9. Chapter 9
Chapter 9
Derek
T he second her dress falls to the floor, my dick is twitching in my jeans, begging for her body and the release I know she can give me.
Her eyes flicker with a grin that tugs at her ruby-red lips. Her eyes are hidden in a golden mask that matches her lace panty set. She slips out of her heels and slowly makes her way towards me, her eyes traveling up and down my body before she pulls my jacket off my shoulders.
Her lips taste of cinnamon and spice when her tongue slides against mine, sparking the craving my body feels for her from my very core. My hands explore her body, every stunning curve, as I unhook her bra in one swift move before she pushes me against the bed, straddling my hips.
“So eager,” she purrs, feathering kisses down my neck as her hands unbutton my shirt, revealing the hardened muscles underneath.
“You would be too if I was as naked as you,” I grin.
“Why don’t we fix that then?”
She pushes herself off just enough to unbuckle my belt while I let them fall to the floor, abandoned along with the rest of her clothes. She bites her lip when she sees the growing size of my bulge still contained in my boxers. She climbs back into my lap, her hand rubbing against the throbbing size, begging for more as precum leaks from me. I groan at her touch as her grinding hips replace her hand.
“Are you going to fuck me?” she asks with a playful grin.
“Not just fuck you,” I grin, pushing her onto her back. “I’m going to make you scream my name first.”
Her nails dig into my back as my lips meet hers, devouring her with kisses I could easily get drunk on. I slide my hands down her tummy, dipping my fingers inside her panties, soaked with arousal as I rub her clit. She arches her back at the sensation, then grinds her hips down into my touch.
“Oh, fuck,” she moans, biting down on her lip as her nails dig into my arm.
keep my pace, waiting for her to get closer to her orgasm, but just until she’s right on the edge. When she’s begging for me to let her finish, I pull away, and the betrayal in her masked eyes only makes me grin.
“I really want to taste you,” I say as I pull her panties off her hips and push her knees apart so I can settle between them. “I want you to cum on my tongue.”
“Just make me cum,” she begs. “I just wanna cum for you.”
“Good girl,” I purr before devouring her sweet pussy.
I already have her writhing in the bed as my tongue leaves no spot untouched. As my tongue flicks over her clit, my fingers tease her entrance before pushing further inside, curling in slow, steady motions until she’s gripping the sheets.
“Oh, god, I’m going to cum… please, please,” she gasps right when I feel her pussy tightening around my fingers.
Relentlessly, I made her orgasm, watching as it rips through her, not once, but twice, as I don’t let up on finger fucking her. I won’t stop until she’s begging me to, and her body is left in a trembling mess.
I slide my boxers off, freeing my dick that’s itching to slide inside her knowing how easily it’ll slide in because she’s still dripping.
But the dream is shattered when I see the woman’s mask has fallen, and it’s not Chelsea like I imagined it would be, but Faith, lying in my bed, consumed in a pleasure I gave her myself.
“What the fuck?” I push myself back towards the foot of the bed.
I wake with a jolt when I realize I’m in my bedroom, the other side of my bed cold and empty, just like it usually is. But to my own disgust, I’m still hard for her, for Faith, who I still can’t believe I dreamed of in that way. Guilt soon follows, and I can’t help but feel like I’ve betrayed Chelsea’s memory by doing so.
Leave it to guilt to keep the trip going when I fall back asleep, only to find myself in the driver’s seat in the lookout spot with Chelsea by my side.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper to her, but her eyes shift from the night’s view to me. And she’s smiling. Why is she smiling?”
“For having a dream of another woman? I keep telling you to find someone new, but you won’t listen. But then again, what do I know? I’m dead,” she chuckles.
“It’s not that simple,” I reply. “Faith, she…”
“Needs you just as much as you need her,” she says. “The sooner you accept that the happier you’ll be. And I want you to be happy again. You have no idea how much it hurts me to see you stuck like this.”
“I’m holding myself together.”
“You’re hanging on by a thread, and you know it,” she argues.
“Well, when you put it that way.”
“I need you to promise me something,” she says, her hand gently caressing my face, but I can barely feel her touch.
“Name it.”
“Find someone to love the way you loved me,” she says with a familiar tenderness. “Find someone who brings you peace, who knows how to love you, who feels like home.”
“I don’t know if I can do that,” I admit. “You were already all those things; I could never find them in anyone else.”
“I’ll give you a little help then. Start with Faith,” she insists. “All you have to do is reach out.”
“Baby, I don’t know if–”
“Just try,” she pleads. “For me. Just reach out and try.”
“I’ll do what I can,” I sigh. I want to stay here longer, but when she brings her lips to mine, reality creeps in again.
This time, when I wake, the sunrise light is just starting to break through my windows. My alarm has yet to go off, but there’s no point in trying to go back to sleep when I know what’s there waiting for me—either a messed-up fantasy or a guilt trip from the dead.
I know it’s my subconscious doing this to me, that it’s not Chelsea from beyond the grave, but damn it, why can’t I stop dreaming of Faith this way? It’s not like I ever had a thing for her in the past. I never so much as looked at another woman once I found Chelsea, so how does it make sense? Am I really that lonely? Am I so desperate for human connection that I would let myself fall for someone I swore never to forgive?