Page 33 of Hot Ghoul Summer

Not that Toby would let that happen.

I DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED.

One minute, I was trying to smooth her hair and hum a lullaby to help relax the traumatized woman in my arms.

The next, I’m in my terrifying Reaper form with my tongue buried in her soaking peach of a pussy, and I’m using my bony jaw to grind on her swollen clit. Her pleasure is like a tonic for me, something warm, wet, and living.

I suddenly understand vampires a little better.

I want to drink her again and again.

My cock is as hard as a rock thinking about being inside of her one day; I’m so lost in hot, lurid fantasies about Molly riding my cock instead of my mouth that I barely register her muffled cries.

She’s collapsed face-first into the pillows. If the way her walls keep jumping around my tongue is any indicator, I’ve done my job. Two good climaxes ought to send her to sleep. With a longing last slurp, I let her rest, my body and face slowly shifting back into my human appearance.

“Wh... How? Oh, God.” Molly moves to her side, a hand on her belly. “I have actual muscle cramps.”

“Heating pad?” I ask, reaching for the bedside table again.

“I’ve never come that hard. Ever. I didn’t know you could. And you... wanted to do that?”

My eyes narrow. “Erm. Yes. Could you not tell?”

She shrugs, not meeting my eye. “A lot of guys don’t do that.”

“Oh. Well.” I rub the back of my neck, trying not to blush as I share my guilty secret. “I never did when I was alive. But I’ve learned a few things.”

Molly’s face falls, ever so slightly. “You’re a real undead Casanova, huh? Making the term lady killer do double duty?”

It’s my turn to groan and put a hand on my head, but I don’t have cramps. I have acute embarrassment. “No! I don’t... I have lots of ideas, very limited practical experience. Where I live, in Pine Ridge, there’s a book club. Sera started going last year, and each week she tells me if books are hot or not. So far, almost all of them have been hot, and then... I read them. It’s the only sex life I have, okay?”

“You read romances?”

“And other things!” I say defensively. “In my day, the hygienic aspects of sex, lack of running water, and all of that would make some sexual practices less—”

“Stop. I’m a nurse. Hygiene is my jam.” Molly’s face is relaxing again, and her smile reappears, small and sleepy. “You did that for me, though. Thank you.”

She doesn’t get it. I move to recline next to her on the bed and risk pulling her hand to my hardness before gently pushing it away. “I did that to give you pleasure without selfishly asking you to return it—but you can see how much I liked it. If you went on that date with me, and that date led to a million more dates...” I sigh and gaze at the ceiling, wondering if God is in the mood to grant my wishes. I haven’t mucked up much in the last half millennia, after all. “Well, I’d beg you to let me do that every night. Amongst other things, of course! I’m not interested in you purely for sexual reasons.” I stop talking and wish I had never started.

Molly’s slow, sleepy voice holds a curious note. “Interested in me? Like—for real? Like, not just because we’re in the middle of The Godfather Hits the Beach?”

“Yes. Because you’re strong and smart and funny, and you have a good heart. A heart and soul so brave and bold that God decided to make you the spitting image of another Molly with the same beautiful spirit.” I curl my arm under her head and stroke her hair. She seems to like that. “I know you’re not her. You’re just a reminder of all the wonderful things she was.” I’m not supposed to fall asleep, but when Molly wriggles into my arms and burrows into my chest, I can’t help the feeling of peace that settles over me. “I didn’t get to know her well. I hope I get the chance to know you.” How stupid does that sound, after I’ve been between her legs? “I mean, I hope we get to know one another better. Sounds as if I’m doing everything backward, I know, but—”

My voice stops, interrupted by a soft whuff of air, an exhausted almost-snore.

I curl myself around Molly and press a kiss on her forehead.

I’ll just sleep for a few minutes. I may never get this chance again, to fall asleep with Molly in my arms.

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