Page 9 of Restless Spirits

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“Do you want to tell me what happened back there?”

“I’m not sure. I thought we could research the ballroom or any strange experiences guests might have had while dining.” Demi sank down onto the bed and grabbed the book bag that held her laptop.

“Let’s boot up and dive in then, partner.” Pierce grinned.

“Aye, aye, Captain.” She saluted.

* * * *

“Well, one thing’s for sure, you aren’t the only one who’s experienced something strange in the ballroom,” Pierce said some time later.

“No kidding.” Demi shut her laptop and stretched her arms above her head, arching her back. Closing her eyes, she rolled her neck. They’d scoured the net and found hundreds of accounts, many of them in the ballroom.

“This is supposed to be a relaxing trip.” The bed dipped. Pierce moved over to kneel behind her. He placed a hand on her neck, and she moaned in relief as his warmth seeped into her stiff muscles as he began a slow massage. “We have three more days and two nights here. There’s no rush to figure everything out tonight.” She leaned back into the solid wall of his chest and bit her lip to keep the whimper building in her throat quiet. Moisture pooled inside her panties. She rubbed her thighs together to relieve the mounting tension. Her nipples hardened. He moved his large hands down to her shoulders. Putty in his hands, she relaxed against him, purring like a cat.

“You like that, Demi?”

“Mhmm.”

“Can’t have you all tensed up before bed.” He moved closer. His warm breath caressed her neck. She curled her fingers into her jeans to stay grounded. His words from earlier echoed in her mind. He pressed up against her and moved his magical fingers down her arms.

“Hmm. You don’t seem to be relaxing. Why is that?”

The amusement in his voice made her growl. “You know why.”

“Enlighten me.”

“B-because what you’re doing doesn’t relax me.”

“What does it do, Demi?” His voice dropped an octave. Chill bumps rose on her skin.

“It makes me wet.”

He took a ragged breath. “Are you going to show me how wet? I want to see that pussy I’ve been dreaming about for so long.”

His words went straight to her core. A flood of liquid pooled in her panties and ran down her upper thighs.

“What’s it going to be, Demi? Yes.” He trailed his hands down to caress the seams of her jeans. “Or no?”

She let her head fall back and peered up to take in the angles of his face. Despite his even tone, his Adam’s apple bobbed with his frequent swallows, and his jaw was granite.

“Yes.”

He growled. “I’m going to make it so good for you, D.” His fingers dipped below her shirt and caressed her ribs as he moved down to the top of her jeans. The pop of the snap seemed to echo in the room filled with shaky breathing. He caressed her beneath the band of her black boy shorts, and she held her breath, anxious to feel his thick fingers inside her. Nuzzling the crook of her neck, he delved inside the cotton, and the air rushed from her lungs. His teeth trailed up her neck, and his fingers parted her slick lips. “Soft, wet.” He pinched her swollen clit between his fingers, rolling it with just enough pressure to torture without bringing relief.

“Pierce.” She lifted her hips only to have him stop.

“Uh-uh, slow. I’ve waited too long for this to be a flash in a pan.” He bit down, hard. “I want to hear every sigh, whimper, scream.” His tongue soothed the sting, and his fingers continued to play. “You want to feel my fingers inside you, Demi?”

“Fuck, you know I do.” Every nerve ending in her body seemed hardwired to this man’s command. His silken tone devastated her like a bomb.

“Then tell me, sweetheart.”

“I need to feel those dexterous digits inside my pussy, Pierce.”

“Since you asked so nicely.” He bit her jaw and thrust home in one deft movement that rolled her eyes into the back of her head. Seated deep inside her, he remained still, massaging her lower belly with his large hand.

“You feel me?” He wiggled his finger, and she moaned.


Tags: Shyla Colt Romance