Page 76 of Ghosts of Halloween

“You won’t,” he says, dropping a kiss just to the side of my mouth, so close, yet not close enough. “Come on, princess. Live like there’s no tomorrow.”

He shoots me an amused look, and I huff, not quite a laugh, but close.

“That’s not funny,” I say, even though my lips arch into a small smile. “But fine. Okay. If you’re really sure.”

I hope he’ll say no, because who’d want that? There is nothing sexy about my stump. It’s ungainly, unsymmetrical, and just all wrong. The skin is soft but scarred and will be creased when I take the prosthetic off.

“I’m sure.”

Staring at him, I chew on the inside of my cheek, my anxiety flaring. Jack is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. His touch tonight gave me so much pleasure—all the sparks I’ve ever wanted. But will he still want to touch me when he sees me truly naked?

But then I breathe out, remembering our reality and future. We have mere hours left. With the end so close in sight, I can be brave.

I remove the prosthetic with practiced movements, sighing in relief when it slides off. It’s perfectly fitted for me, but wearing it for longer than a few hours makes me sore. Now, my skin can breathe, my muscles relaxing.

Bracing myself, I cautiously look up at Jack.

His eyes are heated, fixed on my stump, lust plain on his face. I hiccup out of shock, because it seems completely unreal someone could look atthatpart of me with such obvious desire.

“Put it away,” he says, and his voice is so much grittier, like his throat doesn’t work properly. “And come here.”

I lay the prosthetic on the floor by a wall and slowly straighten, catching my balance. It’s always tricky, the first few minutes after putting it on or taking it off. When I stand firmly, I turn and go to him, my heart hammering with excitement and dread.

Surely just one look at my stump will be enough. He’ll ask me to put the prosthetic back on, and I’ll be relieved. And maybe just a little bit disappointed.

Because no matter how much I worry about it, I still want to be seen as I am. With my scars proudly on display. I’ve never been this vulnerable with anyone before.

So when Jack reaches for me with hungry arms, pressing me close as he buries his face in my hair, I shiver with gratitude. He actually wants me. Even now that I’m truly naked.

“You have no idea how many times I jerked off to the fantasy of seeing you like this,” he says, his hot breath making goosebumps rise over my skin.

“You did?” I ask, my breath rushing out of me when Jack grips my nape and leans close, his brows pinched in a frown as he looks at my face. “Why?”

“Because nobody else got it from you. And I always knew I’d be the first,” he says, leaning in.

When he brushes his lips over mine, I open eagerly, the last of my trepidation leaving me in a rush. He really wants me. Just as I am. Too damaged, too weird, too fucked up for normal people.

But not for Jack.

The gentle kiss turns heated when he thrusts his tongue in my mouth with a soft groan. His hands roam my back until they settle on my shoulders, and as he kisses me deeply, moaning deep in his throat, his fingers slowly trail down and down, until he touches me where no one else did before him.

I moan and shake as he explores my stump with his fingers, still kissing me like he can’t stop. He maps out the shape of it, fingertips gently brushing my scars, sliding over my sensitive skin. I kiss him back desperately, trying to distract myself from how much he affects me. That simple touch, ghost-light and sweet, means so very much.

He pulls back, his lips hovering over mine as he caresses my stump, and I watch him desperately, trying to convey my emotions with my eyes alone, because my throat is so tight, I can’t speak.

“There you go, baby,” Jack murmurs, voice trembling slightly. He leans over me, head dropping low, and peppers kisses over my shoulder, all the way down to the point where my right arm ends.

“Oh!” I gasp as my knees buckle under me. The rush of sparks is so heady, I just fall loose and relaxed into Jack’s arms, my entire body expanding and growing hot as he holds me up, his lips touching me intimately.

Kissing places that haven’t been kissed before.

My body grows hotter and tingles all over, the tension inside me ratcheting with his every kiss until I rub my thighs together, the wetness between them plentiful and unmistakable.

“You want my cock, princess?” he asks in a low, guttural voice. Jack misses nothing, and even as he kisses my scars, he notices my every hitched breath, every flex of my hips.

“Yes,” I hiss out through clenched teeth, my pussy already throbbing wildly just from him kissing my skin. Somehow, I believe he managed to get me off with sparks alone. But I need more now. I want him inside me.

“Will you take my cock deep and say thank you, princess?” he asks with a mischievous smirk, looking up with his mouth still pressed to my stump. “Will you take every barbell like a good girl?”

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