Chapter 9 - Ghost
I can't believe this is happening.
I can’t believe I'm buried deep inside Debbie Wilson, watching her eyes flutter closed as I hit that perfect spot inside her, listening to the little gasps and moans she makes with every thrust. Can't believe that after twenty years of keeping everyone at arm's length, I'm letting myself feel this, letting myself want her in ways that go beyond the physical.
"Derek," she gasps, digging her nails into my shoulders. "Oh God, that's—"
I drive into her harder, angling my hips to hit that spot again and again, watching her face contort with pleasure.
She's fucking beautiful like this—skin flushed, hair spread across the pillow, mouth open in a silent scream of ecstasy.
Her pussy clenches around me, so tight and wet it's driving me insane.
I've never felt anything like it, never wanted anyone the way I want her.
"Look at me," I growl, needing to see her eyes when she comes apart. "I want to see you."
She forces her eyes open, and the connection between us is so intense it nearly stops my heart. There's trust there, and need, and something deeper that I'm not ready to name yet.
Her hands come up to frame my face, trembling with the effort of coordinating movement while I'm pounding into her. A smile curves her lips—the most genuine, beautiful thing I've ever seen.
"I want to get on top," she says, voice shaking with each thrust. "Want to ride you."
Jesus fucking Christ. The image of her above me, taking her pleasure, controlling the pace...
"Be my fucking guest," I tell her, unable to keep the growl from my voice. "Nothing I'd like more than watching you ride my cock."
A blush spreads across her cheeks at my words, but her eyes squint with desire. I pull out just long enough to flip our positions, settling her above me with her thighs straddling mine.
She takes a moment to adjust, and I nearly lose my mind watching her rub her slick pussy along the length of my cock, coating me in her wetness. The friction is incredible, perfect, but it's not enough. I need to be inside her again, need to feel her wrapped around me like she was made for me.
I grab my cock, positioning it at her entrance.
"Sit on it," I say, voice rough with need. "Need to be inside you again. Can't wait another fucking second."
"I love when you talk like that," she admits, looking almost shy despite the fact that she's naked on top of me, her pussy dripping wet against my cock. "No one's ever... no one's ever looked at me the way you do. Like I'm something they can't live without."
I place my hands on her hips, steadying her as she starts to sink down on me.
"Get used to it," I tell her, meaning every word. "Because I'm not letting you out of my sight. Going to cherish your heart and body for as long as you'll have me."
The smile that breaks across her face is like sunshine after a storm. "Then I'll have to show you how much I want that."
She starts to move, taking me deeper with each roll of her hips. She's slow at first, her legs trembling with the effort of holding herself up, but I guide her with my hands on her waist, showing her the rhythm that works for both of us.
Once she gets the hang of it, she grows bolder, moving faster, taking me deeper. She leans forward, changing the angle so my cock hits that spot inside her with every thrust, and the sound she makes—half moan, half sob—nearly makes me come on the spot.
She collapses against my chest, still moving her hips in tight circles that are driving me out of my fucking mind. Her lips find my neck, pressing soft kisses there between moans, and something inside me breaks loose.
When was the last time I felt like this? Safe, wanted, like I had permission to just exist in this moment without watching for threats or calculating exit strategies? When was the last time someone touched me like they wanted to know me, not just use me?
She's making me happy. Me, Ghost, the man everyone in Pine Haven crosses the street to avoid. The violence and danger that's been my constant companion for twenty years feels distant in this moment, pushed aside by the feeling of Debbie's skin against mine, her heart beating against my chest.
"I'm close," she whispers against my neck, and I can feel the wetness of tears on her cheeks. "So close, Derek."
I reach up to brush away the tears with my thumb, amazed at the tenderness I'm capable of with her. She tilts her head back, her body arching as she grips my shoulders tight enough to leave bruises, and then she's coming, her pussy clenching around me in waves that nearly push me over the edge too.
The sight of her… Eyes closed, mouth open in a silent scream, body tense with pleasure, is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I could watch her come a thousand times and never get tired of it.
Even after her orgasm subsides, she keeps moving, riding me with determination despite the way her thighs are trembling.
Her eyes are half-closed, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, and she's clutching the sheets on either side of me like they're the only things keeping her anchored to this world.
I can't hold back any longer. The combination of her tight pussy still fluttering around me, the visual of her taking her pleasure so openly, and the knowledge that this is Debbie—brave, beautiful Debbie who trusts me enough to be vulnerable like this—pushes me over the edge.
I place my hands behind my head, letting her set the pace as I feel my release build.
"Fuck, I'm gonna come," I grunt, hips jerking up to meet her movements.
She doesn't stop, doesn't slow down. Just watches my face with those enormous brown eyes as I empty myself inside her, my cock pulsing with each wave of pleasure. One, two, three jets of cum, filling her up, marking her as mine in the most primal way possible.
When it's finally over, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. "Shit, I should have warned you I was going to come inside you."
She lifts herself off me and collapses beside me, her head on my shoulder and one leg thrown over mine. "It's okay," she murmurs, pressing a kiss to my chest. "I loved feeling it. Like you were marking me as yours."
"I was," I tell her, the words coming out before I can think better of them. "Want you to be mine, Debbie. Want to take care of you and Tyler, make sure no one ever hurts either of you again."
She holds me tighter, like she's afraid I might disappear if she lets go. "Are you sure? I'm... I'm in the clouds right now, but you should know I'll have bad days. Days when I flinch if you move too fast, days when I cry for no reason."
"I'll have bad days too," I admit, running my fingers through her hair.
"Been hospitalized for PTSD more times than I care to count.
Because of things that happened at home, because of the military…
I'm better now, but with the war with the Vultures MC.
.. I might have episodes. Might shut down or get distant. "
"I understand," she says softly. "You don't have to tell me, but... those things that happened at home… is that why this is personal for you? Because your mother went through something similar?"
I bite my lip, clench my fist against the surge of anger that always comes when I think about my childhood. But Debbie deserves the truth if we're going to try to build something real.
"Yes," I say finally. "My father was... he hurt my mother.
For years. I ran away to the military as soon as I was old enough, and when I came back on leave after basic training, I was strong enough to fight back.
" I pause, remembering the sound of my father's bones breaking under my fists.
"I hurt him bad enough that he never came near her again, even after I deployed.
But she died a few years later, and I've always wondered if I could have saved her sooner. "
Debbie's hand finds mine, squeezing tight. "It wasn't your fault. You were a child, and then you were doing what you could."
"Maybe." I've had two decades to make peace with my past, and I'm still not sure I've managed it. "But I can do better now. For you and Tyler."
"We can support each other," she says. "If you're okay with that."
The idea is foreign to me. Mutual support, a partnership where vulnerability isn't weakness but strength.
"I've never had that," I admit. "Someone who understood. I might not be good at it at first, but I'll try."
I sit up, needing her to understand exactly what she's signing up for. "But Debbie, you need to know what you're getting into. I'm a violent man. What I did to David this morning? That's nothing compared to what I'm capable of."
She sits up too, meeting my gaze without flinching. "Do you enjoy it? The violence?"
"No," I say immediately, wanting her to understand this if nothing else. "Never. I do what needs to be done to protect people who can't protect themselves. That's all."
"Then there's nothing to worry about," she says simply. "I know you'll take care of us, and I know you'll always come back to me. Preferably not covered in blood."
I shake my head, amazed at how easily she accepts the darkest parts of me. "You're perfect, you know that? And I promise I'll never come to you bloody."
I pull her closer, suddenly needing to feel her against me again. "You should stay here for now, at the shelter. Until we deal with the Vultures MC. But after that..." I hesitate, not wanting to push too fast. "After that, I want to find a place for you. For us, if things work out."
"I'd like that," she says, tracing patterns on my chest with her fingertip. "Taking it slow will be important for Tyler, too. He already likes you, but stepdad is a whole different level."
Stepdad. The word repeats in my head. Never thought I'd be anyone's father figure, especially not after all the blood on my hands. But for Tyler… Bright, curious Tyler who just wants someone to teach him to play baseball and look at him like he matters, I'll try to be anything he needs.