Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
brETT
Jane Evangeline: Entry #15
It’s been weeks, and I haven’t heard from Maverick.
I have, however, heard from—and seen—Hudson. I know, I know. I should give him up. After all, there’s no more information I can get out of him. He’s no more help to me or to Maverick.
But Maverick isn’t here, and Hudson is.
Part of me thinks Maverick disappeared on purpose. That the kiss became too personal, and he realized what a bad idea involving me was.
I’m still holding out hope, though. Because without him, my story is all dried up.
In my downtime, I’ve been spending more and more time with Hudson. I often spend the nights at his place, waking in the warm embrace of his arms. He explained that the first time was his nerves kicking in—that he would normally have held me just like this instead of kicking me out so rudely.
Most nights, we sit up talking—or rather, I’m talking and he’s listening—and it feels so good to feel heard. I’ve shared all of my findings on the Sanctum with him, and he seems thrilled that I’ve made so much progress.
He’s even invited me on a weekend trip up north to see his ski lodge. I’m trying not to see too much into it, but I think he wants to make things official.
Now, the only thing I’ll have to figure out is getting an overnight sitter for Brett.
It’s been a week, and Ghost still won’t talk about what happened in that meeting. When I woke up after getting stabbed in the neck, I was pissed, ready to raise hell if I didn’t get some answers. But then, I saw the tiredness in his shoulders. Later that night, when he allowed me to remove his mask, I just couldn’t ask him about it. A few days later, I got up the courage and have been asking every day since, but despite my efforts, he still won’t tell me why he seems so damn… sad.
Sad is the word I came up with a few days ago when we sat in the library, our noses in matching books—he insisted. During a particularly dull chapter, I looked up to see him poring over the pages, those strange violet-rimmed eyes hungrily jumping from word to word. Only, the sheen you usually see in a living person’s gaze wasn't there. At that moment, when he thought I wasn’t looking, he let down that mask and let me see the real him.
And that’s another thing I’ve learned about Ghost. Even though he allows me to remove his mask when it’s the two of us, he never lets down the one he wears beneath it, the one that’s more than skin deep. Not until moments like these, when he’s utterly at peace, can I see the tortured soul screaming beneath. The hatred.
I groan aloud, causing Ghost to whip his head toward me, a worried look pinched between his brows.
“Brett? Are you hurting?”
“Not at all.” I shift on the bed, propping my head up with an arm while I look at him. The mornings when I get to catch slivers of his real self are my favorite part of the day. It slips through the cracks of his waking consciousness and brightens his eyes with a strange youthfulness, adding light to the shadows that normally reside there. He’s… he’s beautiful.
I used to find it strange to hear others refer to a man as beautiful, but looking at Ghost now, I finally understand what they were talking about. He’s so striking that it almost hurts to look at him. It’s against the laws of nature—someone so magnetic shouldn’t be allowed to exist on this earth. Yet here he is, holding me hostage in his lair by the sea.
“Do you ever think about what it would be like to die?”
Ghost bursts out laughing, one hand clutching his abdomen and his head thrown back. “Good morning to you, too, darling.”
“I’m serious,” I grumble, smacking his bare chest lightly with my palm. I run my fingers lightly over the whorls of pink scar tissue, then press my lips to the area I just hit. Ghost shudders from the touch, and his arms snake around my back, pulling me flush against his chest. I jerk my head up to look at him, my brows set in a deep frown. “Don’t you ever think about it?”
“Sweet, darling Brett. The sun is barely up.” He presses his lips to my forehead, a deep groan falling from his lips as he breathes me in.
I smack his chest again, shooting a glare up at him. “I’m not sweet.”
Ghost answers with a chuckle, his abdomen tightening against me. “Maybe not by societal standards, but I find you sweet.”
“I think your perspective is a little fucked.”
Another laugh. God, he sounds so sexy like that. And holy shit—are those dimples? I’m only a woman. I can only be so strong for so long.
Ghost nuzzles the top of my head with his chin, shaking lightly with the aftermath of his laughter. “Perhaps. But you like that about me, sweet Brett.”
I roll my eyes, earning me a hand slap on my ass. “The only time I’ll be okay with you calling me sweet is if you’re on your deathbed or something. And even then, would you really lie to me like that?”
Ghost shakes with a laugh he holds inside, his pale eyes bright as he gazes down at me. “You’re such a strange little thing, Brett Evangeline. I’m honored that the fates allowed me to come into your life.”
My chest squeezes with some all-consuming emotion, and I break our eye contact as the tingles in my fingertips turn to numbness. “So… about that whole dying thing. Thoughts?”
Ghost shakes his head, a strange little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Persistent thing.” He grips me even harder, holding my head to him with his chin. “I think that when my time comes, I will enter the nothingness happily, knowing I had this time here with you.”
Oh shit.
My face heats, and I’m grateful Ghost can’t see my face right now. If he could, he would see right through me, see the lies I’m hiding behind. As he’s gazing at me, another question enters my mind. Something I’ve often wondered but never felt brave enough until this moment to ask.
“What is it that you feel when I touch you?” I ask, running my fingertips lazily over each crest and dip of the scar tissue on his hand.
“I think it would be better if I showed you.”
He gets up reluctantly, frowning at the loss of touch. He stalks over to the golden dresser on the far wall, pressing his wrist to a small compartment in the very top drawer. When he turns back to me, he’s gripping a thick, elongated glass wand in his hand, paired with a devious smirk.
“Wh-what’s that?” I breathe, staring wide-eyed at the strange bulbous tip.
He presses a button on the side that has the device whirring to life, the purple neon glow casting dark shadows along Ghost’s face.
“It’s a violet wand,” he rasps, raking his eyes over my body as he stalks closer. “I’m going to give you a taste of the electricity I feel every time you touch me.”
He stops when his thighs hit the foot of the mattress, staring down with an electric sheen in his pale eyes. “Turn around. Face down. I want that pretty pink pussy spread for me.”
I swallow hard, turning my head sideways and pressing my cheek against the mattress as I shift my ass in the air. A wave of embarrassment flows through me as a cold gust brushes my bare pussy, but it’s quickly replaced by pleasure as Ghost presses his tongue to me. He laps me greedily as a moan pours from my mouth, urging him on further. Just as I’m getting there, he pulls away, and I can’t help the whine that fills the room.
“Shh,” he murmurs, placing soft kisses along my lower spine. “If you keep being a brat, I’ll shove the wand down your throat instead of your pussy. Understand?”
I nod, a squeak falling from my lips as he smacks his palm hard against my ass. “Good girl. Now, just relax.”
My legs quiver in anticipation as that buzzing sound grows louder. He brings the wand close enough to raise the hair on the back of my thigh but pulls away just before it makes contact with my skin. He repeats this process until I’m a dripping, desperate mess—the small dark puddle on the sheets below me serving as a testament.
“Just—just do it already,” I rasp, going so far as to push my ass back toward the wand, desperate to have a taste of the pain.
In answer, Ghost brings his palm down several more times on my ass, the tireless slaps mixing with my cries and drowning out the buzzing of the wand. I take in a gasping breath when he finally ceases, my eyes rolling back as waves of pleasure and pain flow from the swollen, aching skin. I’m so lost in the feeling that I nearly scream when he touches the wand to the back of my thigh.
Hot, fluttering tingles radiate from the place the tip touches, causing the surrounding muscles to spasm in a wonderful, pulsating wave of pain and pleasure. I don’t get to appreciate it for long, though, because as soon as my pussy spasms, Ghost pulls the wand away. I cry out at the loss of sensation, shoving my hips back in a demanding motion.
“P-please,” I gasp, gyrating my hips shamelessly in an attempt to coax him back. “Please. I want more.”
“Such a greedy little thing,” he murmurs, placing the tip millimeters from my skin in that torturous way of his. “I would have bound you before I started if I knew you were going to be this insatiable.”
“Please, Ghost!” I beg, turning my head to look at him with wide, pleading eyes. This was a mistake—three more resounding slaps accompany my whimpers, and I fight the urge to reach back and nurse my aching ass.
“You are mine, Brett,” he growls, pressing the wand lightly to my skin and sending throbbing waves to and from my core. “You are mine to play with, mine to pleasure. Mine to torture,” he snarls, sliding the tip of the wand through my folds. I scream at the intense throbbing, sucking sensation, so unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. My pussy quivers, contracting in time to the waves of pleasure flowing from that strange neon wand.
“Fuck!” I cry, arching my head back toward the ceiling as the pleasure crests, sending tendrils of electricity through my veins, licking every muscle and pleasure point in my body.
“That’s it, darling. Fucking come for me. Show me what a desperate little slut you are for pain.” Ghost moves the wand up, pressing it against my asshole, and I come undone. My legs give out from under me as the most intense orgasm of my life courses through me. Stars spark behind my eyes as that prickling, buzzing sensation spreads to my fingertips, heating my skin everywhere that electric fire touches.
“Fuck. Me.” I lie sprawled on the mattress, quivering slightly as the aftermath courses through me.
“Gladly,” Ghost murmurs, crouching behind me and pressing against my ass. A zipper undoing fills the room, and a moment later, the head of Ghost’s cock pushes against my entrance. I try to shift back, but Ghost puts a hand on my back, holding me down to the mattress. “Don’t. Fucking. Move.”
A whimper tumbles from my lips as he works his head between my folds, using his hand to coat the rest of his length in my arousal. I gasp as he pushes inside me, filling me so completely that my eyes water.
I cry out as he moves in me, rubbing against my walls in all the right ways. He lets out a choking noise, his body quivering from the effort to go slow. I’m about to tell him it’s okay when that same buzzing from earlier fills the room, and like Pavlov’s dog, my pussy drips at the sound.
“I think I found someone’s favorite new toy,” Ghost murmurs, running the wand in a delicate circle eight around my ass. My muscles quiver from the sensation, and paired with Ghost’s cock in my pussy, it’s almost too much to bear. My eyes roll back as another orgasm builds, and I hold on desperately to the feeling, wishing I could live on the edge of this euphoria for the rest of my life.
Ghost presses the wand to my puckered asshole, and I cry out, my body trying and failing to clench against the intrusion. My muscles slacken, quivering around the gentle flow of electricity delivered to the area, and the bulbous tip slips inside me.
A deep, suckling sensation spreads deep inside me, licking each one of my nerve ends and sending my eyes to the back of my skull. It's a pleasure I’ve never known, a high that could never be replicated. At least, I think that until Ghost slips his arm under my stomach and places a thinner-tipped wand against my clit.
I’m not sure where it came from, but I’m not going to complain—not when the most earth-shattering euphoria is currently running through my veins. Ghost moves steadily in me, keeping his strokes long and agonizingly slow as the wands thrum in time, sending heavenly tingles down my spine.
“You take my cock so well, Brett.” Ghost leans down, nipping my shoulder. “You’re so beautiful like this. Drooling, mindless, begging for a taste of the pleasure only I can give you.” He angles his hips up, and when he thrusts into me the next time, the head of his cock presses in a spot that has my toes curling. He finds that spot again and again until I can’t remember my own name. All I am is a woman who wants to come on Ghost’s cock, and I can’t fucking stop.
“That’s a good girl. Fucking soak me, Brett,” Ghost whispers, his hips picking up pace as my walls collapse around him. A scream pours from my lips as my body convulses, every thought, feeling, and desire lost to the pleasure cresting in my veins.
“Fuck, Brett. You’re going to make me come,” Ghost groans, pumping in and out of me erratically with his head thrown back. His abs strain, glistening sweat coating his skin and bringing out the deep divots of his muscles.
With one last thrust, his hips meet mine, and his cock throbs deep in me. “Oh fuck, Brett,” Ghost groans, staring me deep in the eyes as he empties every last drop in me. When we’ve both come down, he holds my face in his palms, pressing delicate kisses across my cheekbones as his cock softens inside me.
“You’re the best drug I ever had, Brett,” Ghost murmurs, leaning down and nibbling my bottom lip. “I’m a junkie. I can’t live without you now.”
I laugh, slapping a hand weakly against his shoulder. He grabs my wrist, bringing the back of my hand to his lips and placing a kiss there. My eyelids lower as a lazy smile breaks across my face, and the responsive smirk on his squeezes my heart.
“You love kissing me.” It’s not a question, but Ghost nods gravely all the same.
“It is one of my favorite things.”
“ One of.”
His eyes light with a devious glint. “I’m more than willing to go for a third round if you want me to remind you of the other.”
I giggle, swatting him again when he leans down and takes my earlobe between his teeth. Ghost lets out a growl, raking his teeth against my skin as he pulls away. “I literally don’t think I would survive another round tonight,” I say, looking down at his already hardening cock. Though it looks like that only applies to one of us.
“I can be patient,” Ghost says, though the pout on his face doesn’t seem like he’s too happy about it. I laugh, patting the mattress next to me and climbing into his lap when he takes a seat at the head of the bed. I close my eyes, satisfied hums falling from my lips as Ghost runs his fingers through my hair, de-knotting and massaging my scalp.
“Rest, darling,” he murmurs, placing a kiss against my forehead. “I’ll keep you safe.”
I nod against him, sleep already curling its fingers into me. As I drift off, I swear Ghost says something else—something like I always will.
But when I think back to it later, I’m sure it must have been a dream.