Chapter Twenty #2
My pulse climbed into my throat. “You.”
His eyes darkened. “Lai, you’re hurt.”
“I am bruised. Exhausted. Extremely irritated by the condition of my coat.” I slid my hand behind his neck and brought his mouth close to mine. “I am also perfectly capable of deciding what I want, and I want you to take care of me.”
Ghost’s hand rose to cup my jaw, thumb brushing beneath the cut on my lip.
He kissed me.
The first touch was tender, his mouth warm against mine, but I had not asked for tenderness. I caught his lower lip between my teeth and pulled until the kiss deepened, tasting rain, shadow and the coppery trace of my split lip. Ghost’s tongue moved against mine, patient and thorough.
His hand slid into my wet hair, while the other tightened around my waist. He lifted me easily, and my back met his hood, but Ghost lowered me carefully, keeping one arm beneath my shoulders until I was safely stretched across the warm metal, my hair spilled over the chipped white paint.
My legs draped down over the grille; Ghost caught my injured one beneath the knee and arranged it over his hip, taking its weight.
The position spread me out beneath the harsh lights, my lovely red coat fallen open and my wet black shirt clinging to my chest.
Ghost stared down at me with hunger in his face, unmistakable and fierce. He touched my cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Tell me if I hurt you wrong.”
The distinction tightened my throat. I nodded.
Only then did he lean over me. His mouth returned to mine, slower than before.
He kissed the cut in my lip instead of avoiding it, licking away the blood when it reopened.
One of his powerful hands supported the back of my neck while the other remained beneath my thigh, keeping my injured leg safe as he pressed between my legs.
I slid both hands over his shoulders, embracing his shadow, warm and hard beneath my palms, exploring him. When my fingers traveled down his spine, the engine turned over and settled into a trembling idle, the hood vibrating beneath my body.
I pulled him down and kissed him until I couldn’t breathe.
Ghost’s mouth left mine and moved along my jaw. He kissed the bruised skin carefully, then found the pulse beneath my ear and dragged his tongue over it. His teeth closed there, with enough pressure to send heat down my spine.
My hips lifted against him, and the hood gave a hollow, metallic complaint.
Ghost understood. He opened my shirt one button at a time, parting the fabric until my chest was exposed to the cold underground air.
His gaze moved over the bruises, and the hunger in his face softened as he bent to kiss each mark.
His lips moved across my ribs, gentle where the flesh had darkened, rougher where I remained unhurt.
When he reached my sternum, his tongue traced the shallow hollow there before his mouth closed over one nipple.
My fingers tightened in his hair.
He sucked slowly, teeth grazing until my back arched from the hood. The engine surged beneath me.
“Ghost…”
His hand moved down my stomach. He opened my trousers carefully, easing the ruined fabric over my hips, working them gradually down over my injured leg.
The care might have embarrassed me if desire had not already burned away most of my dignity.
When he stood between my thighs again, I reached for him.
He caught my wrist. “No.” He shook his head.
“No?”
He lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed the center of my palm. “You asked me to take care of you. Let me.”
I lowered my hands to the hood, and Ghost chuckled.
“There you go, darlin’,” He teased before his mouth covered mine.
His hand traveled down my chest and stomach, tracing the lines of my body until his fingers finally closed around my cock; the first firm stroke tore a shameless moan from my throat, treacherously exposing just how badly I needed him.
Ghost studied my blushing face as he touched me slowly, his thumb moving over the sensitive head of my cock, spreading the gathering beads of precum over it before his hand tightened on the downward stroke.
My breath caught. He kissed me again as he continued, swallowing each sound his hand drew from me.
His engine’s idle deepened, the vibration moving through my spine, relaxing every aching muscle as my hips began to follow his rhythm.
Ghost’s free hand settled firmly against my stomach, holding me to the hood. “Stay still.”
“You can’t ask that while touching me like this,” I whined.
Ghost rolled his eyes, his smile fading and changing into something hungry and wicked as he lowered himself between my thighs; the sight of him there sent a sharper pulse of desire through me than his hand had managed.
His firm hands changed their grip once more; the one supporting my injured leg moved, pulling my thighs over his shoulders, while the other spread across my hips, holding me in place.
Then his mouth closed around my cock and the back of my head struck the hood. Ghost took me in slowly, tongue moving with patient pressure along the underside before he drew me deeper.
His eyes never left mine.
“Oh, fuck–” The sound that left me was too raw to resemble language.
There was something obscene in the contrast between his expression and what he was doing; he looked almost peaceful, entirely focused upon my pleasure, his mouth reducing me to a breathless, trembling mess.
My fingers slid into his hair; he took me deeper, his mouth working until my thighs tightened around him.
Pleasure gathered low in my abdomen, sharpened by exhaustion and the faint ache of every injury.
His tongue circled slowly before his lips closed again.
The hand spanning my hips slipped lower, stroking between my thighs, opening and preparing me with extraordinary care.
His finger pressed inside me, his inhuman, shadowy nature making the motion smooth, with no need for anything to ease the friction.
The stretch was slow, gentle enough to be maddening.
He worked me open while his mouth continued, and a second finger joined the first, curling until he found the place that sent a violent pulse through my body.
My hand clenched in his hair.
He did it again. My vision blurred.
The music pounded around us, the synthesizer mingling with the increasingly ragged sound of my breathing. Beneath everything, Ghost’s engine rumbled with pleasure of his own.
Just when I thought I couldn’t last any longer, Ghost’s mouth slowly released me. He climbed onto his hood until his body covered mine, one hand braced beside my head, the other still supporting my leg, care in every merciless touch. His forehead rested against mine. “Tell me what you need.”
“I need you,” I pleaded. “I need you to make me forget how much everything hurts.”
Ghost kissed me again as he positioned himself, before blunt pressure met my entrance.
The first stretch burned, deep and intense, but his mouth lingered against mine and his hand stroked and squeezed my thigh until the tension eased.
He gave me every inch gradually, allowing my body to adjust before moving farther, his forehead pressed to mine, his breathing rough.
I could feel the strain of his restraint in every part of him.
I rolled my hips, playful and inviting; he withdrew slowly, then pressed back inside. The angle sent pleasure through me in a long, heavy wave. My hands tightened around his shoulders.
His pace remained deep and controlled.
Too controlled.
“Harder,” I whispered.
Ghost’s jaw tightened. “Lai.”
“I asked you to make me forget.”
Ghost kissed me with sudden, desperate hunger and drove into me harder. The hood shifted beneath our weight. His engine surged, and my cry disappeared into his mouth.
He did it again.
The force pushed my body across the warm metal. He held my hip and pulled me back to meet every thrust, filling me deeply enough to erase everything except the sensation of him.
My body tightened around him; Ghost felt it and shifted his angle, driving directly against the place his fingers had found earlier. Pleasure struck sharply, and the next thrust tore his name from my mouth.
Ghost held the rhythm, one hand stroking me while he drove into me with deep, relentless force.
My nails dragged down his back as climax seized me; my entire body tightened, pleasure breaking through me in hard waves as I came across Ghost’s hand and my own stomach.
He continued moving through it, slower now, drawing out every shudder until I could no longer distinguish pleasure from pain.
Ghost buried himself deeply one more time, his hips pressing tight against mine as he came. His engine roared beneath us, the sound rolling through the garage while his forehead dropped to my shoulder, just as dazed as I was.
For several moments, neither of us moved. The tape continued playing, the bass of a dance track matching the rapid thundering of my pulse, until a particularly offensive synthesizer shriek cut through the silence.
Startled laughter escaped me. At first, it was only a weak tremor beneath Ghost’s weight.
Then it grew until my ribs protested and I was forced to press one hand against my side.
Ghost laughed with me, the sound rough with exhaustion.
For a moment, we listened to the engine beneath us and music filling the garage before he gently released me to climb higher onto the hood, settling beside me, one of his arms wrapping around my shoulders as I rested against his chest.
Pain returned gradually as the pleasure receded. My leg throbbed. My ribs ached. My scalp had resumed stinging. I shifted, wincing.
Ghost stroked my hair. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just feel around five hundred years old,” I laughed quietly.
Ghost smiled. His thumb brushed beneath my eye, wiping away blood or sweat; I couldn’t tell which.
“Funny,” he said. “For the first time in a long time, I feel young again.”