Chapter 6 Haunted Halls
Chapter six
Haunted Halls
Cian
If I wasn’t already dead, the past twenty-four hours would have convinced me that Trissa Wilde would be the death of me.
If nothing else, she must have been sent by the universe to tempt and test me.
I hate to report that if that is the case, I’m going to fail miserably.
After the ‘incident’ last night, I spent the rest of my night pacing the attic, trying to convince myself that I should stay away from her.
That I didn’t deserve to watch her or be around her after what I did…
but in the end as soon as I sensed she was awake I was already phasing through the floor.
I never took liberties like that when I was alive, and I hate myself for not being absolutely certain my advances were wanted.
So what does it say about me that I still can’t give this woman the space I think she deserves?
The thought of hurting her makes me sick, but I’m becoming less and less convinced that I wouldn’t exploit any opportunity that presents itself, no matter how wicked.
I groan with indecision as I reach the sitting room and see her smiling and stroking the blanket I gave her.
Jealousy flares in my gut and I chew on the inside of my cheek, annoyed.
Great, now I’m jealous of a blanket. My body is urging me to her, like a magnet being pulled to her against my will, but I fight it.
The tension from doing so feels like a rubber band stretched a little too far, but it’s manageable.
I breathe a sigh of relief and watch her go about her morning, admiring how gorgeous she looks walking around my house.
The thought of her living her life within these walls fills me with a sick sort of satisfaction that I choose not to examine too closely.
I watch her from the corner of the room, smiling when she twirls around, her joy lighting my own soul on fire in a way that I’d long lost hope of ever feeling.
I rub my chest as she prances into the kitchen rounding up her things, but when she pulls out her phone her face pinches into an expression that makes me frown.
I float over as she starts swearing—using words that have a flush staining the tips of my ears and my eyebrows raising to my hairline in admiration.
What a wonderfully filthy mouth. I groan as that innuendo conjures images of her pretty pink lips around my cock. I need to get a grip.
She fiddles around on her phone as I float just behind her, careful not to get too close.
Guilt at further invading her privacy makes me pause, but I decide quickly that keeping my hands to myself is enough retribution.
I grimace as I read through her messages.
I can hardly understand the texts from Kyle, but between what I read and her reaction to it I can take a guess as to what happened.
Rage simmers through my form like ripples on a lake and I glare at the phone, silently urging her to use some of that stronger, more colorful vocabulary as she lays into him.
I’m secretly a little grateful that this Kyle idiot is doing the work of getting rid of himself for me.
I may still be conflicted about how to proceed with Trissa, but now that I’ve claimed her, no one will touch her but me.
Trissa takes off down the hall and I follow behind her as she goes, watching her admire things that lost their shine for me long ago.
The rubber-band tension doesn’t lessen as time passes, but I don’t care.
I’ll take that small bit of discomfort if it means I can allow myself to be around her.
Don’t get me wrong, I still want to touch her.
Every time she reaches out to run her fingers along something in appreciation I picture them on my bare flesh instead.
By the time she makes it to the stairs I’m sporting a throbbing erection, the band on my control feeling like it may snap at any moment.
I take in a shaky breath and float closer, hovering right behind her, and reach out a hand.
I carefully trace a line in the air down her back, barely an inch from actually touching her.
She shivers slightly and I force myself to move back a few paces.
As she looks around she pulls her full bottom lip into her mouth and bites down and I feel my eyes roll back in my head as I reach out to adjust my now painfully hard cock.
When I open my eyes they land on her peaked nipples and I start to pant.
I need to get the fuck out of here before I do something I’ll regret.
Just as I start to force myself away, Trissa speaks.
“If you’re going to tease me you should know I enjoy a bit of delayed gratification, but usually only after learning someone’s name.”
I freeze, unsure of what to do. I want to talk to her, sweet lord, I want to talk to her, but now that she’s waiting on me I can’t think of anything to say.
Nerves have me paralyzed and before I can break the silence she scowls and starts making her way upstairs.
Great, now I’ve pissed her off. A small whine escapes me and I follow behind her again with my shoulders slumped, like a dog on a leash.
At least that disaster of an almost interaction deflated my boner.
As we reach the top of the stairs I let out a deep breath, not realizing how close to Trissa I’ve floated.
She looks back, staring right into my eyes and I stop.
Time stops, everything stops… and just like that all my noble intentions go right out the window.
The moment is over before I can act but I’m not ready to have it end.
I reach out a hand intending to stop her and a gust of air shoots out of my palm.
I stumble for a split second because I’ve never been able to do that before, but when it’s clear that Trissa can feel the air, I grin.
A smile as cheeky as any from the Cheshire cat spreads across my face and I quickly stick out my palm again, willing the air to keep coming.
Trissa is looking for a bathroom, and I know exactly which room I want her in. Mine.
She looks slightly annoyed, but goes in the direction I’m trying to guide her and excitement courses through me.
Good girl. When we get to the door of my room I mentally bid the air to stop and it does.
I look at my hands and smile. I can work with this.
Trissa walks into my room and the moment she does I choke, because it’s all I can do not to picture her laid out on my bed like a fucking feast. I lick my lips and can almost taste her on my tongue again.
I’m pulled from my increasingly inappropriate fantasies when she reaches the bed, eyes wide with wonder, and speaks to me… again.
“Is this room mine, then?” Her smile is hopeful and it’s so fucking adorable that I want to scream ‘yes’ at the top of my lungs.
But I don’t. Instead, I raise my hand and send some air at her in the direction of the bathroom.
She knows this is where I want her, and now she’s found what she was originally looking for.
Double win. I watch with a smile as she squeals and clambers into the tub with her clothes on.
I float over to her as she says something about points and watch as she leans her head back, exposing her neck.
Her eyes are closed and I keep my body as far away as possible as I float in to lick at the creamy column of her neck.
She moans and it goes straight to my cock.
In a flash I pull away and float back toward the door, cursing myself as I go.
Trissa climbs out of the tub and walks back toward me and the bag she dropped when she came in.
Her sultry voice fills the air around me, taunting me, and I breathe deep trying to capture any trace of her intoxicating scent.
She’s playing with fire now, egging me on, and as she reveals her beautiful breasts I can’t stop myself from lunging forward tracing a hand over her chest, careful not to actually touch her skin.
I want to bury myself in the valley of her breasts.
I want to fucking suffocate in them, which oddly enough is even more appealing when you know doing so can’t kill you. A perk of being already dead.
She tells me that she wants me to make her scream my name the next time she’s in that bath and I groan.
Gods, I want that too. I want it now. I lean in trying like hell not to get too close, and blow a quick breath against her neck.
A promise. She starts to laugh and I watch in fascination as her mirth jiggles those bountiful breasts.
I feel the rubber band getting ready to snap and irritation at myself courses through me in a wave.
The lights flicker with my mood and I once again force myself to retreat to the attic.
The day passes by in a blur of activity as the movers come and go and I watch Trissa set about starting to unpack and make phone calls.
She seems to be in a good mood through most of it, and I relax into the corner.
Spectating is so natural to me now that this simple act makes me feel less on edge for the first time in months.
I let out a sarcastic grunt. Cian the spectating specter!
Ugh. I’ve played back different scenarios a million times in my head now, wishing I would have just spoken up when she tried to talk with me earlier.
The little voice in my mind judging my performance (or lack thereof) is a derisive arse.
I’m working against the pit of nerves in my stomach, trying to build up the courage to interact with her again (and wondering for the millionth time if doing so would be a terrible idea), when I sense a presence I assume is Seth coming from my attic.
I take a deep breath and blow it out as I glance longingly at Trissa before phasing upstairs to greet my new friend.