Page 36 of Ghosts of Halloween

“You’re mine,” he snarls, furious. “No more running.”

He pushes me forward until we enter the empty closet, and he slams my body against the wall. I gasp, and then Jack hikes my dress up and enters me hard.

It hurts, and I scream.

“God, you’re wet,” he says, panting. “All that running, huh?”

I shake my head, because I can’t speak. Suddenly, all of that fear, all that electric energy finds another channel, and I vibrate with it. Jack doesn’t move, and slowly, I accommodate to having him inside me.

Flesh and metal.

“All right there, princess?” he asks after a moment, voice hoarse.

A shaky breath rushes out of me, almost a laugh. This question is so ridiculous right now.

“No,” I tell him truthfully.

Jack leans his forehead against the back of my head with a low laugh.

“That’s too bad,” he says, dropping a kiss on my temple.

Spark.

“Why?”

“Because I’m not gonna stop,” he says in a low, tender voice, kissing me again. “I want you too much. But don’t worry, sweetheart. It will be quick.”

Sparks flood my system, and I shiver, pressing instinctively into him.

“But that’s just what’s wrong with me,” I say, my voice on the verge of breaking.

When Jack makes an inquiring noise, nuzzling against my hair, I explain, “Because I don’t want you to stop.”

“Oh, princess,” he says with amusement, dropping kisses over my head as he speaks. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re perfect. Every part of you. All of you. Is perfect.”

Then he pulls out and turns me around so fast, the back of my head hits the wall. As I blink away the pain, I frown. Jack’s hands are still on me, his hot breath fanning my face, but I can’t see him. There’s nothing in front of me.

While I’m still trying to puzzle out what’s happening, invisible lips crash into mine.

20

Jack

Her terrified moan is everything, and I devour it with relish as her body shakes under my hands. My princess is in a primal place right now, terror and desire mixing into one, and I’ll be happy to give her a release.

“We’ll take it off,” I say, reaching behind her back for the zipper. “Caden wants to watch. We’ll give him a good show.”

He already lit the candles in here to see, and I couldn’t appreciate him more. I want to see my princess as I fuck her. Every fucking inch of her beautiful body.

She moans, and I push the dress down her shoulders and hips until she stands against me in just a bra. I grip my T-shirt with one hand and quickly pull it off to feel her soft skin against my body. I hate that one moment when my hands are off her, because she might still run, but Harlow stays put, not even twitching. She wants this, too.

I’m not a romantic, butfuck. Right now, I’d love to have her all to myself in a big bed so I could make proper love to her.

But a man’s gotta work with the cards he’s dealt.

She raises her hands hesitantly, her pulse jumping in her throat, and presses them to my chest. And maybe I’m mad, but at this moment, I think it was worth dying for this.

Her fingers explore me, her prosthetic cold on my skin, her real hand fluttering over my invisible pecs and down to my stomach, easy in my sweat.Just tonight, I get to have a real body, and it’s so thrilling to have her touch me.

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