My head spins with the brush strokes his filthy talk paints in my mind. I never dreamed of my first time being the way he describes, I imagined it sweet and tender and slow with someone…real? But, that’s all gone now, I want this. Him. Ghost or not.
“Ah…” I moan and open my eyes, even in the dim moonlight I see him staring at me, the glint of white teeth shimmering through an evil grin, the pleasure beginning to roll through me. Tension tightens every muscle, there’s suddenly no air and his lips are at my ear.
“Now, sweet Delia. Give it to me now.”
His finger moves faster, my hand on his, rubbing in quick circles as a tingling starts in my toes and before I can draw a breath, it shoots upward, exploding in my center as I feel the pinch of teeth on my neck. In a sudden gush, every worry and fear I’ve ever had release into the warm air, the orgasm rips through me, leaving me spinning and boneless on the enormous, soft bed.
“Now. Say you’re mine. Because you already know you are.”
I’m barely able to think, let alone speak, but his words wind through me like vines; small, but powerful enough to pull down a fortress.
“Say it.” His face is above mine now, his fingers slipping from inside me as he brings them up to paint my wet release on my lips.
“I’m yours,” I whisper, every cell in my body tingling as the dreamy feeling covers everything in a softness and I don’t want it to be over.
“Good girl.” Those two words make me shiver. The same voice, the same cadence as I heard them the other two times when no one was there. “Now, I’m going to have a taste.”
His warm lips cover mine, softer this time as he groans and his tongue traces each lip, the heady scent and taste of my flavor blending into our kiss.
“More,” he rumbles, pulling his face from mine, and I swallow hard as he stands, reaching down and tugging my panties down my legs. Instead of tossing them across the room, he folds them in half and sets them on the nightstand like they are some priceless treasure, not to be disrespected. “Arms up,” he orders, coming back and pulling my crop t-shirt off, and doing the same thing with it. Folding it into a perfect square and setting it with a sort of reverence on top of my underwear.
His palm comes down and runs over my nipple, back and forth, before his fingers close around the soft flesh and his mouth is on mine again. He wrestles his tongue with mine and although I’ve kissed a few times before, they were nothing like this. It’s true, I have limited experience with all things male, but right now, in this dream, none of that seems to matter.
He releases my mouth, turning his gaze down to his hand on my breast. He rasps his fingers over the hard nipple, making me hiss as his eerie, shimmering blue eyes meet mine, watching my reaction as he moves from one to the other, tracing the hard tip of my nipple so softly. Spinning and running the pads of his fingers over the hard nub until it becomes so sensitive I buck and twist my head wildly on the pillow.
“Pleasure comes in many forms.”
His fingers pinch down hard, sending a jolt deep inside me and I’m on the verge of another orgasm. He gives me a knowing look and that hint of a smile again as I contract and release my inner muscles.
“Patience, my sweet. All good things…” His eyes trace up and down my naked body, his breaths growing faster, harder. “You are more perfect than I could have imagined.”
“Who are you?” I manage. “I want to know so I can find you again. Are you the man from the painting?”
“All you need to know is I will never be far.” He releases my breasts, then pulls me along with him as he takes a seat on one of the throne-like chairs in the center of the room. “Turn and sit,” he orders as he pats his lap. “I’m not going to claim that sweet cherry of yours tonight, but I do want to see how you would ride my cock if I allowed it.”
This is so not me, standing here naked in front of a man I don’t even know, ready to climb onto his lap and dry hump him in the middle of the night.
Thank God for this dream…that’s my last thought as I spread my legs, moving my bent knees to either side of his hips, and as soon as my bare pussy feels the steel fullness behind his zipper, I’m on the edge.
I buck and grind as he runs his hands up and down my back in a soft, paternal sort of way, which only seems to feed my frenzy. I fall against his chest, half whimpering as I arch and ride the swollen thickness, pushing myself toward the finish.