Page 89 of The Ghost and the Graveyard (Knight Games 1)
"I'm not doing much sleeping. But it helps to know you're here."
"I'm here, Grateful."
"Will you stay with me?"
He was suddenly standing next to the bed. "Yes."
"All night?" I asked.
"All night," he answered.
I scooted to one side of the bed. As he slid in next to me, I knew he didn't need to lie down but was doing it for my sake. I tried to close my eyes again, restless. Logan touched my face. Whatever he was made of brushed over me, an electrically charged feather, somewhere between a tickle and a purr. I reached for his hand. The density changed as my fingers passed through him, like plunging my hand into warm water.
Before Logan, I would have assumed a ghost would feel cold, and his kiss had. But on the inside, it was different. My hand slid through his, and he moved inside my skin, like warm fur caressing toward my shoulder.
"Mmm," I said, closing my eyes. Amazing.
He pressed closer, sinking his other hand into my side. Something low inside my body tightened. I arched into his hand and closed my eyes.
"This is... I've never done this before. Am I hurting you?" Logan asked.
"No. It feels good. Warm and tingly."
"Do you want me to keep going? I'm not sure what'll happen, but I like it. It feels right."
Several things went through my mind at that moment. I told myself that having Logan inside of me was not "sex"-he didn't have a body. And I needed comfort. I was a raw nerve, a frayed rope. Twelve hours ago I'd thought Rick might be "the one." Now, he was a monster. My whole world had gone topsy-turvy, and I was holding onto a ghost as if he were the most solid object in my universe.
"Don't stop, Logan," I said.
He leaned into me, quite literally. His entire form slid into my body. The plush electric buzz ran just under my skin from my scalp to my toes. For a second, the pleasure was so intense that I couldn't breathe. Inevitably, my body responded by growing wet, my nipples stretching my silk camisole.
I took a long, deep breath. I had to get naked, to see if I could touch the purr that ran right under my skin. Lifting the camisole over my head, I writhed against the mattress and Logan rolled in response. Just pulling my silk shorts down sent a warm rush through me.
I ran my hands over my breasts, tugging gently on my nipples, but the sensation happened from the inside out. Caressing lower, over my stomach, his hands followed mine on the other side of my skin. My fingers found the space between my legs, and so did Logan. He filled me with his power. I guessed he could be any shape or size he wanted to be, and right now he was exactly the right size to make every cell in my body call out for more.
Allowing my knees to drift apart, I rubbed myself faster as the power surged in and out of me. A thousand fingers massaged up my back. His power explored my mouth and reached places I'd never found erotic before, the arches of my feet, the back of my knees, my inner arms. I arched my back, throwing my head into the pillow.
"More. Please. Don't stop," I cried. I spread my arms wide on the mattress and let his power drive into me. Hot thrusts pounded, throbbing, stroking in just the right places. I neared the great shimmering cliff. He coaxed me over the edge, and I came apart. The power of it pushed Logan out of my body. I writhed on the bed and watched him flicker next to me, pure wonder in his eyes.
"I wasn't expecting that," I breathed.
"I wasn't either." His voice sounded weak, distant.
"Are you all right?"
"I think being inside of you has drained my energy. I'm sorry, I can't stay. I need to rest."
And with that, he broke apart in a flash of light. The mist he was made of soaked into the ceiling, probably returning to the attic. I rolled onto my side feeling sated, but wracked with guilt. I hadn't meant for that to happen. On top of everything else, I now had the added complexity of having led my ghost on. My gut told me what happened meant more to Logan than it did to me.
And despite what I'd just done, my last thoughts before falling asleep were of Rick. Rick the monster. Rick, who'd used our connection to take advantage of me. Rick, who I wanted even now.
Rick, who in a past life I was married to.
* * * * *
There's something addictive about having a cup of coffee and a hot breakfast prepared for you each morning. As I savored the berry crepes Logan left for me, I was racked with guilt. I couldn't objectively make the decision to become or not become the witch on my own. After the orgasm he'd given me the night before, and the perfect cup of coffee he'd made, I could almost forget it was his eternal soul I was dealing with. Not to mention his feelings.
I didn't want to be the witch, and frankly I could get used to having Logan around forever. He'd never leave me. I could fall into a relationship with Logan so easily. It would be as simple as doing nothing. But easy and right were two different things. As hurt as I'd been over the last several years, and as much as I needed control to feel safe, I still had a conscience.
