew it was possible to have such fantastic sex for so long. I’d lost count of the number of orgasms I’d had. There wasn’t an inch of me Eric hadn’t ravished with his fingers or his tongue or his cock. We had been desperate, trying in vain to sate our lust for each other before he was once again a shade. But now the magic had worn off. He was Eric the ghost again, and I could no longer touch him. Our night of pleasure was over, and we had to face the cold reality.
I gazed down at Eric’s sleeping face, his eyes closed, his body relaxed and serene as he floated half inside the couch. And that was when it finally hit me. The enormity of what I’d done slammed into me like a freight train.
What have I done? Fear clung to me like a damp, icy blanket. I was involved with a dead guy. I wasn’t just physically involved. If I was honest with myself, (and lawyers always are. It’s the only way we can lie to so many other people), I liked him. I really liked him. In fact, I was dangerously close to falling completely, head over heels in love with Eric Marshell. I was setting myself up for the ultimate heartache.
You were already involved. Devil’s Advocate Elinor shot back. You’d already fallen for him, because you’re an idiot. But at least you got the most incredible fuck you’ve ever had out of it.
I leaned over and grabbed my phone off the table. The clock read 3:37am. The message icon glowed. I clicked on it. Allan had texted me yesterday evening, not long after he’d left the house. He was excited to pick me up for dinner at seven tomorrow. Or rather, tonight. My stomach turned, I felt sick. I pulled my body out from Eric’s warmth, and starting to scramble around for my clothing. Just staring down at my naked body made me feel filthy. I’d slept with a ghost. I was a pervert, a freak. I should be locked up.
“Where are you going in such a hurry?” Eric asked from the couch, his voice husky.
“I have to go,” I pulled my shirt over my head with such violence that a button pinged off and bounced across the floor.
“Come back to me, Elinor. It’s still dark. We’ve got plenty of time before the sun comes up.”
“No,” I squeezed my eyes shut, so I couldn’t see him lying here, his naked body beautiful in the moonlight as he hovered half inside the couch. I tugged my jeans over my feet. “I ca
n’t do this, Eric.”
“You’re running away, again?” His voice sounded sharper.
“Look at you!” I screeched, my voice jumping up two octaves. Eric glanced down and saw his torso disappearing through the rose-covered cushions. His expression said it all.
“I’m sure it’s just temporary.” Eric said, giving me a weak smile.
Rage flooded me—an anger born of the fear I felt at the possibility of caring for him. “I said I couldn’t do this. I gave you very specific instructions not to come near me, not to touch me, and you disobeyed. And now look what’s happened. We shouldn’t have done this, Eric, and you know it.”
“Hey, don’t you dare try to make out as if I took advantage of you,” Eric snapped back. He shot out of the couch and stood up to his full height, his feet hovering a few inches above the floor and his broad shoulders looming over me. The dragon on his tattoo seemed to undulate, its scales shimmering in the pale moonlight. “You were just as into it as I was. Or were you just so weak after you tenth orgasm you couldn’t push a weightless ghost off of you? I don’t exactly buy it.”
“Fuck you, Eric. You know what I meant.” My hands clenched into fists at my sides. My stomach felt heavy with a great lump of pain and rage. His words cut through me like a blade.
“No, fuck you, Elinor. This is getting ridiculous. I may be a ghost, but I have feelings. You’re hot and then you’re cold. You want me and then you pull away. After what happened here I thought—”
“Well, you thought wrong.” I grabbed my bra and underwear from under the end table and angrily balled them up as I turned to leave.
“Fine,” Eric yelled. “Run away again. I don’t care.”
I whirled back around to face him. “You can’t care. You’re dead you’re dead you’re dead!” I screamed the words at his face. Eric recoiled, as if I’d slapped him. The words echoed through the empty house, filling the dark corners with their ominous tones. Dead … dead … dead ...
The Man in Black: A Gothic Romance (Crookshollow Ghosts) Page 15
