Page 13 of Ghosts of Halloween

Her body presses to me, so soft and inviting, and her sweet moans warm my cock until it throbs, hurting in my now too-tight jeans.

I want to slap her to make her stop this shit.

But I need to follow the plan. I need to play the gentle lover who will give our princess exactly what she needs. Tender, platonic touch. Because we know this is what gets her off. This is what she needs to get in the mood.

And after we have used her to get everything we lost because of her… After she falls, pliant, relaxed, and glowing…

Crack.

We’ll shatter her like a doll.

I swallow, my throat too tight, my chest bursting with the visceral revulsion I feel at the thought. I already know I won’t do it. Let Silas handle that last part. I won’t even watch.

The thick, awful feeling in my throat shifts, and I get my breathing under control.Don’t think ahead. Only now matters.

My cock throbs. I feel tight and uncomfortable, my skin burning all over.Focus.She’s very much alive and shivering against me. She’s here, I’m here, and nothing else matters.

Focus on the present. Only now matters.

“So you like it when I touch you here, hm?” I ask, running my fingers down her right arm again.

She shakes her head, making me smile. So she fights, after all. Like a helpless kitten.

“You’re not fooling me, princess,” I say quietly, stroking the skin of her stump just above where the prosthetic starts.

She whimpers, and my cock twitches. Fuck, she can lie all she wants, but I see how much she likes my touch. And the best thing? I fucking love it, too.

Even now, I have to resist the urge to try to push my fingers underneath. It’s a tight fit, made custom for her, and I know a part of the prosthetic arm overlaps her stump. I wish I could see it naked again, and I will. But not yet.

I run my fingers down her arm, letting them ghost over the soft satin of her skin and the carbon fiber of her artificial limb. I press lightly, denting her flesh, and push my pinky underneath. Just a little.

She gasps and bucks against me, shaking her head so hard, her hair whips against my face, and I laugh, loving how she can’t resist enjoying herself.

All those losers who knew what she needed and were too lazy to give it to her? They missed out. So fucking much.

“Let me tell you what happens now,” I say, as caught up in the moment as she is.

She whimpers and thrashes against me as I caress her arm, sliding just the tip of my finger underneath and removing it. It’s a bit like fucking, deeply erotic, and I would even moan myself if we were alone.

And it’s not about the stump. It’s not about her disability, but about knowing what moves her most.

This is where she’s the most vulnerable. The most insecure. It’s the part of her no one else dared to touch. No matter how many men have fucked her, I am the first to do this to her. I am her first where it matters the most, and it’s fucking exhilarating.

And because of how special this is, she is helpless to refuse. She might try, but she doesn’t know the words. She’s never had to fend off anyone who touched her here, because nobody dared.

She is so starved for this, she doesn’t even want me to stop. I have her in the palm of my hand, and it’s like a drug. That level of control. The effect I have on her.

It’s sick, it’s thrilling, it’s fucking erotic. My little princess, completely mine for the moment.

“Please,” she gasps out, her hips moving instinctively. “This isn’t… You’re not supposed to… Oh!”

“Not supposed to what, princess?” I ask, my voice gritty, emotion showing through. “Make you feel good? Touch this part of you? Give you what you need?”

She shakes her head and I trail my other hand down her left arm, from her shoulder to her elbow, wishing I could untie her to have better access. I will, but later.

Once the real fun starts.

“You shouldn’t,” she confirms, tears in her voice. “Please, whoever you are…”

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